Naive and unknowing [OPEN] [no need to be PG]

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GIOIELLO.

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Dainty, pale hooves carefully picked their way through the lands, which lands, she wasn't quite sure. Something inside of her told her to turn tail and run away as quick as her petite frame would carry her, but she sighed inwardly and told herself to stop being such a coward - if she continued to be afraid for the rest of her life she would never have any adventures! So that settled it, she would stay, explore, maybe meet some fellow equines she could become friends with.

Wide amethyst orbs glittered as they scanned the horizon, wrinkling her velveteen nose at the pungent smell that filled them, although she hadn't the faintest clue what it was. Pure ivory coat, as innocent and untainted as a dove's wing was once again sleek and smooth, her arabian bloodlines meant she never built a thick pelt, even in the winter which was quite an issue.

She'd been feeling something stir within her for a few weeks now, something up until now was unknown to her - she assumed this was what her Dam had told her was being 'in heat'. Having only just reached the young age of three, she supposed she was no longer a filly, but a mare. A light smile stretched playfully over her soft kissers at this realisation, and she snorted joyfully, delicate pillars moving into a fluid trot, moving gently and elegantly through the land, crown held on a gracefully arched neck.

Sliding to an abrupt stop she let a light whinny escape from her lips, glimpsing around innocently, silken silver strands of her banner fluttering in the gentle wind.

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[bg=#282828] Fons Anticipation. Vigilance. Lust. Wild eyes darted back and forth across the trees, searching for any sign of movement amongst them; though it was the scent that would bring him closer to his prey, not his vision. This young stallion was devoid of any noble intentions, and as small breeze wafted a trace of the beautiful smell in his direction, he quivered with his eagerness. In addition, the lack of odor from a stallion was almost as invigorating as the mare’s pheromones; Fons had a little too much experience with competitors than he would have liked, as his prematurely scarred pelt showed. But that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was finding this beauty, and teaching her why she shouldn’t be wandering the breeding grounds alone. A soft zephyr persisted through the trees, and as Fons walked on, the fragrance grew steadily stronger. He was standing upwind of her, and after a few short minutes the femme finally came into view, trotting her way through the trees. She was a striking Arabian ess, with a strong but slight frame and long silken banners that fluttered delicately in the wind. She looked so pure, so innocent, that Fons almost hesitated. But instinct overruled reason here, and with a determined air about him he stalked closer to the gorgeous figure. Snap went the twig under Fons’ rear hoof, and instantly the mare slid to a halt in a small clearing, letting a slight whinny of surprise part her lips. Her glittering amethyst eyes scanned the trees, and met Fons’ silver orbs full of malevolence. A grin parted his lips, and in one fluid movement of rippling muscle he dashed towards her, not wanting to give her an opportunity to escape.

[..words../ 287.
[..inspiration../ Misery by Maroon 5.
[..ooc../ Been a while since I’ve played this character, I’m adjusting. xP

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It all happened so quickly. One minute, she was calm, without a care in the world, the next she was petrified. The snap of the twig had attracted her attention, and turning playfully she was shocked to a standstill, silver orbs filled with intentions, intentions unknown to her met her amethyst orbs, a shiver rippling up her spine.

A horse. No, a stallion she corrected herself, was approaching. At speed. There was a snide, satanic smile smothered over his mouth, making the blood pound and adrenaline race through the young fae's veins. Run. RUN. But she couldn't. She was frozen to the spot - like a rabbit in headlights.

Sure, she knew of lust. Heard of it anyway. But she'd never experienced it first hand - Gioiello could sense it rippling off him in waves, his masculine figure easily out shadowing her own - she hadn't a chance in hell of fighting or flighting.

Too late now anyway, and she shut her eyes, and reopened them, hoping it was merely a nightmare.

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