05-16-2017, 09:10 PM
She wishes that he had told her more. He can see it on soft angles of her face as they fall momentarily, disappointed that his words lacked intimacy. The shadow that lingers over the bay stallion was his and his alone – he would not allow himself to place such affliction on her. He would not burden her. She ignores the tension that flickers over his features and he is thankful that she does (at least for the time being). He is weary, but her presence gave him new strength. Her voice fills him with gladness, closing the crystal blue of his eyes to listen to her tale. She weaves him a story, painting vivid pictures in his mind. He sighs contentedly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his cobalt lips as they fall to rest on her neck, pressing gently against her gold and white skin. He wishes he had been there with her, splashing through the waters and being her guide through the dark of the forest.
“You truly have a traveler’s heart,” he says to her as she finishes telling him her adventures, his voice deep and grumbling as the waves against the shore.
Soon, the sun is below the horizon. It happens quickly, much more quickly than it would have if Warrick had been alone tonight. The night air on the beach was humid and damp, heavy with salt and moisture. The softness of her hips and shoulders fall into the hardened places of his own, and he allows it. He welcomes it, actually. In response he instinctively leans into her, supporting the weight of her body against him. He turns when she touches his muzzle, sweet and delicate touches on the darkness of his skin with her pale lips. Drawn to her youth and infectious personality, the stallion does not tell her to stop and nor does he move away from her. “Tang,” he murmurs to her, his voice raspy and nearly breathless, like the sea wind had taken all of his oxygen from him. He turns to her and gently traces the shadow of her cheek with his cobalt lips, following where the moon’s light illuminated the delicate hollows of her face as her young, wide eyes watch him.
Warrick closes his eyes momentarily, pressing the dark of his lips into her warm, supple skin of her neck, wandering carelessly against the alternating patterns golden and white. He pauses, lingering just millimeters away from her, his breath warm and wet as he exhales.
He is stuck. He is caught in a whirlwind – too vulnerable for some, yet too broken for others. His eyes remain closed, and his mouth follows suit, almost pained. He presses his forehead against her neck, inhaling the scent of her deeply. He clenches his teeth, the muscles in his jaw tensing. The cold night air is frigid against his skin, even though the temperatures were warm in Tephra tonight. She longs for him, and he longs for her – longs for a bond, faithfulness, and loyalty. But can he return those qualities? Is he still capable of being that horse? The one he was before his family left him behind?
“I can’t,” he tells her with a shuddered breath, though doesn’t specify. He does not draw away from her and continues to press his forehead against her, the pale and golden hairs of her mane mingling with the darkness of his own.
“You truly have a traveler’s heart,” he says to her as she finishes telling him her adventures, his voice deep and grumbling as the waves against the shore.
Soon, the sun is below the horizon. It happens quickly, much more quickly than it would have if Warrick had been alone tonight. The night air on the beach was humid and damp, heavy with salt and moisture. The softness of her hips and shoulders fall into the hardened places of his own, and he allows it. He welcomes it, actually. In response he instinctively leans into her, supporting the weight of her body against him. He turns when she touches his muzzle, sweet and delicate touches on the darkness of his skin with her pale lips. Drawn to her youth and infectious personality, the stallion does not tell her to stop and nor does he move away from her. “Tang,” he murmurs to her, his voice raspy and nearly breathless, like the sea wind had taken all of his oxygen from him. He turns to her and gently traces the shadow of her cheek with his cobalt lips, following where the moon’s light illuminated the delicate hollows of her face as her young, wide eyes watch him.
Warrick closes his eyes momentarily, pressing the dark of his lips into her warm, supple skin of her neck, wandering carelessly against the alternating patterns golden and white. He pauses, lingering just millimeters away from her, his breath warm and wet as he exhales.
He is stuck. He is caught in a whirlwind – too vulnerable for some, yet too broken for others. His eyes remain closed, and his mouth follows suit, almost pained. He presses his forehead against her neck, inhaling the scent of her deeply. He clenches his teeth, the muscles in his jaw tensing. The cold night air is frigid against his skin, even though the temperatures were warm in Tephra tonight. She longs for him, and he longs for her – longs for a bond, faithfulness, and loyalty. But can he return those qualities? Is he still capable of being that horse? The one he was before his family left him behind?
“I can’t,” he tells her with a shuddered breath, though doesn’t specify. He does not draw away from her and continues to press his forehead against her, the pale and golden hairs of her mane mingling with the darkness of his own.
like the sun,
swallowed up by the earth
warrick
@[Tangerine]
OMG i know don't leaaaaave <333333