The Incomperable Socialite

[Gracieux]

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[/right]début!

She was elegant, it was true. Legs that went for miles and a head refined down to the most feminine of features. The sky blue pelt that covered her body was delicately flecked with roaning, ending in points of severe, obsidian black. Her gait carried her through the crystalline swamp swiftly, water splashing about her with each hoof fall. The banners upon her, mane and tail, stretched back in ribbons like silk. Head was always held high.

Finding herself alone was a difficult thing. Never before had she found herself with no companions and no source of protection. Whether under her father’s rule, or that of another, Gracieux had never been herdless. It was a horrific prospect to her. What if she were to starve? She was no longer anyone’s “love” or “pet.” She was just a nobody. Hooves slowing to a stop, fetlock deep in water, she scoffed at the idea. How ridiculous! No one in their right mind would pass up the chance at such a beauty! Grace ignored the realization that, besides being a beauty, she could also be wicked and controlling. Who cared what you acted like when you were beautiful?

Her head lowered, lips grazing the top of the water at her feet, taking in a swallow or two before walking a few steps forward into shallower water. Again, the head raised, a few pearls of water dripping back, creating concentric circles that grew until they enveloped her forelegs, fading slowly, reaching her hind legs. The wet, dripping mass that was the end of her tail annoyed her as it stuck grossly to her legs. She did not want to stay here.

Legs came into their own, finding motion and pulling her to the nearest patch of exposed land. The earth was soggy and waterlogged. It seeped from beneath her hooves, the pressure of her weight causing unappealing, squishy sounds to occur. A snort. She shook her forelock from her vision. Where would she go? There was no one to guide her.

fin!

[psylentia]

The beast’s pelt was midnight black. His mane and tail a strikingly white. A contrast to his looks. His horns stood out proud and dangerous. Double horns wrapped around each side of his head like a ram’s, one horn in the center of his chest and one on his forehead. Then there were five trailing down the centerline of his neck. His white mane sliding down between them. His mane was straight as a board, but soft and thin. Shiny. His tail was long and white. Also straight as a board but thicker than his mane.

Many feared him but he was a gentle giant standing at 18 hands and with shire breeding he was a massive beast. Muscular sides and legs. Large rump. And because of his looks he often was by himself. Sometimes he would roam with the bachelor stallions but he wished for a fae’s company. But he could never get a mare to see beyond his looks.

Suddenly he heard hooves. He perked up as he smelled the scent of a fae. He’d been scraping his horns on a tree but stopped. Vassago turned in the direction of the sounds and walked a few ways for he couldn’t stop to see who it might be. That’s when he saw her. He felt his body come alive as he took her in. He drew her scent in again and observed her. He knew she could see him from this distance. But he knew that if she saw him she’d run the other way. Unless she had backbone. That he would be impressed about. He’d not met any of that in ages. Not since Marina. However he didn’t leave where he was. He wanted her to see him.

He couldn’t help it, he had to speak to her. Closing the distance, he approached her slowly as not to frighten her. “Are you lost?” He asked her. “I am Vassago and would be honored to help you find your way.” His eyes never left her. Taking her all in. She was even more appealing up close. And he didn’t hide the interest in his eyes. He wanted her to know that he was attracted to her.

[Gracieux]

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[/right]début!

The girl's obsidian-tipped ears flickered back, forward, back again, atop her chiseled skull. She heard the noises created of the unknown beast, the sloshing and the thuds, the whisper it created when a being simply moved through empty space. She did not turn to look, only lowered her head to a few strands of water-logged grass at her feet, not currently feeling compelled to be childishly overwhelmed with curiosity. Perhaps, though, it would have been wise of her to feel such things, if only for her own protection. As of yet, she did not know whether it would be to her advantage to feel fear of the unknown creature in her midst. Her lofty little head was too overwhelmed with self-praising thoughts and complaints about her current situation to provide lodging for much else.

The black strands of her tail swished lightly at an offensive pest, the tresses of it slowly drip drying so as to return to their formally well-groomed, immaculate state. Still, she heard him continue his advance. A dainty, almost metallic black hoof lifted to turn her blue silken body as the first words left him, head slowly raising up. Lost? She would have liked to have thought not. It was not so much a physical lost as it was a psychological one. Grace did not know what to do with herself anymore. She felt rather useless. But still pretty. Always pretty. That knowledge was the only thing that kept her sane.

An amused, almost flirty snort left her in response to his words and stares, dark eyes purposely meeting his. His actions appealed to her vanity, fed her desire for praise, affection, love. She was too caught up in it all to care what his true intentions were. She would be elated simply for the companion of someone who had fallen smitten with her. That was all she cared about: someone to belong to, someone who would not be interested in looking past her superficial qualities or care about her rather blatant flaws of morality.

“Mmm…” she chuckled slightly, moving forward a step or two in his direction. Her body moved light as air, creating nary a sound. She paid no attention to his looks, except those that would benefit her. The size of him was impressive, and she thought to herself that it would be a useful attribute. There was no denying the strength of him. “Gracieux.” She introduced herself, the word dripped, honey-sweet. Her motions were forward, coming closer to him than what may have been comfortable, a sure sign of how desperate she was to be taken in. Warm breath left her nostrils, close enough to be felt on his neck. “That… would be wonderful.”

There was no way around it, Grace was an actress of sorts. She had been spoiled her entire life and had learned how best to work those around her… her plans rarely backfired, and she felt quite confident about these interactions.

fin!

[psylentia]

Her obvious lack of interest in him angered him. He felt his temper rising and he tampered it down. He would like to do nothing more than to order her to look at him. But instead, he just simply continued to approach her. When he got close he knew she would have to talk to him or else be rude. He had a feeling she was not rude. He seemed to be distracted by her tail for a moment, the tresses slapping against her buttocks. He wouldn’t mind nipping her there. But once again he focused his eyes on her. Her coloring was very unique. And very striking indeed. He found he could look at her for hours and still be amazed at her beauty. She should be illegal to look so good.

Once he got her attention, he knew that she wasn’t in the least afraid of him. And that made him bold. He watched her move gracefully around him. He felt her examining him and smiled. She wasn’t immune to him either it seemed. “Like what you see, love? I definitely do.” He gave her a seductive smile. “Pleasure, Gracieux,” her voice music to his ears. He loved the sound of her voice. He wouldn’t get tired of hearing her talk. And that was rare for him. He usually didn’t like a mare that was too talkative.

When she got closer than was proper, he smiled wickedly. “Becareful, my lady, don’t tempt the beast. Else you will be punished.” He pretended to nip at her shoulder. “Let’s take a walk around this part of the land. I’d like your company if you don’t mind.” He had a feeling that she wasn’t put off by his looks. By his horns. And he was enjoying that.

He walked with her, He wanted to hear her beautiful voice again. “Where is your home?” He asked. “I’d like to keep you for my own, but if you need to be returned to your stallion then I will help you find your way.” There was sadness in his voice at having to let her go. He’d yet to know her, but he had a feeling she was good and kind.

[Gracieux]

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[/right]début!

His words amused her greatly. Did she like what she saw? Well, he was male. And he was obviously interested... with those elements combined, she would have been stupid to turn him down. She needed a home, no matter if this beast had been homely or gorgeous, so he would have to do. True, though, he was not displeasing to her. Considering her other options on a physical level, this Vassago could be a catch. At least she had not been confronted with something scrawny or sickly. She may have had to turn that down. There was no point in running off with some silly colt whose attitude was bigger than his muscles, only to be lost to some opposing stallion that she could have been with from the beginning.

"Hmm..." she chuckled, the sound coming slowly up, eyes catching his before falling away once more. For once in her life she could find no words in biting yet playful retaliation. It seemed this time spent alone had allowed her so-called skills to fall dull. Lips parted slightly as if to speak, but no words left them.

He spoke again, moved to nip at her. Gracieux tossed her head lightly, dispersing the long, ebon strands of forelock from her eyes, hooves carefully pulling her a step or two forward until their shoulders were adjacent. Her head turned so dark eyes could peer back at him, toying. “If you insist…” The words were thickly laced with an act of something that could have fallen halfway between innocence and cruelty. She was curious as to how brave he really would be. Grace was not interested in a stallion who was nothing more than a sham.

Then came an offer of company, a walk. A soft breath left her, picking her dainty, blackened feet up once more to move in a semicircle behind him and then to his side. “Let’s.” She agreed, nudging his shoulder with her muzzle as she pulled into her chosen place at his side.

They walked, she took her steps with the utmost care as she always had, picking through the watery muck beneath them. “I have no home,” she admitted, trying to sound at least somewhat confident in herself, even though she was shaken by the fact. “I… haven’t in a long time, actually. My herd became disbanded.” It was true, she was essentially a widow. Grace had made the mistake of running off with an inadequate stallion before, and he had eventually lost a fight beyond anyone’s repair. The whole ordeal had left her with nothing, lest the fear of reoccurrence.

fin!

[psylentia]

“Ah you like that don’t you.” He sounded pleased. “I am sure you will like other punishments that I find entertaining.” He smiled at her then went in the direction of where she wanted to walk. “I just claimed some land in the mountains.” He told her. “I’m sorry that your herd dispersed. It sounds like you cared for them very much.” He said as he walked. He found he couldn’t stop watching her move or loved listening to her talk. She was ravishing beyond words. He wanted her and would do anything to keep her. His possessive streak was coming out in him.

He wondered why she wanted something to do with him. Was he just someone that came along at the right time or did she really find him interesting? It really didn’t matter. He was pleased he had a mare to talk too. And even be willing to maybe come and stay with him. He smiled secretly. He would take care of her in many ways. Ways she had not even imagined. She had no idea what she was getting herself into.

He wasn’t cruel, but he could be controlling and demanding. And he liked a mare that would talk back to him. That would not take his crap. He liked to taunt and tease while flirting. And his sense of humor came out too. “I am a widow too. I have been for a long time.” He had sadness in his eyes but it quickly vanished. He turned to her. “Enough about sad topics,” he said roughly.

He moved up close to her so their bodies were touching. He whispered in her ear. Careful that he didn’t hit her with his horns. “You will be mine.” He move apart and had a wicked smile on his face. “Do you know of the nearest meadow? I am tired of these swamps.” Vassago had to cool down. His body was on fire and it was all because of her. Her smell, the way she moved which was so elegantly, and the harmony of her voice drove him crazy with need. And he needed to find a meadow that had a cool pond. He didn’t want to make it obvious that he found her desirable at this time. Oh he would later though if she will have him. No, he will have her.

[Gracieux]

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[/right]début!

Through it all, Gracieux held a thousand conflicting emotions. She attempted to stamp them out, but somehow a growing knot of worry and amusement, fear and need, awkwardness and interest, all came together to form something she could not simply let go. His words were somehow corny and cruel and charming all rolled up into one writhing, enveloping ball of blatant chauvinism. Gracieux sure knew how to pick ‘em. The lady sucked it up, pushing the deterring thoughts from her pretty little head. She needed a foot in the door, and this was the only chance she had gotten. She figured he could not be all bad. And if he was… well… who knew. She was not one to be held down. She always got what she wanted, nothing less and nothing more.

A soft, bemused snort came at his words, a roll of her eyes dismissing him lightly, her pace picking up to a trot for just a moment before calming down. Punishments. He was so clever. She was sure he thought he would get away with a lot of things, but he was very wrong as long as she had some say. Gracieux was the epitome of a princess. She had always had the first and last say. A lady’s beauty does horrible things to men, and she was the first to take advantage of that. Her arsenal was not hooves and teeth, but eyelashes and curves. And that was fine with her.

She listened attentively as he spoke about his home, how she must have cared for her own family. The first part was enough to make her prick up her ears. Having territory to offer could sway Gracie to forgive quite a few filthy comments. Not all of them, but enough to keep him from getting scoffed at. Materialism was her religion of choice. However, she did feel he was off track about her caring for her herd. She had adored her mate, but only because he had taken care of her and kept her alive for a year or so. The rest of her herd… all those mares… they were just competition for attention, for food, for foals, for status. They were an annoyance, and thus they had gone their separate ways after the death of their protector. She felt unswayed by his story of being a widow. That was then. This was now. She disliked the notion of pining for some lost love. Gracieux was confident in her superiority over any other.

The next words coming as only half a surprise, she acted with little thought, nipping at his jaw line as his words faded out of existence. It was a rough bite, but far from mean - a combination of “shut up” and “we’ll see.” She let the emotion of it all drop from the space, his change of topic beneficial to the task. She knew nothing of this place, having lived in the forests her entire life. Though, that was a place she could never return to. Her father would have her head if she ever returned… while her mother berated her in the background for running off. “I’ve… no idea.” She moseyed, concentrating half-heartedly on keeping her tail from becoming wet again in the nasty bog. “Can’t be hard to find, though…”

fin!

[psylentia]

He saw different emotion cross her face and wondered what she was thinking. He’d give anything to know. But he didn’t ask. He figured it would be negative words anyways. She didn’t seem to really like him. More like put up with him because he was there. He was also accepting her company but he enjoyed it. She was attractive and sure of herself. She had spirit which he looked for in a mare. He even had a nickname for her, but would not say it yet. He was sure she would dislike it at this time of their relationship. Relationship? Much more an acquaintance. They were not friends yet. That took time but he was willing to do so. But he had a feeling she did not and it bothered him. He wanted to ask more than anything why was she like this around him. But it was too personal of a question. And he didn’t want her to think he was to eager.

Sometimes he found his eyes straying to her tail which swished back and forth over her buttocks. He smirked as he enjoyed the view of her rump. He gazed up to look at her. If only she knew what she did to him as he watched her move. The bite she gave him amused him. He wished to retaliate but had given her enough of a warning. He didn’t want to scare her away about his controlling nature. Not yet any way. If she stayed around him, she would come to find out.

“I guess since either of us know where a meadow with a pond is then we shall get lost together in search of one,” he suggested. He went to nudge her gently in the direction he wanted to go. He realized now where he wanted to take her, but would let her realize on her own. She was smart and if she rejected him then so be it. But he would take that chance. He liked a challenge and definitely took risks. Most of the time, his actions were successful. And he had a feeling that this would be in that category.

As he moved his muscles rippled on his body, his large hooves carefully put down so that he wouldn’t splash muck on her. His white feathered hooves wet from being in that muck. The tip of his tail was even we from dipping in the brown water every now and then. He tried to be close as possible to her wanting his body to touch hers as he walked with her. However he couldn’t get too close because of his horns, he didn’t want to hurt her with them. They were sharp now because he’d scrapped them on a tree earlier before he met her. When he walked most of the time he had his neck pulled back and it made his neck arch up. It was mostly a stance for others to stay away. He looked around while they walked for danger. They had only met just a few moments ago, but it was in his nature to keep others safe if they were with him. And she was more important than others to him, so he wouldn’t let anything touch her. But he didn’t have any doubt that she could take care of herself. Again he knew she had spirit and maybe would even dislike him from trying to fight for her instead of letting fight for herself. But either way, he would help her.

[Gracieux]

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[/right]début!

His physical qualities coupled with his material assets were certainly a plus in the femme’s eyes, and there was obviously a great chance of Gracieux warming up to him in response to such things, but it would take some time. Respect, as little as she had ever held, took time to come into play between Grace and another. She needed proof as to why she should grant you such a gift and was often highly discriminatory about whom would receive it. As willing as she was to throw herself at him in hopes of acquiring the things she desired, she knew she needed to leave herself some space to run in if she ever found herself having to back out of whatever wispy, assumed contract they were forming. Indeed, she was desperate, but she was not looking to be harmed. The waters would be tested for as long as possible.

Gracieux’s feet fell rhythmically. The hoof falls coming quickly, even when her body moved at a relatively slow pace. Her petite frame and delicately miniscule hooves accentuated the sensation, as did the massive beast at her side. Tail was often held upward in a fashion that gave away the existence of Arab blood, displaying the silky black strands that held between them silver-grey tendrils interspersed, a trait that her mane also boasted.

Get lost together. Right. A soft snort came from her at his words in sarcastic agreement, turning as he wished her to when his muzzle met her flesh. “I suppose we will…” As was her usual demeanor, the words dripped, innocent, sweet, silky and cruel. She leaned into his touch. It was not difficult or unnatural for her to act thusly about him, but it was not for affection or want. This was how she had always acted, a lesson learned young, a lesson learned out of necessity, out of desire of gain. She did not have to think about working him, it was her nature. As helpful as it was, though, it also harmed her on many occasions. It often became difficult for those around her to pick the sincerity out of her usual act. For all she knew, she could love this beast with every bit of her, eventually, and he would never understand that it was truthful and real.

Their bodies were pulled together out of his will, the warmth of him pleasant to her thin-skinned frame as it came and went with their motions and sway. She made no move to avoid the contact, finding comfort in the realization that home and protection could be soon on the horizon as well as his obvious desire for her, whether it be her company physically or emotionally. She guessed by his possessive words that it was not the latter. Grace imagined that this was as much a game to him as it was to her.

A few moments of walking passed, she watched him with little intent as they wandered, taking his lead and allowing him whatever control he apparently desired. This was a much different roll than she was used to playing, having often been under rule by one who was unwilling to contest her hysterical fits. It did but annoy her that she might have to put some effort into something.

“I suppose also that you think you’re clever…” The words were airy, lofty, teasing. She did not look at him as they passed her lips, but ahead of her.

fin!

[psylentia]

“Why is that a compliment, Gracieux?” He smirked at her. “Or is it sarcasm?” He was goading her. See if she was easy to rile up or not. Quick to temper. “I think that you don’t know what you want.” They were now walking into the forest and the trail wasn’t very big so he led the way having her behind him. He was boldly asking her if she wanted him. So yes he wanted to know. He was leading her to his land and he needed to know. Not many horses knew where the mountain range was. And he wanted to keep it that way.

He stepped over some fallen tree limps. “Careful, Gracieux, there is a lot to tri-… ufh,” He kind of hip hoped having tripped over something. He cursed under his breath. He remained quiet after that concentrating on where he stepped. Suddenly he heard a noise in the distance. He glanced back at Gracieux. He silently whispered “stay very quiet and very still.” But the hellhounds had already picked up their scent. Vassago shifted so Gracieux could go by, “Run! Swim to the other side of the river which is shallow. The hellhounds can’t swim. I’ll hold them off as long as I can.”

He was calm and sure of himself. Not panicking. “Give me a sound to know you made it across alright.” He went to nuzzle her soflty then went to nudge her in the direction he wanted her to go. “I will be right behind you in a moment after I hold them off.” He could hear the hellhounds getting closer. It only sounded like four of them. He turned and braced himself for the fight. Moving his head down like a ram to use his horns. Only in a fight did they come in handy. He hoped Gracieux would listen. He didn’t know much about her so he didn’t know if she was the type of mare to flee from danger or run towards it. He would be really impress if she did the latter. But he wanted her to get to safety as soon as possible. If she stayed he’d have to worry about her and get distracted.

[Gracieux]

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[/right]début!

She snorted at him in annoyance. Compliments. Sarcasm. Both were awkward when they passed her lips. It had simply been a question. A rude question, but one nonetheless. In reality, he had every right to question her on the meaning behind her inquiry, but she felt no reason in her to deal with his silliness. Gracieux's least favourite thing to do was answer a long line of silly questions. That, and repeating herself, were abhorrent in her eyes. She was quick to turn huffy and annoyed when either was asked of her more than once or twice a decade. Thusly, she was not much for conversation, especially with those that grated on these pet peeves, whom she tended to feel were stupid or useless for making such requests.

“Neither.” She huffed, growing impatient with him, her usual elegance disrupted by heavier footfalls and the swinging of her petite head away from him, making the point that she did not want to look… even though she felt it hard not to - not for his attractiveness, but for her vain need to see if he was at all upset by the gesture. “And, I know exactly what I want. And you… And… and! Neither of us is going to get it if you keep on with this stupidity!” She spat the words at him, creating and maintaining space between their pelts. She knew all well the hole that she was digging.

She answered not when he spoke again, and paid no attention when he stumbled. She could not put up such a bluff and give in before he did, could she? She would not give in. She was too stupid, and too caught up in her little hissy fit. His next words did shock her, however, bludgeoning her senses to the point where she stopped thinking, looked at him again. What? Quiet? Was he crazy? Or just stupid? She scoffed at him for a moment, the expression on her face showing her thoughts clearly. More words spilled from him, her head tilted, he moved. Her expression was a solid and unwavering mask of “you are crazy.” Still, she did as he said, but with little zest. She picked up a bit of speed, a trot, an almost canter, but nothing as urgent as he had suggested. She had to make a point, did she not? She always did.

Eventually, with him at a satisfactory distance, she slowed. The creek appeared immediately after. With an anguished sigh, she shook her head, not wanting to get into the cold water that held the frostiness of the autumn weather in its grasp. With much hesitation, a hoof, another, she backed out. There was no way she was going in there. She was still convinced that this silly brute was crazy! Trying to work her over… impress her… something. She mulled on it. Maybe if she crossed he would not find her. Maybe he would not come to look at all. Maybe he was just trying to lose her. Whatever. Obsidian hooves moved again to enter the water, tail held up out of the icy murk as well as she could manage. She cringed with every cold step, each time the water splashed up onto an area that had not been submerged previously.

At the other side, she stood dripping, tail hanging in a sad clump. She made no noise to him. Why should she? If there really was something out there, why would she want to call it to herself? She shook her head, mane flew. Blackened legs carried her, wandering a bit in the immediate area.

fin!

[psylentia]

If he wasn’t in such a dangerous situation then he would have enjoyed her attitude. But unfortunately he was faced with four hellhounds. Hellhounds were vicious big large creatures that attacked anything that moved. He wasn’t alone for long one took a flying leap towards Vassago. That move was too easy and he speared him with his centered horn and tossed him off having killed him instantly. Having been distracted by the first, he found himself having one on his back. Vassago bucked but couldn’t shake him. The hellhound bit into his shoulder. Vassago whincing at the pain. He did the only thing he thought of doing. He reared up high and slammed the creature into the tree. Vassago’s horns in his mane entered his body and he was dead. He looked around for the other two, but they must have run off.

He snorted and sighed in soreness. And he had a wound on his shoulder but nothing serious. It would heal. He ran to the clearing of the river. He saw her. She seemed calm and collected. As though she wasn’t disturbed. He sighed. Such a curious mare. He had a feeling she had a brick wall around her real personality. And wasn’t letting him in. She didn’t have any reason too. He was after all a perfect stranger. Vassago waded into the river and eventually found himself on the other side. He slowly walked towards her closing the distance. “Thanks for the help back there.” He was lightly scolding her. “But I admire a vixen that can follow orders. Makes my job easier.” He wondered how riled he could get her. Was she still miffed about earlier? Or did she shrug off such words after a while? He would eventually find out.

“This is my land.” Flat land then a range of mountains off to the right and left. “I usually stay on the ground instead of the mountains. Safer to run if need be.” He wanted to rest some. He moved off some and just lowered his head to the ground and grazed. He kept looking at her every now and then. He did find her attractive. She had a natural beauty about her. As though nothing could mess her up and if she did get messed up she would still look beautiful.

[Gracieux]

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[/right]début!

Impatiently, she waited for him to come along, almost completely convinced that he would do nothing of the sort. She knew not where she was, and felt sure that he would simply leave her there, having found something unpleasant about her. Nothing in her could figure out what that would be, however. She was perfect, was she not? She believed so. He would be stupid to abandon her... especially if she were to find him later. Gracieux had no physical prowess to her, being all beauty with no brains or brawn, but she was sure she could come up with something at least moderately horrible to cast upon him. If there was anything she could do, it was psychological warfare.

When he appeared on the opposite bank of the river ears twitched, picking up the sounds of his hoof falls, her pacing stopped, she lifted her head in his direction. A nicker of recognition, but nothing more. She watched him enter the water, wade across, and moved to meet him where he would again emerge from the place. Her movements were half-hearted, however, as she never quite made it back to the edge of the water and completely abandoned the task as he pulled himself from it. He was fine. Torn up, but fine. She still could not rationalize what it was he was trying to so heroically protect her from.

His massive body closed the space between him, he offered some biting words. Gracie only rolled her eyes and swayed slightly on her hooves, a mockingly innocent gesture. “You expect me, of all mares, me, to put my pretty little mug on the line? You’re crazy, buddy. Crazy.” She turned away from him, strolled a bit, drank lightly from the water’s edge. Eventually, and with much thought, her head did lift again, turned back over her shoulder to look at him, her expression thoughtful. “Though, if a big boy like you wants help from itty bitty me, maybe I’m with the wrong stallion.” The words were matter of fact, flat, and lacking sarcasm, void of teasing notes. She was serious, but not mean about it. Just thinking out loud.

When he told her of her coordinates, she nodded, again trusting that he had not been trying to abandon her. He would have been stupid to abandon her in his own home. A soft snort came as he moved away to graze. Again, her head lowered to drink, avoiding reentering the icy water. The tension here may have been more than they could handle.

fin!

[psylentia]

She had pricked his pride. It was like a slap in the face. His anger rising. He'd just saved her pretty rump and here she was telling him he couldn't defend himself and hers. He even had blood on his shoulder and his horns. She didn't even notice it. He scoffed upset. He wanted to throttle some sense into her.

The tension between them was growing. He didn't say anything to her for several minutes. "You can stay on my lands for as long as you want." He moved in front of her so she'd have to pay attention to him. "I would like to get to know you. It seems that at the moment, we are very different and do not get along. But I'm wanting to learn what those differences are."

While he said these things he was moving around her. "And other things, I want to know." his voice dropped to a deeper huskier tone. He went to nip her on the rump. He had to touch her to feel his lips on her buttocks. Not too hard but a pleasure pain feeling.

IF he had been successful in biting her then he'd say, "Do you like that?"

IF he did NOT nip her, he'd scowl but say playfully, "Avoid me all you want, but eventually that won't be possible." He went to try again. "I know you have some spirit in you. The question is will you show it to me."

[Gracieux]

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[/right]début!

Knowing her words tore into him, Gracieux was more than pleased. If he thought he could say such horrid things to her and get away with it, he had quite another thing coming. She would not stand for such abuse, not in the past, not now, nor ever. He would treat her well, whether it was in his brutish nature or not. She would draw out the qualities in him which her flighty whims desired. Grace would have him no other way. She would rather be alone than talked down to.

True, she was a peach - on all sarcastic levels, of course. And, true, she was ignorant of it - this trait was outright and honest. Still, though, she was not really all that horrible down inside. Gracieux was just incapable of being anything but what her first reactions made her. Her head was full of whimsy, not plans, and her heart was full of lust, not love. She saw nothing strange in this, assuming that most were as her and that those who strayed from her perceived norm were simply strange or confused.

His words fell, landed with a thud. She weaved on her feet, only slightly unnerved. The girl did not know what card to play; fight, flight, innocence, cruel, sweet, scared… stupid? Her body moved a step or two in reverse as he came before her. As dumb as she was, she knew he would win a fight… and, more than that, she knew that confronting him would only goad that fight to ensue. Her neck arched, grey eyes were cast down. There was not fear in her, but anticipation. He was erratic. She disapproved.

“We are not so different,” she let the words come, quietly, turning her body slightly as if about to walk away. “I just think… maybe neither of us knows what he are doing. I mean, obviously… you don’t know how to treat a lady.” She nudged him as his body passed her in his incessant circling, the action a sort of gesture in want of peace, a preemptive request for forgiveness in that which had only just passed her lips.

For a moment more, she watched him, unmoving as stone and unfeeling as she had ever been. She cared not if this all worked out, convinced at this point that her only choice was to find another that would treat her as she wished. Her mates… they needed to be easily goaded, smitten, moldable… they needed to be what she wanted them to be. She did not see this quality in Vassago. However, the challenge of him felt intriguing. It would be interesting to see how far she could make him bend before he broke.

A nip came, she tossed her head, back legs aching to strike out… the want of action more in flirt than in pain. As little as she enjoyed him, she was still easy enough to play. A snort at his words, her body turning toward him slowly. She was amused by him, having such anger and then still the gall to make such moves on her. “Sure, Baby, sure.” She continued her movement toward him, nudging his muzzle as she passed, walking away with little aim. He would have to do for now. And she would take this attention over nothing.

Tail swept up to deter pests, she turned to look at him. He did not expect her to wander alone, did he?

fin!

[psylentia]

Vassago watched her go. Standing still but snorted in defeat. He was not what she wanted. He could hear it in her words. Her few words that she spoke. He sighed. Vassago did demand much from a fae. Her to be his submissive. Her to do as he pleased with her. But if she pleased him, he would give her the world. But he’d yet to find a mare that would allow him to dominate her in breeding. She was still visible from where he stood. He smirked. He would meet her again. Maybe under better circumstances. Give her time perhaps to find another if she so wished.

He turned away from her and walked in the opposite direction. He walked slowly in case SHE was the one to come back, but he doubts it. She was too much like him. Dominate. She was smarter than she appeared. Again she said little but she had to think a lot in order to say the right thing at the right time. And it didn’t hurt for her to have those curves and beautiful colored pelt. He got hard just thinking about her beauty.

Yes, he gathered as much that she liked to play the skittish female. And he rather liked the cat and mouse game. He rather believed now they were still playing it. Both of them walking the other way. Both thinking the other would follow them. He stopped and turned around to look. He couldn’t see her any more. He sighed. Silly beast he was, he stopped and waited. Just in case. Would she cross that freezing water again? Would she go into the woods that the hellhounds lived? He cared about her safety. She shouldn’t cross that water again for a second time today. He had a feeling it would be too much for her. And the woods were not a good choice by herself either. Before he had time to think again, he bolted towards her. He found himself caring for her. He didn’t want harm coming to her. Like earlier, she’d be unawares of what was going on around her. He continued to run. It was a good distance between him and her. He didn’t think she was in any danger at the moment.

He called out her name as he thought he was closing near. He thought her saw her in the clearing. He trotted over to her. “I owe you an apology.” He stopped and looked at her. “I’m sorry that..” an apology was hard coming from a stallion like him. “I was a brute towards you.” He knew he’d been more but he hoped she’d get the picture without him voicing it. In his teasing nature he said, “You bring out the worst in me. But I will share a secret,” he moved into her personal space. “I’d like to take you right here and now.”

[Gracieux]

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She walked into the trees, convincing herself slowly but surely that she did not care if he followed. If he was not the type to follow her graveling, she did not need nor want him around. Not that she had expected him to gravel, but she had indeed been hoping he would follow. She had wanted his company here in this unfamiliar place! This was not a game she was trying to play, simply a movement from one patch of grass to another, and he had been childish enough to run off in opposition to her. What an imbecile. A snort left her ebon nostrils, obsidian-like hooves carried her around a fallen tree, unwilling to jump over. Who would risk such beauty to injury? Apparently Vassago thought she should. He would have to wake up if he really intended to keep her. She fumed with annoyance, recalling every useless word he had let spill from his lips. She hardly knew him, but was already feeling fed up. Such was her nature.

Eventually, not knowing where she was, Gracieux allowed herself to come to a stop. It was frightening to her to be alone and she was beginning to feel lost. Of course, it was all just overreaction, having it true that she had not gone very far into the forest at all. You did not get anywhere in a hurry whilst stomping along, grumpy, throwing a tantrum, voicing your self-pity rather harshly into the dark, damp, still air about you.

Her body leaned against a tree, head held up to look about. The place looked about the same in every direction. A sigh. She had best turn back... not that she had anywhere to go. Grace was still pondering what she believed to be a load of lies concerning “hellhounds” and such. Half of her still believed he was just trying to make a point. She could not, however, rationalize the wounds he had been littered with.

Her head began to lower in an act of grazing, but the dainty ears atop her head began to flicker, picking up the noise of his movement. Again, the head raised, only in time for her grey eyes to pick him up as he entered her space. She snorted at him; unwelcoming, pouting, annoyed, beckoning, wanting. She did not know how to feel about this all quite yet, but knew that she damn well was not done feeling angry at him or sorry for herself.

Black lips moved to berate him, but he spoke before she could find anything worthwhile to say. She stared at him for a moment, pulled her body away from the tree, head held in a defensive, lifted posture. Was she expected to just forgive him like that? For all that he had said and done? He had... he had... wait, what had he done? She could not figure out what exactly she had been mad about. She just was. Have we not all felt that way? When it comes down to it, things that we once thought were earth-shattering whittle down into insignificances. She sighed. Better make the best of this, girl.

Feet lifted hautily, coming only slightly closer to him. She looked on with thought, shook her head in an unforgiving manner. She would not let him off the hook for these things – especially not walking off and leaving her alone. Who knew what wandered here? Closer still, her muzzle lifted to touch his in a falsified act of compassion. “You'll make it up to me,” she told him, the words demanding, vicious, cooing, honey-glazed to soften them. “I know you will.” Her body moved along his side, pushing her face against his neck, the mane upon him folding and falling in locks over her muzzle as she displaced it. She nibbled on his shoulder lightly.

She did not falter when he spoke of wanting her, just moved alongside him further, smacking his forelegs with her tail and resting her head against his hip. “Wouldn't everyone...?” She spoke, almost dreamily, satisfied in herself. Her vanity welled up. He could make her such a monster.

fin!

[psylentia]

He didn't assume that she accepted his apology his intelligence realized that she was still frustrated at him. He was rather pleased that he could at least ruffle her feathers a little. But he didn't want her to be defensive at him, he wasn't used to fae's that made up their own minds. But he liked this fae. She was challenging. One minute she was hot the next cold. Most of the time she gave him the cold shoulder unless he made a move on her. But this was the first day of their meeting each other. Imagine what they'd be like in a few days. He smiled at that.

But making a move on her seemed to be the winning thing to do and he'd rather like that idea too. She seemed to enjoy it and she must be somewhat attractive to him. Even though he had horns that made him look down right scary. But he was massive, his body sculpted to perfection. Tone and all muscle. But his personality was all dominating and controlling. Full of confidence. A strong mare would have to put up with his demands and be willing to argue her own rules. And he had found her. She stood before him.

"You dare get closer," he taunted her. "I will do as you wish." He brushed by her doing a circular dance with her once again. "You know I will do my very best and then some." He came a little closer his mug barely brushing her rump. "When you want it," he movedd to try and trail nips down her slender bodice. "All you have to do is show me." He circled her again back to the front of her.

"I think I would dislike finding you with another," jealously spilling from his lips. He glanced at her. He didn't mean to say that allowed. She now had power over him. He didn't move away from her his body a breath away from hers. His voice lowered, "Stay with me?" It was a question not a demand. A simple request. But his gaze was not pleading but one of hunger in his eyes.

He wanted her and he didn't hide it. She may frustrate him and make him irate, but he found his body reacting to her nearness. Like she said earlier. Any stallion would want her. And she herself knew that. He found himself liking that she knew she was beautiful.

Earlier when he'd walked the other way, he'd realized it was a very bad move on his part. Not even thinking about her safety until thirty minutes had past. He would make it up to her. She just had pissed him off to the point where he'd wanted to throttle her if he could do so. But that didn't exuse his actions. Yes they were clashing but they were bantering more than arguing and that was a good sign. Their relationship would not be boring.

[Gracieux]

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[/right]début!

Gracieux was pleased with herself. She found wonderment in her own physical attributes. She was impressed by her own ingenuity. She was enthralled by the power a simple brush of the bodies could bring her. It was all very good, indeed. Perhaps now she would only have to spend half of her time gazing at her own reflection, the other half could be passed by playing with her new beau. He was indeed something of a brand new toy to her. She just had to take him out of the box: have a little test drive, turn every knob, press every button a few times over. Like all toys, though, he would likely eventually become tiresome to her. Grace would look for something new if he was not careful.

Still lost in thoughts of her own magnitude, his words were taken in flimsily. “Mmmm,” she purred, “I know you will.” Her muzzle brushed him, the flesh of her face becoming separated from his warm body as he began to move about. Every lustful action of his only egged her ego on. Whether that was good or bad, she did not care. It would be Vassago’s job to manage such a quality if he were to find fault in it. He would be smart to not feed her vanity beyond a point which his wit and stamina could handle. “Handful” was an understatement. Behind those pretty eyes, the heart of something wicked dwelled.

He moved down the side of her, flesh met flesh. A shiver ran over her. She did not care if it was of emotion or temperature, it was a welcomed feeling. His words caused a chuckle, which she masked to the best of her abilities. Show him? Show him! Whatever she wanted, she would take it - even if it was what she imagined he was alluding to. He would be told when and how, all inquiries would be ignored, he would complete the tasks assigned. That was that. Black eyes looked back at him, the cogs behind them obviously at work. “Oh, Honey… you’ll know. Don’t even worry your pretty little head ‘bout that.” The nips that ran down her side were reveled in, the attention well enjoyed, her body showing it clearly. She felt that this attention was long overdue. He returned to his post before her.

His jealous words fell. Something wicked welled up in her. “Hmm,” she oozed, “Stay pretty, stay big… You’ll be fine.” A chuckle intermingled with the words, entwining itself horribly around a syllable here and there. With his next words, she was roused slightly from this demeanor, eyes squinting at him in apprehensiveness. Why should she stay with him? Why should she not? She regretted the realization that she would have to let him win this thing so soon… but knew that her chances may fall slim if she strung him on too long. A smug, pleased look came over her mug. She touched her muzzle to him. “Sure,” she told him, demeanor as if she was simply doing all this for the hell of it, “I’ll give you a spin.”

Gracieux moved, actions airy, breath light, her muzzle met the flesh of his neck, grooming it lightly. If she was his, was he not hers? She thought of him as such. And, even though she knew in time that other mares would likely come into play, she was much more than insistent upon forever being the first, the favourite, the most beautiful and the most important. If he ever thought the situation would deviate from said plan, Vassago was sorely mistaken. “I’m sure you’ll take very good care of me… won’t you?”

fin!

[psylentia]

He took her in. Every bit of her. She was so beautiful. Beauty and the beast, he smirked. "I will take very good care of you. Don't worry about a thing. You will want for nothing. Everything in my power shall be yours." Vassago motioned for her to walk with him.

"Tell me about yourself. I'd like to know more about you." He walked beside her every now and then turning his head and glancing her way. "Tell me do you want a foal sometime in the future?" He asked her. He wanted one. He didn't know if it would be right away.

First he would just like to enjoy her body. She already made him hard. And she probably didn't know what she did to him with her little actions such as the swish of her tail, the shake of her mane, the way she moved, and her long legs drove him crazy. He had lusted bad for her but wanted to hide it from her.

He didn't want her to know she had power over him. He was beginning to realize she was his weakness. That wasn't nescessarily a bad thing but he had not wanted to feel something so deep for another mare. When Marina died, he'd felt pain so deep that it hurt worse than the beatings he'd gotten from his father when he was young. He closed his eyes to try to erase those memories from his mind.

Over head the weather grew cloudy and dark. It looked ready to storm. But they were out in the open and no shelter in sight. He used his wind powers to disperse the clouds preventing the storm to happen. He glanced at her. "I don't know about you, but I'm hungry. I know a place full of green lush vegetation on my lands and I'm taking you there. It's still a few minutes away. I believe you will like it."

He couldn't help glancing at her every now and then. He wondered what she was thinking. She was so closed off. She said very little so he was trying to relax her and get her to open up to him. To trust him.