.firey occuli light up when his wonderous femina returns, a trumpet emitting from vocal tuners in reply to her whicker. A swift cadence is picked up by sturdy shanks as she collapses into sleep, brining the blood bay vagabond's sinewed chassis to her lithe, slender one. Enigmatic features surface worry as noble visage is lowered and deep amber pools watch her troubled sleep. Adenoids dilate as he whuffs softly, gently placing his charred mug 'cross her silven withers, a low whicker escaping his labrums. Deciding to let her sleep, he ambles away and wades into the warm waters of the tropical sea that formed his cove, then spends his time standing placidly atop his high craggy throne, watching everything in his abode. A monarch butterfly drifts slowly down to land on his unmoving nose, carefree. It flys away with a quick toss o' his dial, off to do whatever things simple creatures do to bide their time. Dark thoughts drift to Yarrawa and the obvious pain she was in. Oh, how he wished to help her, even to know what was wrong. He hated to see her in pain or alone, and yet it seemed almost as if she wanted to be alone so that she would not have to share whatever was haunting her. Perhaps she was sick? Oh, please, no. Not Yarrawa, and still with twins, although he thought that they would be born soon, hopefully. So deeply consumed in his wonderings and worries was the masculine that he failed to see his beautiful lead rise and disapear into the umbrage, just as she had wanted it.
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