08-17-2017, 10:51 AM
Don't be afraid when the night wolves cry,
feast on their bones, suck the marrow dry.
feast on their bones, suck the marrow dry.
A quick, unassuming smile is reward enough for his composure and he would’ve been happy with that, certainly, had it been all she offered. Any reaction is reason to continue, though he warrants a positive reaction is more appealing than the negative. She does, for all appearances sake, seem positive; Longclaw can clearly appreciate the subtle curve of her jaw, the tender lines of her face where innocence still lights eyes and mouth alike. If he only knew what dwelt beneath…
But he doesn’t, just as she’s unaware of the fire thrumming through his veins at this very moment. There’s destruction veiled by flesh and bone, smoothed out by light banter and quick, easy smiles. Kindred spirits, it would seem. “Don’t trouble yourself, Ajatar.” Longclaw chuckles, the persuasion in his tone meant to set her problematic mind at ease. His voice holds an unusual air of authority for one so young and unproven; it’s his vice, perhaps: complacency in all manner of situations. But even this cannot snuff the coiling excitement in his belly as he sweeps his splendid head down, teeth gripping and then shearing the earth of her fine, green dress.
He is a manipulator, after all. This authoritative edge to his mannerisms can be shaped to his advantage and he does that now, quickly, while his head rises deftly once more. “This grass belongs to everyone, but your company belongs to you alone and I’d like, very much, to hoard it for a bit.” The stallion relates, gaze brimming with expectancy of her approval. His teeth set against each other suddenly, the urgency within him peaking, but -Easy now, calm yourself- it was a game designed in her favor and out here, in the open, he won’t be so crude.
He might be an animal, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t in control.
“I’d like to know where you’re from, what you’re doing here?” He presses again, easing into the heart of the matter between them. “I’m very curious about you, you know.”
But he doesn’t, just as she’s unaware of the fire thrumming through his veins at this very moment. There’s destruction veiled by flesh and bone, smoothed out by light banter and quick, easy smiles. Kindred spirits, it would seem. “Don’t trouble yourself, Ajatar.” Longclaw chuckles, the persuasion in his tone meant to set her problematic mind at ease. His voice holds an unusual air of authority for one so young and unproven; it’s his vice, perhaps: complacency in all manner of situations. But even this cannot snuff the coiling excitement in his belly as he sweeps his splendid head down, teeth gripping and then shearing the earth of her fine, green dress.
He is a manipulator, after all. This authoritative edge to his mannerisms can be shaped to his advantage and he does that now, quickly, while his head rises deftly once more. “This grass belongs to everyone, but your company belongs to you alone and I’d like, very much, to hoard it for a bit.” The stallion relates, gaze brimming with expectancy of her approval. His teeth set against each other suddenly, the urgency within him peaking, but -Easy now, calm yourself- it was a game designed in her favor and out here, in the open, he won’t be so crude.
He might be an animal, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t in control.
“I’d like to know where you’re from, what you’re doing here?” He presses again, easing into the heart of the matter between them. “I’m very curious about you, you know.”
Longclaw
![[Image: sScEgld.png]](http://i.imgur.com/sScEgld.png)