[private] come here, lupine - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: OOC (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=24) +--- Forum: Archive (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=81) +---- Forum: Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=98) +----- Forum: Tephra (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=85) +----- Thread: [private] come here, lupine (/showthread.php?tid=22076) |
come here, lupine - Malis - 12-13-2018 She never meant to be gone so long, never thought it would take so long to find the twins, pluck them safely from this world so ruined with plague and riddled with death. But she has seen the seasons change, watched the red leaves drop from their moorings on branches so thin and brittle, leaving them bare as bones beneath. Has felt the temperatures drop until her breath clings to her nose like ghosts in the early dawn each morning. There is even snow now, late-winter clinging to the less temperate places, though she is sure there is no snow in Tephra, none where her youngest has been waiting for her to come collect him again. It feels strange for him to be so absent from her, strange to have this boy and only love him at a distance, theoretically, because she has had no chance to know him. It strikes an ache in her chest, a wound that always drags her thoughts back to him, back to gray man who had fathered him. A fear that he would come looking and try to take the boy from her - a fear that he should, that her son would be better off without her. But she is too wicked and too greedy and she will never give him up, even now has chosen to abandon her search for a pair of twins she has grown to suspect are not quite ready to be found. A few days will make little difference to them, but it will be enough to ease the ache in her chest that she would confess of to none. She crosses the border of the Tephran territory, greeted by a wall of humidity that is so familiar, so thick with memories that she is nearly blown away. She had not realized how deeply she had grown to associate this place, the stink of fire and brimstone, with the man who had been her king, her husband. The man she had watched wither away and leave her, she who could not die. She who would have given anything to join him in the peace (or nothingness) of death. For a while, she is like a ghost standing there. Unmoving and gazing off at nothing, remembering everything until her heart is so heavy she is not sure she’ll be able to carry it any further. She knows the paths they took when they walked together - knows which will take her to their old den and which will take her to where they swam when the humidity became too much. Knows she wants to revisit these places, knows she will come undone again if she does. She’s nearly forgotten the purpose of being here at all when suddenly the hair along her spine rises, the skin beneath prickling and pulling and drawing a sharp intensity back to those green eyes that had grown shiny with sorrow. Her head turns quickly to the side, her gaze like a blade. But it is a smile that ghosts across her lips when her eyes find who it was that found her first. “Lupine,” she calls to him, a quiet, affectionate murmur for just the two of them, “come here, my clever boy.” RE: come here, lupine - Lupine - 12-14-2018 I was born without this fear He’d been so very close to escaping. Until he’d been distracted by another. A feline like him, but big. Strangely big. He is not inclined to dwell, however, and so he does not. He’d promised to see her again, but he is on a mission. He had to complete his mission first. Mom is out there all by her lonesome still, and what if she needs him? Now only this seems clear Lupine RE: come here, lupine - Malis - 12-16-2018 There is still some sense of strangeness that this boy came from her. So small and soft and feline, so sweet as he lands on her back with his little paws kneading her skin. He seems too good, too gentle, too unlike her, and she wonders once again at what kind of a man his father must have been. Wonders if she is wrong to try and keep the boy from him, offer them no opportunity to know one another. It seems wrong now, especially while she has been so absent from him for so long. He spills down her side and for a moment she feels a flair of panic, drops her shoulder low so the ground is not so far. But he twists with a grace she knows all too well, landing on paws that shift suddenly into hooves and long legs and the body of the boy she had birthed. A body that looked so much like hers, blue and bright and so beautiful. She is selfish that way, broken, loves when they look like her and not the men who aren’t Killdare. In an instant he is pressed against her chest with his face buried in the gem-bright blue of her neck. She folds her neck over him, drags him close with her chin, turns her face so that her cheek is pressed to him. “Hi baby,” she murmurs against his cheek, nuzzles quiet little kisses against the curve of his jaw. “I missed you too, so much.” She makes no effort to let go of him, just holds him close and steady, showers him with soft affections and all the kisses they missed out on in the time she’s been gone. “Do you mind if I stay here with you for a few days, love?” It is a warning masked by a promise. The promise to stay, the reminder that it can’t be forever. “Maybe you can show me all your favorite places here, and I’ll show you mine.” RE: come here, lupine - Lupine - 12-31-2018 I was born without this fear She pulls him close, and he happily crushes himself against her. Though he’d traded the body of the feline for that of the horse, a rumble still vibrates through his chest, echoing the enthusiastic purr of a few moments earlier. In his youthful naivete, he hadn’t noticed the worry. The way her features had faintly echoed her thoughts. He’d been too happy to see her to notice anything else. Now only this seems clear Lupine |