/.\ Dare to Catch a Falling Star? /.\

[Phantom Mists]

Whipcord thrashes, as ivory femora prods through the mystifying exam of land. Her ebon globes survey the terra, stagless. A darkening smirk slithered atop her jowels, dare not a brujo come to claim her, as death would be ever so close to his brute ensemble, as the fire in her eyes flickered, how she wanted to see two czar battle over her physique, only, unluckily for the victor, that she will nevermore produce a single whelp, of any's origin, only to hear the sickening slip of a whimpering sapling slide from her silk bodice, not a chance.

She turns her dream box, prodding her daggers toward the entrance of the lands, making sure a stag would enter her sight soon enough, then, she could test his skills, and how much he could take before breaking down, and sobbing, as none have been able to before, were there tainted ones here, strong enough, and smart enough to even approach her? Probably not..

[Rage~+~Aros]

Some mares were tough, it was true. Aros knew this as well as he knew the top of his hoof. They liked to think themselves difficult, untamable, wild at heart. Aros knew this too. But, whether they knew it or not, every mare had a button. A secret way that, once found, would render them utterly devoted to you. The fun was in finding it. It was with these thoughts streaming through his conciousness that Aros spotted the mare. Another white one, 'eh? So many colors like himself and her roamed these lands. Oh well, he wasn't complaining. She was a looker, but Aros hid his attraction. Instead, he slowed from his travelling speed to a steady lope, diverting from his usual dirrection to cast a wide circle around the fea. His eyes scanned effortlessly across her body, 'checking her out' to use modern terms. He kept moving however, never drawing close. She would see him, she would know why he was there, and he couldn't have cared less if she didn't wish him to do as he was. She had come out here, to this field of claimences, so she would have to suffer her own consequences.

Greetings, angel. What brings you out here on this glorious day?

He laughed to himself as he moved. He didn't give a squirrel's tail why she was out there, nor did he really care if the day was wonderful for her or terrible. The playboy slowed further, to a steady extented trot, slowly closing in his revolutions. Still, never coming near enough to be touched. Suddenly, and quite without warning, he skidded to a halt before her, still a good twenty feet away. His mane kept going, blowing messily across his muscular neck. He chuckled to himself and shook, tossing it back into place, and his dark eyes aimed to meet hers, to gauge her reaction.

[Phantom Mists]

/.\ Angel? What sick joke do you take me for, bastard? /.\

The demoness hissed, tossing her dial, and backing a few steps, away from the continuing playboy. Watch your step, czar, you'll regret it.. With every beat from his daggers that glistened in her lobes, she threw her dream box, taking a step back every so often. Backward motion continued to prod on, as her cord flipped nastily, as did her oxynators. No czar was going to recieve her that quick, no matter what he did, she wouldn't be stopped. The fire that kissed her heart could never be doused by something such as he, and no one would tell her otherwise..

Ebon globes watched the muscular physique continue to uncoil and retract with every sickening crack his diamonds groped, his same ebon orbs, did he think that'd seduse her? Bah, she'd seen better.

[Rage~+~Aros]

Aros's ears caught her words, and a pleased expression formed across his dark features. He flipped his skull toward the fea, but his body stayed still. Another bratty one, apparently. He chuckled to himself, for now the fun began. He took a few slight steps toward her, not to cover much distance, but simply to show that he could. Combined with her backward motion, this led to a similar distance as he had been maintaining throughout his entire exposee(needs accent over the last "e" lol).

Ouch. What would you rather be thought of as, then?

He shifted his weight lazily, propping one hindleg pointedly, a silent assurance that he wouldn't come any nearer.. at least for now. Was he sorry? Heck no. One day she'd realize he rarely meant anything he said, but for now.. it was nice enough to seem at least slightly sincere. His ebony tail drifted in the stray breezes, mirroring the forelock that blew across one of his dark eyes, obscurring his view of her. His raven-soaked form was more or less bored in appearence, a sharp contrast to the state of his mind.

[Promise Broken]

Soleil's form could be barely seen upon the distance of the reign. Did not trouble him in the least to find as he traversed closer to a pair of equines he later resolved as Aros and an unknown. How lovely? Yet again, here was Soleil upon the verge of a white mare, and yet again, Aros was playing his card. an amusing repeat of the previous morn, was it not? He smiled to himself, dare he say it pleased him to know that he was yet again within the presence of Aros and his attempts. Yet this mare did not seem so vulnerable as teh other, and Soleil was drawn closer in interest. Yet he remained at a watchful distance. He gave respect for life, not specific souls. Why give someone something by default when they have yet to earn it. Soleil gave respect where respect was due. He demanded it as well. He was a different kind than many. His generosity was high and abound, yet his fervent nature was somewhat masked and hidden until needed for reference. Why blame him...? Soleil had grown not with a herd to learn a herd's behavior. With a kingly blood within his veins he had no heart to lower himself to the squabble of another, thus he could join no heard in his early youth, too great had been his pompus pride. But now was different. He'd gathered to many 'hurts' to refuse to learn a new way and thus it carried him this far. This far he'd travelled upon learn techniques not of his bethren but of his enemies. The cunning of the wolf, and the prowess of the coyote. He had the silence of the night and thusly his bay coat showed it. The deep dark tones disguised him as black within the dark, yet the daylight brought upon teh world the lighter tones that defined him as bay. The dark brown mingling with the black to form the ebon bay he was as of now. His shoulders were lined with thick roping sinew and his long elegant neck was patched with knots of flesh and muscle. Overall, he was a magnificant picture, but he himself was not perfect. Long hard years of wandering alone within the abyss fo the wilderness kept his instincts tuned and his alertness to a hightened pitch. Soleil missed little when it came to the life he breathed. He knew the sound of each of his mare by heart and the beat of each horse within his herd was permenantly etched into his mind. Should anything in his situation change he would be ready for it. For he had trained himself to speak through the body. He could read anything fromt he reaction of the body to the life that was thrown at it. He was a stallion of little words, and gave respect when respect was due.

Though interested int eh firery soul he saw below, he would do nothing as of now, but instead see how his adversary faired to deal with her. Soleil was not interested in starting a battle over a mare that was not worth fighting for. But it would all be determined with time. He knew the mare not, knew the stallion only a little. The moment was too early to determine anything of value, thus Soleil picked a point of interest and stayed fair out of harms way. HIs eyes pinpointed to the spot where white mare met ebon black. The collision of the two of great interest to the dark bay. However his ears played behind him in interest to other things; the wind, the roar of the gusts high above. The sway fo the grass and the song of the wind through the trees. Such a melodic harmony this world was. Life was but a qreat quilt built out of the fabrics of being. Everything was a motionless stand still in essence, but life itself never stood for no one. It smote and died, yet elsewhere it festered and grew. There was good and evil in the world - but who was to say Soleil be good or bad? He merely was... he was his own.