let the river run dry; mary

[kildare]

She casts an inquisitive gaze at him and he thinks he sees laughter dancing there, inviting him in. Close but not close enough for the impatient young stallion. She practically purrs in his ear that yes, she does have all the fun and a knowing smirk crosses his dark muzzle. She is so close, so tantalizingly close and then she pulls away again to stand in front of him. (How was that any better?) She tugs on his forelock in a way that reminds him of his granddam and his features cloud over, stormy on an otherwise bright day. 

He doesn't misinterpret what this is. 

Kildare enjoys her company and he assumes that Loess has a quota to meet, a certain amount of young horses to fill its ranks to keep its place of power. He doesn't mind that. He has to settle down eventually and why not Loess? There is nothing here to make him adverse to the decision, if anything it is the opposite. With Mary standing so beguilingly before him, he can think of many reasons to stay.

She tilts her head up at him and she teases him again. "What is a stallion besides his word?" His words are a dark rumble between them. It was a lesson, a moral he had heard often enough as a young colt and beyond. Something his father had said over and over and over again. And here it is, ingrained enough in him that it has resulted in his presence in Loess because he had told Mary he would come. 

Even if she doesn't come to learn much about him, he hopes that she understands that he does mean what he says. That if there were to come a time that she should need anything, he would come. And it draws along the nagging question about his other promises - things he does intend to keep - but they seem far more complicated than whatever exists between himself and Mary now.

She looks around before returning to him. His green eyes meet hers and the stallion summons a confident smile as he dips his Spanish head with a promise in his rolling in his voice, "Lead the way, milady."

@[Mary]