The glowing red of Vadar’s gaze passes over Jude and onto the riverbank, begging the question: do hers follow? The purple in her eyes melts to a kind of sly warmth, where there was once coy sparkling there is now swirling pleasure. Up until this moment this had all been the pegasus’ typical languid game, a cast and reel - testing the bites as they come. To her core, though, Jude is a genuine woman. When she finds her comfort she sits in it, this particular comfort being the lazy back and forth the pair so quickly possessed.
The agile muscles beneath her silky pink fur roll like water as she shifts to one side, settling into a relaxed lean and sighing contentedly.
Vadar continues to speak - Jude hanging onto every word with a saccharine smile (that seeming to be her face their whole encounter). The ground squishes beneath her hooves when she shuffles about, lips closing together in delight: he would like to be friends. The pink mare laughs, a full bell-like ringing. Just friends? The idea of a friend that she has not found in Tephra is so foreign to her, not from a place of contempt or conceit, but from excitement that someone takes interest in something other than her pretty face. Most ventures out end with her boredom or the final and painful roll of her eyes when someone advances, but ventures out are so few and far between.
It is quite funny, the simple things she loves that she denied of herself (and perhaps others have denied her, as well).
The hot breathe and soft touch of Vadar’s muzzle draws her out of her delighted reverie. If Jude could purr, she absolutely would (and even still she has to resist the urge to curve her head around his). Too quick he draws back, the pegasus’ only response a heavy droop of her eyelids and a drunken grin.
“No, not a nomad . . .” she pauses, fluttering her lashes in faux distres, “I’m afraid I don’t have the steel it takes to travel alone.” The smirk on her mouth is biting, suggesting that she does in fact have what it takes - she just does not want to. “I live in Tephra, with my two daughters and their father. Sometimes it gets a little too . . . hot under that volcano.” She might be hinting at the suffocation she feels whenever her daughters scream too much, or she might be telling the truth . . . The interpretation is left wide open.
“Are you a nomad? Regardless, you should come visit. I can give quite the in depth tour.” The glint in her eye returns, followed by a slow swish of her long tail. Perhaps she is actually flirting back.
@[Vadar] I DIDNT REALIZE IT HAD BEEN SO LONG i still love him