12-10-2016, 06:24 PM
There was a breeze that picked up.
And as always, with the coming breeze, came the floral scent that chased the bright purple ass of Azlyn. It was almost uncanny. He smelled flowers, he looks for purple. Azlyn. It was hard to describe what he felt about her. Such a complicated mess of emotions. He enjoyed her company; her sass. He enjoyed the company of a friendship that was not dependent on what he could give to someone else. Instead, he was a man, and she was a woman, and they were able to braise each other with little concern for politics and foreign affairs. It was plausible to say that Ashley could feel himself drawing down deeper emotions for her; but as far as he could tell, she was someone he thoroughly enjoyed and, for the moment, had no wish to further examine.
He had been hurt before. Love and lust and betrayal usually came hand in hand, and in his case, it was the cost of his throne and the majority of his credibility with his Kingdom. It was by only the deaths or desertion of those who had been there from the beginning that the story of his broken heart faded into obscurity—and he had no wishes to repeat or visit his memories. He had only just come to grips with the reality that those days were long gone, and despite the few from those days that were still around, most of them that he chose to associate himself with were just ones who knew him to be as he was; rather than what he had lost.
And so he leaves the sanctuary of the spring and goes heading through the forest; his red buckskin hide set against the green like a target. Azlyn was much better suited to the island; flowers grew here that were her color naturally. A beautiful deep purple that would forever haunt the magician’s mind’s eye—no matter what their relationship would develop into.
Not that he was examining that.
Because he was not.
And as always, with the coming breeze, came the floral scent that chased the bright purple ass of Azlyn. It was almost uncanny. He smelled flowers, he looks for purple. Azlyn. It was hard to describe what he felt about her. Such a complicated mess of emotions. He enjoyed her company; her sass. He enjoyed the company of a friendship that was not dependent on what he could give to someone else. Instead, he was a man, and she was a woman, and they were able to braise each other with little concern for politics and foreign affairs. It was plausible to say that Ashley could feel himself drawing down deeper emotions for her; but as far as he could tell, she was someone he thoroughly enjoyed and, for the moment, had no wish to further examine.
He had been hurt before. Love and lust and betrayal usually came hand in hand, and in his case, it was the cost of his throne and the majority of his credibility with his Kingdom. It was by only the deaths or desertion of those who had been there from the beginning that the story of his broken heart faded into obscurity—and he had no wishes to repeat or visit his memories. He had only just come to grips with the reality that those days were long gone, and despite the few from those days that were still around, most of them that he chose to associate himself with were just ones who knew him to be as he was; rather than what he had lost.
And so he leaves the sanctuary of the spring and goes heading through the forest; his red buckskin hide set against the green like a target. Azlyn was much better suited to the island; flowers grew here that were her color naturally. A beautiful deep purple that would forever haunt the magician’s mind’s eye—no matter what their relationship would develop into.
Not that he was examining that.
Because he was not.
ashley
I walked the path, it led me to the end.