There was little time when they arrived at the cabin, within the still dark hours of the morning just beginning to bloom with colour. She hadn't seen this place since it was nothing but a hollow shell of wooden bones. It had changed greatly since then. Yet, it was the imposing sun that seeped into the horizon as the sun began to rise and take its place that made the tug of sleep nothing but an inevitability for the nocturnal couple. Something that came quickly, even when met with a potent smell of what Risque would describe as wilderness. Syn might as well have been another life with no traces of the city to be found. But along with that came the disappearance of the incessant neediness that existed around her. Gone was their endless foolish chatter like monkeys and the incompetence stemming agitation, like nettles clinging to clothes, poking beneath the fabric. None of that mattered here. Far enough away from all of that clamour and instead surrounded by the vastness that could never be found in any covert corner within the city limits. A wildness existed here, in this isolated place that was far removed from the surmounting irritations that only seemed to grow. How she loathed admitting that this impromptu visit here was.... A blessing in an unlikely disguise. A relief too, that it was nothing like the beaten-down town of Jankin. Even if it could not escape the same setbacks of nature.. the worst part of it being the copious amounts of... bugs. It was as if what seemed like every single creepy crawly known to mankind existed around them in such a small radius. Something Risque forced from her mind.

The cabin itself was surprisingly roomy for the two of them. There was nothing that resembled Darcy's childhood home in those walls, at least from what she could tell. This was furnished in a semblance of style, just not her own. It screamed of her lover in many ways, from the cowhide rugs that adorned the floor, its rugged and rustic interior. So much like the ones that existed upon the pages of one of the cowboy magazines that he liked to read before bed.

But for the rare moment since she awoke to a new evening, she was met without a slew of appointments waiting for her. In fact, she was met with.... Obscurity. Despite the crickets that buzzed outside, she was met with the enveloping blissful quiet. A languid awareness seeped into her body, only to immediately notice her Ravager's absence. Her eyes drifted to the vacant spot where he once was.

He had always been an earlier rise than herself, yet he was never one to stray far from her side. But they were not at Syn. There was nothing truly familiar here to her. Princess was also missing, which came as no surprise, her own chosen feline (not a were) but a trained pet took watch upon the porch, its sharp gaze looking out into the wilderness at nothing in particular. But how odd it was not to have multiple felines greeting her. In fact, nothing did. Not her lover, not a feline... just... emptiness.

It was then that Risque allowed the first breath of air to fill her once-lifeless lungs, the deepest breath she would likely take that whole evening. It did not take long before a level of contentment began to form and with that, awake-ness, and the task of getting ready. Smooth, bare feet seem to protest touching the textured wood flooring and slick cowhide rug.. She had slept rather well. Far better than she thought she would without all her familiar creature comforts surrounding her. One thing led to the other as she prepped and primped herself so all that remained was clothes.

A soft thunk and the sound of a door closing alerted her of the presence of another. The timing was decidedly perfect. Darcy. She didn't need to smell him to know. The vampire queen was aware of him with that connection that flourished between them. Also the realistic notion of who else would be in the middle of nowhere. Yet she always seemed to be innately aware of just where he was. Such pleasant thoughts began to circle her mind, imagining what would happen if someone were to get lost and happen upon the cabin. Would it be Darcy, her feline or her that would get to it first? Hm. It was a distracting enough thought that she hadn't listened for footfalls as she eyed the outfit she selected that she draped over the now-made bed. That lingerie still adorned her sylphlike figure as if she delayed the act of change into something so... covered.

She bent smoothly to procure one of her more conservative, kitten heels with a frown as if deliberating if she could wear them instead. Considering it only for only a moment, she was so rarely unaware of the quiet vampire that silently ghosted the doorway, watching, spying. It was his accented voice that caused her pale blue eyes to shift at her shoes and then at him. Her mate had the feet of a cat when he wished to.

He claimed those shoes would only get stuck in the mud. Mud. A huff of breath left her nose. Of course, he had to remind her of the mud. The only mud she enjoy was a mud mask. But he was not wrong.

But it didn't change the rational fact that she didn't wish for those shoes to get ruined, albeit, for a much different reason than her mate. Those cowboy boots were far better suited for her outfit and this place. How he knew she knew this. Although she could walk on near anything in heels, it didn't mean she should.. It was perhaps why she overpacked, a variety of outfits and shoes that did not work in a place like this but enough that did. But it was tempting. How many of those would not even see outside that cabin on this trip? With a resigned sigh, she placed those heels beside the boots. If they remained in that cabin she could wear any of those heels... but even that was ridiculous, especially with the rustic planks that would just love to trip a stiletto heel.
"I forgot about the.. mud." Couldn't they go somewhere... less muddy?

But Darcy's logical concern for her shoes was distracted by her current attire or lack thereof. Claiming that she could just wear that. Did he mean, to wear the fresh set of lacy lingerie that graced her figure in the outdoors? Her body was made for it, he was not wrong to appreciate it. Every inch of her, a sinner's dream. Darcy was perhaps her biggest fan of all. He had been worried about her shoes and yet he encouraged her to parade around in her lingerie outside. Only a male would suggest that.

"I would not have to change if we remain here. Surely that would be the better alternative to.. mud. Oui?" She let her gaze lower to her mate's own outfit. A plaid shirt accompanied by loose well-lived jeans. The jeans... she quite liked them on him and the way they hung on his hips. Yet as much as she loathed the print of plaid... Here, it suited him. As always, she assessed him thoroughly from his head down to those.. socks. He suited this place. Rustic, a true man. The exact opposite to her femininity. Hard edges against her feminine softness. Her cowboy, looking ever the part, even through its simplicity. "But as you said, there will be mud where we are going. Lest not forget the bugs either..." Lingerie was certainly a no. "I will wear it beneath my clothes." She must have some layer of defence.

The longer he lingered, the pleasant masculine aroma, of pine and burning wood filtered through the space. But then there was another scent buried in the vague aroma of Princess.. a scent she had not smelled in a long while but was unmistakable... horse. It had been a long time since she had seen a horse.

Risque let her pale hypnotic gaze linger upon him for a moment before she began changing in front of him, each movement, purposeful. One long leg slipped into each leg of those fitted jeans with ease and yet she did so in such a way that he could see the fabric slowly slip over the swell of her ass. But even the art of dressing was done to draw in the male gaze even as he remained where he stood. An art she mastered long ago.

She plucked the clean pair of boots almost pointedly from the corner she had shoved them in before tossing him a potent look over her slender shoulder. Better them getting dirty than her shoes. Black jeans, a fitted top and long midnight blue black hair left unbound so that it nearly kissed the tops of those jeans.
Risque turned gracefully prowling toward her lover like a tiger, only every step like a seduction from the sway of her hips, to the way she tracked him like he was the only one she gave any notice to.
She drew in close, drawing in a breath along with his masculine heady scent. How everything smelled all the more potent up close. Including all the things that fluttered within her.
"I am ready." She purred salaciously near his ear.

"What do you plan to show me first?"

Perhaps even she was a little curious of their plans, already giving into the notion that it involved nothing to do with that cabin and everything to do with... mud. Shame, really.

Especially when she had already seen her quota of cows on their drive here. Risque was entirely under the firm notion that once you had seen one you have seen them all.

But she was here and it was about time to allow Darcy to show off all he had been up to.