05-20-2018, 09:24 AM
Femur can remember when his eyes hadn’t really been eyes. They’d been white flame. Hot and cleansing and somehow all-seeing. He’d told her of the curse attached to the white fire and still she’d burned for him. Power or no power, she’d burned for him because Fate had decreed it and who was Femur to deny the constant rampant combustion of her heart and flesh?
She loved him no less and no more for that power. Could love him just for the iridescent blue of his skin and the glisten of fang against his mouth. Loved him through everything and could do no less than just love him unconditionally. Even as he pushed on ahead deeper into the forest and she slipped along after him, forever his ghost-girl.
Femur is shocked by his sudden revelation. It’s not that he hasn’t trusted her just that she’s never heard the origin story of the curse. He had been so young! Especially to take on that kind of responsibility - putting a wild uncontainable beast down for the sake of all. Even one that was a blood relative! She gave a sad shake of her head for the blue yearling she never knew, mourning the fact that what he’d done couldn’t have been easy to stomach know matter how necessary.
It had to have been necessary too. She knew Claw did not kill without provocation. Even as a wolf, he killed for the sake of the hunt and need for nourishment. There was a respect in him for the art of battle and one’s foe - she’d seen enough when he taught Tephra’s soldiers and their own children.
She follows him (hasn’t she always?) diligently through the tangle of vines. Green ropes of living plant glide over and against blue flesh then gold. The feel of it is enough to make her shiver. Not from fear of the unknown and where they’re going. Not even from fear of the conversation they’re having and what he’s asked of her. But from the sheer fact that she is with him and just maybe they’ll make a moment to outlast all the other moments that have come before.
It is love and lust that makes her shiver, giddy at the thought of passion and the press of his fanged lips to her overheated skin.
The spring in her step and the bounce in her butt is silenced by the sudden recognition of where they are. She can still see their bevy of foals trampoline the grass and plants down to bare dirt beneath their fun and games. Here she had tended to bruised egos and smoothed over scraped skin with a loving mouth. It has been so long since Claw and her had last stood there and now nature is taking it back. Just like she knows it will take back their bones one day.
Femur is careful of the new growth of moss that carpets the playden as she joins him in the center of it. He pins her there with his stare and she knows that he is not finished with the telling of his tale. The fact that he ate his father’s heart does not faze her on the least. She loves him so, she could eat him up! That isn’t hard to understand though he ate the heart not out of love but out of power and command. She understood those too; could only imagine what her father might have made her do if he’d been given the chance (they’d have drank from the oasis he called up from the ground through an offering of death and blood).
He admits that he’ll go crazy.
How can she care when he is kidding her between every word? Each kiss is a distraction from what he says though she hears him and it sinks into some part of her brain not dimmed and dumbed by passion.
Finally she surfaces from the fog of passion to ask him - “Do you want to watch it all burn?”
Sometimes even Femur is victim to her own dark nature. But some part of her feels she must ask this to gage his own level of madness that she has seen creep in over the last year.
@[Longclaw] wrote most of this at work on my phone so I apologize for any mistakes lol. Also enjoying the thread but ready to wrap up and move on to the next bit if you are? ❤️