She see's him and his crimson eyes surveying the open fields of jade. His gaze stops and pins onto her and in reaction her posture tightens and her head perks up, ears pricking to indulge any sounds he may give out. He advances with little hesitation, it looks like and such a confident stride attracts her interested focus. At least for now, any way. With him comes a sharp familiar smell...the pines of the Chamber. Heat flashes over her her skin and cold goosebumps spread under her milky fur. The scents are mixed with the smell of stone and mountain mist, more so than the Chamber's perfume. Her steely gray nostrils flutter while her olfactory tries sorting through the smells – the most robust among them being the musk of his stallionness. She watches him carefully as he eases closer, her ears flicking back once or twice but otherwise she shows little sign of rejecting his approach.
His voice is as prickly as he appears. She doesn't deny to herself that she prefers a cold hearted man to a warm hearted one – if they're heart has to be beating at all, that is. She lets his question stand alone on the slow winds and his name too. She keeps her lips clenched and her eyes bore into his own.
“A home.” She snorts and draws her head back to examine him properly. She squints and thrashes her tail across those freckled hips. “Can you take me to one?” She asks as if she knows the answer, and she does. Anyone who knows where they are knows why the wolves come around to play. They want to take you home and feed you to the rest...and she's more than happy to just go right now.
I hate this fucking field. She concludes this while raking her eyes over each part of his body reachable by a semi-polite gaze. She almost looks like she's about to devour him, but there's no denying that she isn't the one with the most hunger in her eyes here.
She smells mares, foals and the Chamber.
She's beginning to believe the Gods are just having fun with her at this point.
city
in the bleak midwinter
