i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high
He watches the play of emotions and the trail of memories they bring, unable to contain his curiosity. The desire to know more - to know how she sees him. She had followed him home, but this northernmost peninsula is a far cry from the cocooning safety of the forest or gentle freedom of the meadow. It is harsh and open and wild, with few places to hide when the world grows too bright.
Except the caves. He wonders then what she would make of the caves.
The very place he intends to bring her when the ‘yes’ slips past her gilded lips. His blue eyes gleam with a delighted anticipation at the sound of the simple word, grin stretching his lips when she reaches out to nudge him. He reaches out and lips briefly at a stray lock of her golden forelock before bursting forward with a laugh.
He leads her down to the beach, continuing north until the hills rise into an imposing, rocky line of cliffs. The caves nestle beneath, some obvious, some entirely hidden unless one knows where to look. And Reave knows exactly where to look.
Rune cries out overhead. He knows where they are headed, and he is not pleased. But then, the raptor has always hated enclosed spaces.
Reave picks through piles of stone until they reach a small opening. He halts before entering, gaze turning to Israfel, the impish caste to his features perfectly matching the curve of his lips. “They sleep during the day,” he says, voice low, almost conspiratorial. “But if you know where to look, they’re not hard to find.” He pauses then, features gentling almost imperceptibly. “I think you’ll like them. You remind me of them.”
reave
@Israfel