[RO] [m] your beauty on the run from me

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Specifically, this thread is marked mature because of: .


Only very mild sexual references/activity but still warning just in case. :>

Messiah wanted to learn more about the horses. Though he was a feral creature, he was familiar enough with the animals to know they weren't primarily for food—they were too big for a coyote to hunt, anyway—but hadn't the slightest idea how a coyote could just sit on one and trot around on it. Curious, he'd snuck to the D'Neville mansion to peek over the fence into the garden, watching the beasts that roamed and grazed there. He thought most of them ugly, except the pale one that he'd pet, and all of them stupid, if maybe a little endearing in their antics. He snorted, leaning aginst the iron fence, as he watched them graze.

Eventually, looking was not enough—he wanted to ride one. He opened the gate and snuck in, walking through the garden. Sassy wasn't there, the palomino likely taken out by some other Luperci. Instead, various mares wandered the gardens, some ugly and splotchy and others boring and plain in coloration. He scowled, folding his arms and flattening his ears, and eyed them. All of them looked too tall to clamber onto.

One was stouter than the others, though, and Messiah boldly approached it. C'mere, sweetiething, he cooed, and the ugly greyish-brown mare lifted her head and studied him. He grinned and jogged closer, though she turned away from him—so he leaped and grabbed her dark tail, jerking it. Hey, stop! he demanded, trying to reel her in by her tail, but she whirled on him. He jumped away from her teeth but determinedly leaped at her again—managing to tackle her side and throw his arms over her back. Fisting hands in the mane at her withers, he tried to climb on.

The horse bucked.

Messiah managed a shrill yelp before he fell in the dirt, curling quickly into a ball with hands covering his head and neck. A whinny sounded above him—and then a whistle, long and low with a sharp note at the end. The expected hooves fell—but beside him, and then plodding away. Trembling, Messiah parted his fingers to see the mare departing and approaching a grey coyote at the other side of the garden, by the stable.

He shut his eyes and curled in a tighter ball regardless, realizing he could've died, until a soft voice addressed him. Are you okay?

Messiah looked up, then sat up, willowy arms hugging his knobbly knees. He did not look at the coyote again. Yeah, he mumbled against his folded arms, nearly inaudible.

Maybe any other horse would've let you get away with climbing on them. Pulling tails... not so much, the coyote admonished, but only mildly. Want some help up?

He didn't make eye contact but nodded and stuck out his hand. The one that grasped it was not as soft or small as he thought it would have been; the paw was good-sized, almost wolf-sized, and with the beginnings of scratches and calluses that suggested someone who worked or ran on it a lot. He was hoisted to his feet then had to look up slightly to see the face of his savior -- one grey, with reddish nose and cheeks and curiously pale blue eyes.

I'm Vicira, the pretty coyote said. Messiah tried to grin and felt his mouth go lopsided.

Uh, Messiah, he replied when he realized she was waiting for a name. De le Poer, he added, but her mild, polite smile was unchanged as she looked at him. He thought to tell her who the de le Poers were—but certainly everyone here knew. He'd heard all the stories, about the leaders, about the skulls. He knew every legendary coyote from his parents' stories. He frowned but avoided looking her in the eye.

You're new here, right? Vicira prompted, and he nodded. And you don't know a whole lot about horses. He shook his head, shamefully. Want me to show you them?

You would? Messiah asked, gawking now.

Of course, Vicira said, and she grinned at him—still mild, but teasingly so now. Come on.

He followed her with ears down, shoulders hunched, tail tucked. She walked prim and tall in comparison, though she carried herself in a way that was not arrogant or drawing any real attention to herself. His was already drawn—eyes roaming her shoulders, her back, her tail. The bob of hair that flicked from her face as she turned her head and glanced at him, looking amused—maybe a little self-conscious, herself.

Here's Hiba, she's really sweet, Vicira said, grabbing at Messiah's wrist, which seemed to burn around the grip of her fingers. His hand was held out to one of the splotchy ugly horses, who walked toward him and lipped his hands. He tried to jerk away, and at last stepped back, grinning nervously and rubbing his wrist.

I like her, she's nice, he managed, and Vicira nodded proudly. She wandered on to the next horse, and Messiah followed her—for a long time, it seemed. They went from horse to horse, Vici telling him a little about them, answering his questions on how to ride them—like with saddles and reins, and not just jumping bare onto their back like a wild animal—and explaining a little about herself, too. He learned she liked books and scouting and four legs, like he did, but most of all Messiah learned that Vicira was the nicest coyote he'd ever met in Inferni.

Want to ride with me? Vicira asked suddenly.

Messiah gazed at her, wide-eyed, and she laughed. Just in a circle around the mansion, promise, she added. I'm not a little coyote, and you might not weigh much—but I don't want to sit long on a horse's back with two of us. We can ride Tobias for maybe a few minutes. Then sometime I'll teach you how to ride on your own, okay? She grinned her beautiful grin at him, and he wagged his tail, nodding.

Tobias turned out to be a chestnut horse, and a big one. Vicira hopped onto his back after leading him out from the stall and putting the leather contraptions on him, and she bade Messiah climb up behind her. As soon as he did, he realized how awkward this position was, his legs all fall apart. And when Vicira did something the stallion walked and Messiah realized just how much horses moved. Arm clamped around the girl's long, thin waist, and she laughed softly. It's okay, she soothed.

Am I supposed to feel like I'm gonna fall off? Messiah whined.

At first it feels that way, Vicira said. One hand came down to cover his at her belly, and he flushed with heat, certain she'd feel his heart hammering against her back. She patted his hand reassuringly then grasped the reins in both again, turning Tobias in a slow circle.

Messiah flattened his ears and tried to grin. Thanks, Vicira, for showing me this, he said, and she hummed acknowledgment. The horse plodded along, though it seemed she'd cut their route down from around the mansion to just a wide circle outside the yard. The rocking made him feel a little ill, and his thighs remained odd and strained (and on fire), but he clung to the female and inhaled her horsey scent.

She was beautiful. She was so nice. He lifted a hand and cupped it over one small breast, fondling it, and put his nose to her back with a delirious, happy smile.

The horse stopped, and the body tensed. No, Vicira said—almost snapped, at complete odds with how mildly she'd spoken and laughed and grinned before. Get off the horse.

Stifling a whimper, Messiah jerked his hand away from her chest and almost fell off the horse, tail tucked fully between his legs—both in submission and to hide one of the sources of the burning. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and stared at the ground, while Vicira turned Tobias around and stared down at him. Her breasts both rose and fall sharply with fast breaths, but her face was sharp and calm.

Do not touch me. I don't want to be touched. Do you understand?

I'm—I'm sorry, Messiah whined, opening hands to her in pleading even as he hunched his head. I—I thought—I thought you liked me and—

Vicira's lip twitched, but she pressed them thinly together. Do not ever touch me again, she said, low and serious but not biting as he thought. Her hands trembled when she tugged the reins round again. I think you should go away now.

He bit down on one more apology, one more cry that he'd misunderstood, didn't she see he just liked her and thought her pretty and thought she was so nice she might like him, and instead spun on his heel and tucked his tail and ran away.

Vicira watched him go, hiccoughed, rubbed at her eyes with an elbow, and rode Tobias back to the mansion.

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