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your mess is mine - warrick - Tangerine - 12-21-2017 Tangerine In the middle of the night, I go walking in my sleep @[Warrick] IM SO HAPPY also, i was going to sleep on this to make sure i like it... but now i just want to post it because im so excited to be writing Tang again :| RE: your mess is mine - warrick - Warrick - 12-22-2017 like the sun swallowed up by the earth He wonders if she dreams of him, the way he dreams of her. Sleep rarely finds him, and when it does, it is fitful and fleeting - a few hours rest, maybe. He hadn’t slept soundly since he had laid down in the open plains with her, beneath millions of stars and unfiltered moonlight, without the hazy smoke of the volcano he knows so well. On nights like this one, where he wants nothing more than to rest his weary body but his mind will not allow it, he will come to the grotto to stand within its humid moisture and still waters, warmed by the belly of the volcano closely on the other side. Tonight, as his navy wings fold tightly into his sides so that he may squeeze down the worn path that he follows blindly, a scent that is not at all expected drifts to him, and his slow walk hesitates momentarily. It is a dream - he must be sleeping, for there is no way it could be (but of course it is). Warrick begins to move again, his nostrils flaring as he brushes his lips against the warm stone hearth, fresh with her scent. Not only does his heart call out to her, but his soul as well, but he still continues to move slowly and with deliberate purpose, afraid that his mind is playing tricks on him and that he would come into the grotto and find only emptiness, like he has found every night for many, many moons. She is staring into the depths of the still waters, a familiar figure of gold and black and white, when the path opens up. He stands for a moment, his breath caught in his throat, sure that the image of her will waver and fade away, melting into nothingness to leave him once more. His chest tightens at the sight of her, and somehow he is able to remain silent even though his mind is screaming for him to move towards her, to close the space between them and to never part from her. A few moments pass and when her figure remains solid, he moves slowly towards her, his dark hooves clicking on the smooth stone of the grotto. She must have heard him, or seen his reflection in the brilliant pool, for she breathes his name and turns to look at him, delight in her eyes. Finally, the winged-stallion is at peace once again. He is near her at once, at her side with a deep nicker rumbling in his throat. He’s running his muzzle along her shoulder and neck, huffing gently and deliberately as he inhales the smell of her, leaving tender kisses on her ivory and honey-gold skin, while the darkness of her mane falls across his face. His wings flutter at his sides, smooth velvet against her as one stretches to drape over her back, bending around her to pull himself closer to her, their sides coming together in a perfect fit. “Tangerine,” he says breathlessly, inhaling the scent of the wildness of the plains that still clings to her, tracing the soft slope of her cheek with cobalt lips before pressing into her muzzle with a loving, strong kiss. He knows she will always return, but each time she does, it is as if he will never see her again. “I am whole again,” his voice quivers, auburn lids closing over tired eyes, feeling as though sleep would finally come to him, but too exhilarated by her presence to allow it just yet. The crown, his people, the country of Tephra - all of it fades away and he is left only with thoughts of her, and their children, as the warmth of the volcano pulsates against them. Warrick @[Tangerine] omggggg <3333 RE: your mess is mine - warrick - Tangerine - 12-29-2017 Tangerine In the middle of the night, I go walking in my sleep @[Warrick] RE: your mess is mine - warrick - Warrick - 12-30-2017 like the sun swallowed up by the earth His auburn skin shivers with delight at every touch of her pale, warm lips against him - many night he had dreamed of her (though not like her visions - his dreams are muddy and hazy, and barely he remembers them once he awakens, save for the feeling it leaves him when he opens his eyes). And now she is here, like she always says she will be, as unwavering as the stillness of the heated spring below them, his light within the darkness, his beacon when all else fails him. She speaks his name and he unravels, his memories taking him back to their nights in the plains beneath the fire-lit sky, starlight and moonlight beaming down upon their bodies as they had danced together, two souls intertwined within the darkness and shadow of the world. Beneath the weight of the crown, he had often reminisced of the simple days and nights spent with her ancestors, and the memory would soothe the aching of his soul, a salve upon the unrest within his heart. Though only a few months have gone by since their goodbyes in the grassland, so much has happened in between - he hadn’t thought that Tangerine would have a third eye on his life, for he knows not how her precognition works exactly besides it always being extremely accurate. The winged man has been tempted and tested, baited with the desires of the flesh (his mind had been on Wound, the delicate woman with a sad smile, who Warrick felt as if he needed to protect and guide her, to have her blossom beneath the Tephran sun). The battle between his gentle spirit and the way he is expected to rule Tephra with an iron fist, to protect and serve, to harbor those within the borders and to remain just. He had felt himself starting to slip away, thread by thread, especially when Ellyse announced her and Dahmer’s move into the great Sylvan forest, leaving him feeling weak and vulnerable beneath the volcano’s steady gaze. But with Tangerine by his side, all worries and travesties melt away and there is only her, only them, and everything in the world is now set right. ‘I can never stay away…’ He knows this is true, because every time they are apart she finds her way back to him, her soul calling to his, and his to hers, the other not truly whole without the other. With a deep huff from his nostrils he breathes into her mane, happiness alighting in the great blueness of his gaze, his muzzle still unable to part from the honey-gold and alabaster of her curved neck. ‘...because I love you.’ The words spoken alone do not shock him (because of course she does, he hadn’t doubted it for a second, and he knows that she knows his love for her knows no end), but hearing them on her lips, hanging delicately in the humidity caused by the underwater spring and their beating hearts, he sighs deeply with contentment. “I love you, Tangerine.” More than the crown, more than Tephra, more than anything. His confession is robust in his throat and chest, deep with passion and longing. There is a burning desire, a need stirring deep within him that can only be brought by her alone, and he steps backward to follow the path of her spine with a warm and parted mouth, his great wing still fluttering tenderly along her back. She is as wayward as the wind and he is as sturdy as the volcano that rumbles above them, but she will always return and he will always be there to welcome her. Their reunion lasts well into the depths of twilight, their coupling bathed in the glow of the stars peeking through the tiny holes in the cavern, steam rising around them from the water as well as from their intermingling bodies. It is early morning, where dawn is not yet over the horizon, but Warrick wouldn’t have been able to tell because he is so engrossed in her. The darkness of his mane clings to the coiled muscle of his neck, his deep whispering and deliberate kisses finding her face as they lay beside each other, his heart returning to a steady beat at last. “My wild one,” he murmurs with adoration, lipping at the ivory and black of her mane behind her ears as his eyelids sleepily hang halfway over his burning blue gaze. “Things in Tephra have changed,” he muses quietly, relaxed and comfortable in her embrace. “How much have you seen?” Warrick @[Tangerine] RE: your mess is mine - warrick - Tangerine - 01-18-2018 Tangerine In the middle of the night, I go walking in my sleep @[Warrick] sorry you had to wait so long for rambling XD RE: your mess is mine - warrick - Warrick - 01-20-2018 like the sun swallowed up by the earth Her visions still mesmerize him - how clear and vivid they must be in her mind’s eye to show her his new role in Tephra, the going-ons of their children, and whatever else she may have missed in her absence. Crowns, of course. He is not expecting two, however, and he tilts his head slightly. “Solace?” he murmurs to himself incredulously - it is not a haughty notion for his daughter to move herself up in the world of Beqanna (he had expected her to, honestly), but hearing it fall from the lips of his children’s own mother, rattles him to the core with a swelling of pride and honor. A lazy and sleepy smile finds the navy of his mouth, resting there perfectly like it belongs. “My sweet Solace,” he repeats gently, unable to hide the adoration and affection that glistens in his eyes for his golden and alabaster daughter. Of course, Tangerine interpreted the vision of the crowns differently than Warrick would have, and describes the weight of it already on his shoulders and how it had marred her sleep, touching his withers with her pink lips. His eyes soften with concern and understanding, reaching towards her to gently groom a few of her dark strands of mane back into place, ending with a tender kiss on the slope of her neck.She does not see his duty as a good thing, but she is here beside him anyway, to love and support him, and he cannot ask her any more than that. It is all he needs to survive, and though his sense of duty and love for Tephra is grand, her love for him is what gives him his strength and courage. It always has. “When I am with you, the burden you have envisioned is as light as a feather,” he tells her in a sweet whisper, closing his eyes momentarily as he lets the rest of her words sink in, magical in their revelation as they leave her lips. Her vision of his subjects causes a humorous smile to tug onto his cobalt lips, a deep chuckle resounding in the crevices of his chest. The analogy is amusing because it rings with truth, though he does not mind being their caretaker and attempting to soothe their wails of hunger - he will protect and serve, as he as always sworn to do. “I have had plenty of practice dealing with the mewlings of babes, thanks to you. I think I’m rather good at it.” He laughs again, this time the sound leaving his throat and reverberating into the humid air around them, nipping playfully at her two-toned skin just as she lightly plucks at the sensitive skin of his jawline. And though the last of her vision does not surprise him, he had hoped she had not seen this part of his life. He tenses for a moment, unsure of what will come of the information, fear gripping his throat. But she is casual and light-hearted, her eyes glimmering with humor as her tail matter-of-factly flicks against his legs. He does not return her coyness, for he is embarrassed at the idea of her already knowing what has conspired between himself and Wound. He has not seen the gentle woman in a while, and though he had not known of her pregnancy, he is not surprised that their night beneath the stars resulted in her conception. His heart is light, however, despite the guilt that rests there along with it - Warrick has never turned away a child, and he is excited to know that another one of his own will join Tephra’s residents - a daughter, nonetheless. “Her name is Wound.” He pauses, lifting his eyes to her with a sparkle of delight yet with a glassy look of hesitancy. “You would like her.” She reminds me of you, he doesn’t say. Instead: “She’s a dreamer, like us.” He wonders if he needs to explain his affection for the woman, why his heart had been drawn to her despite his devotion and loyalty for Tangerine. He had never understood how Tangerine could love and care for both him and Amet years ago, but now, as he lies with her in their warm grotto, he feels as if he understands her more than ever. Warrick @[Tangerine] <3 RE: your mess is mine - warrick - Tangerine - 02-17-2018 Tangerine In the middle of the night, I go walking in my sleep |