She watches Helion wade deeper into the water, as admiring of the way the water glows around him as she’s ever been. The red dust washes from his golden hair nearly as quickly as it had from her scales, and the nereid watches as he soaks his wings. They turn from amber to gold before her eyes, and she smiles at the change, and at the water.
He shakes his wings unexpectedly, sending a spray of water into the air that glitters like a thousand little rainbows. Moira catches them without thinking about it at all, holding the reflectant droplets in the air where they shimmer and quake in the afternoon breeze. She holds them up, admiring how pretty they look overhead, and lowers her gaze only when water laps at her chest from Helion’s return.
The pegasus is smiling at her, his silver eyes bright in his dirt streak face. She feels her chest warming in a way that at first seems familiar (Helion has always radiated warmth) but after a moment she realizes he is too far away. It is not the water to blame either; the spring is far cooler than the glow in her chest, and doesn’t at all explain the sudden desire to move even closer to Helion.
Swallowing, Moira allows the water to fall around them. She’d never thought of Helion as anything but her friend, the sun. But this is different from friendship. These are the sorts of feelings that lead to babies, she is very sure, so Moira - who does not want babies anytime soon - thinks that maybe she should avoid them.
So she tells him:“I’m glad I came too. It really is beautiful.” and then looks anywhere but directly at him.
Eventually (only a few seconds later - it only feels like an eternity) her amethyst eyes find the streaks that the falling water have left on Helion’s still dusty cheek, and Moira cannot bite back a grin and a playful: “Even if the locals might need a little help bathing.” With her words, an orb of water begins to emerge from the spring. It glitters faintly with Moira’s manipulation, and begins to float toward Helion.
@Helion
He shakes his wings unexpectedly, sending a spray of water into the air that glitters like a thousand little rainbows. Moira catches them without thinking about it at all, holding the reflectant droplets in the air where they shimmer and quake in the afternoon breeze. She holds them up, admiring how pretty they look overhead, and lowers her gaze only when water laps at her chest from Helion’s return.
The pegasus is smiling at her, his silver eyes bright in his dirt streak face. She feels her chest warming in a way that at first seems familiar (Helion has always radiated warmth) but after a moment she realizes he is too far away. It is not the water to blame either; the spring is far cooler than the glow in her chest, and doesn’t at all explain the sudden desire to move even closer to Helion.
Swallowing, Moira allows the water to fall around them. She’d never thought of Helion as anything but her friend, the sun. But this is different from friendship. These are the sorts of feelings that lead to babies, she is very sure, so Moira - who does not want babies anytime soon - thinks that maybe she should avoid them.
So she tells him:“I’m glad I came too. It really is beautiful.” and then looks anywhere but directly at him.
Eventually (only a few seconds later - it only feels like an eternity) her amethyst eyes find the streaks that the falling water have left on Helion’s still dusty cheek, and Moira cannot bite back a grin and a playful: “Even if the locals might need a little help bathing.” With her words, an orb of water begins to emerge from the spring. It glitters faintly with Moira’s manipulation, and begins to float toward Helion.
@Helion