05-17-2018, 01:41 PM
Through the cloud that my breath leaves in the air, I see the Kwartz offers a remarkably polite greeting, something that I’d long ago abandoned expecting of any resident of these autumnal woods. Most of them seem content to cackle and dart off in the shadows, a habit that I assume they must feel is intimidating. In truth, it has left me with the opinion that I share this kingdom with a crowd of anti-social shadows and feelings of rather intense loneliness.
Loess had been a quiet kingdom during my childhood, but there had always been someone to talk to. Mother and Uncle Castile, and then for those few happy weeks - Arthas.
The thought of him stirs something sour in my belly, though I am also reminded of how concerned he had been that I ‘fulfill my duties’. I’ve not done so; Modicum Mortem seems far too wrapped up in his other women much the way that I assume Arthas has been.
The path of my life has been set already, but as I eye the handsome tobiano in front of me, it occurs to me that perhaps I might exercise my freedom in other ways. Surely sex must be entertaining; why would it happen otherwise? Why not pass my time in Sylva in ways that I choose, rather than those were chosen for me?
I summon the same sensation I had used to make the red-nosed king more agreeable to my plans, though this time I am far more liberal in the dosage. Lust is suddenly thick in the air, the abruptness sending a shiver down my navy spine.
”Oh, I was just bored,” I lie, taking a step forward. Manufactured, the emotion feels no different than when it naturally occurs, and I find myself tracing the smooth slope of Kwartz’s pied neck and the thick plumage of his multi-colored neck with open admiration. He is as handsome as Arthas, and there is the satisfactory bonus that were Kwartz to find others ”note worthy” it would not burn me in the same way.
”Have you lived here long?” I ask as I meet his proffered muzzle with my own, using the opportunity to summon another wave of lust. It does not occur to me that he might not want this, because what stallion does not? I have looked at my reflection often enough to know that I am more than averagely pretty. I take another step forward to pluck a loose lavender feather from his wing, glancing over my shoulder to meet his gaze again when I ask: ”What is there to do for fun around here?”
Loess had been a quiet kingdom during my childhood, but there had always been someone to talk to. Mother and Uncle Castile, and then for those few happy weeks - Arthas.
The thought of him stirs something sour in my belly, though I am also reminded of how concerned he had been that I ‘fulfill my duties’. I’ve not done so; Modicum Mortem seems far too wrapped up in his other women much the way that I assume Arthas has been.
The path of my life has been set already, but as I eye the handsome tobiano in front of me, it occurs to me that perhaps I might exercise my freedom in other ways. Surely sex must be entertaining; why would it happen otherwise? Why not pass my time in Sylva in ways that I choose, rather than those were chosen for me?
I summon the same sensation I had used to make the red-nosed king more agreeable to my plans, though this time I am far more liberal in the dosage. Lust is suddenly thick in the air, the abruptness sending a shiver down my navy spine.
”Oh, I was just bored,” I lie, taking a step forward. Manufactured, the emotion feels no different than when it naturally occurs, and I find myself tracing the smooth slope of Kwartz’s pied neck and the thick plumage of his multi-colored neck with open admiration. He is as handsome as Arthas, and there is the satisfactory bonus that were Kwartz to find others ”note worthy” it would not burn me in the same way.
”Have you lived here long?” I ask as I meet his proffered muzzle with my own, using the opportunity to summon another wave of lust. It does not occur to me that he might not want this, because what stallion does not? I have looked at my reflection often enough to know that I am more than averagely pretty. I take another step forward to pluck a loose lavender feather from his wing, glancing over my shoulder to meet his gaze again when I ask: ”What is there to do for fun around here?”
