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.. the femme fatale had simply been on a walk around the lands of Nottingham, in search of the best horse. Upon sighting the youth and his charge, an almost invisible smile curles upon lethally formed labia. Approaching with quite ease, a low cluck formed in larynx, vocals letting it thrum out. This horse clearly didn't trumpet out his ingression nor did he strut around like the Locksley Meadows were his own. The stallion clearly wasn't arrogant and obviously didn't march around raising a wild cacophony of cocky bugles. A chuckle rang out from larynx, cluck emitting shortly after. She would offer anything for the fine stag, Wow... your horse is probably one of the best I've seen around here she remarked with a nod. Who wouldn't be interested in such a steed? About how much is he? femma questions, awaiting the reply ..