back to old ways. [PG13]

[Wolfie]

Nobody ever changes. Change is just a myth. Everyone is always the same deep down. This was true for the beautiful dun Daniaya. Even after her tangles with heated emotions, here she was, back for more. Back for yet another dance with danger. For she was a temptress at heart, a vile creature spawned from the pits of hell to tempt every stallion she passed, falling victim to her charms. She knew it, too, and no more then a foot or two into the breeding lands, she felt alive again. She felt normal. No longer did she question herself. She was who she was, and she was happy with herself. She was ravishingly, unfairly beautiful and no one knew it better then her. No stallion would refuse to bed her. She had quite the collection of pretty little minions following her about. She only selected the best nowadays.

No longer was she merely the dancing-girl who extorts a cry of lust and concupiscence by the lascivious contortions of her body; who breaks the will, masters the mind of a stag by the spectacle of her quivering bodice and tossing banner; she was now revealed in a sense as the symbolic incarnation of world-old Vice, the goddess of immortal Hysteria, the Curse of Beauty supreme above all other beauties by the cataleptic spasm that stirs her flesh and steels her muscles, - a monstrous Beast of the Apocalypse, indifferent, irresponsible, insensible, poisoning.

She was as beautiful as the pale moon, but as toxic as nuclear waste. Yet here she was, for all to behold. Ready for any stag that would give her a good time. She arched her fine neck, large dark eyes looking on. Oh how she missed this life.

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[jokersdelight]

The broad frame of a very shadow skulking in the night appeared in the dim glow cast by the waning moon, quickly vanishing behind the cover of darkness when the clouds once again moved to cover the pale moonlight. Had his stong musk not been in the air and the stallion not been stepping about the land as if it were his own, there might have been a chance he would have gone unnoticed. However, this was not the case Imoo the great stallion, who had forever lurked these lands in confined solitare, was on the move.

Imoo stepped loudly through the brush, stopping suddendly his daggers gripping into the brush. He had heard a noise, lifting his maw he scented a fae. He immediately droppped his head, looking with his dark orbs back and forth, there was a maiden somewhere and he was going to lay claim. It had been many a night since the young stag had bed a fae, much to long. He knew himself to be an attractive and strong stallion, that no woman could resist him, and if they thought they could...Well he had other ways to change their minds, he'd have them one way or another.

Imoo, the texbook badboy moved slightly to the right to be sheltered by a large tree, appreaching the mare from behind, he quietly nickered to her, "It's quite the night to be be alone wouldn't you say, young lass?" He twisted his dark maw into the classic sinister smile, circling the mare slowly looking the defined curvy bodice over, his hungry orbs seeming taking in her very being.