You're not the only one

Isabella Heiwa · 11-12-2011, 02:34 AM

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forgive any discrepancies, I'm still getting used to this pretty little harlot.

Word Count -> 560

The wind pulled at her coarse hair, still shiny from her brushing earlier that day. It flickered around his shoulders, her face into the wind to keep the strands from touching her strange colored eyes. It was a terribly nice day, even though the hybrid could feel the cooling kiss of the northern wind in the thinnest parts of her pelt. Inhaling deeply, Isabella could smell the frost in the air, as though the chill itself could be sensed. It was a cold scent, sharp like the cold would become. She grinned crookedly at the thought, winter being her best season in the past. Men always came crawling for warmth when the snows fell and the sun did not heat the air. Her parlor had always been warm, with a hot fire in the hearth, and her arms open and welcoming.

But there was no parlor here. There was not hearth to stack with logs and set aflame. Isabella had nowhere to go now; her home was behind her and she did not know what awaited her. The mare beneath her snorted as she continued her trot, still not certain about her mistress. Even so, Seductive Deception could read the woman's worries, but the mood was still pleasant. Sure, they had traveled far together already, and the mare was always fed well and before the woman herself ate, but the palomino did not know Isabella well. Her master was missing, though she knew that the man would never reappear, not as far as they had gone. The mare shook her head, jostling the soft, brown leather reins.

Lost in her thoughts, Isabella did not glance toward the figure in the distance. Ducky hesitated beneath her, and she felt the pause in the gait. The woman instantly put a gentle hand on the thick neck, lovingly stroking the mare. But the woman gazed up, bi-colored eyes seeing what the mare's large brown ones had seen already. Calm smile fading, Isabella straightened in her makeshift saddle. It was only a figure in the distance. No, there were two. One was a horse and the other one like herself.

Isabella had no seen anyone, though the scents of strangers had been thick near the river. A pack, she had assumed. So, she had given it a wide berth, not willing to encounter strangers yet. She was not ready. She was not prepared.

Curiosity overwhelmed her. Isabella gave a sigh of annoyance, at herself, and nudged the mare closer to the pair. The scent grew stronger, and it was not one she knew. How could she? She was not from here. But as she got closer, she stiffened, back straight. This figure felt.. male. Still, the hybrid was the loner here, and sweetness would go a long way. Even if it was nothing but a lie.

The mounted woman approached them, and now she could see it was a man and his horse. Her lips twisted into her familiar smile, that easy one that made promises. But the two of them stayed a fair distance away; they could see one another, but the man could not lay his hands on her without rising and moving. "Handsome stranger, where have I come to?" Her tones were honey and her eyes were soft, though her heart was like the oncoming winter; ruthlessly cold.

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