05-26-2018, 07:48 PM
haze like a fever
i fell like a dreamer for sweet tea and lemonade; it clings to my t-shirt it’s loud and it lingers, designed to suffocate. i light up to find what i’ve known all this time, there’s some beauty here yet
The reunion gives her the same feeling as she would have if she were a human (with smudged, bruised hands and soft lips and salt-curled hair and sunkissed skin) and her fingers had slipped the last piece into the puzzle. Relief and security, comfort and victory — the emotions tangle within her chest like writhing snakes in a way Wishbone cannot begin to unravel. They’ve been away for nearly a year now, where before they had been inseparable.
His laugh brightens the expression in her amber eyes even further. “Of course I did, silly,” she calls back. It’s true, her face presses into the corners and crevices and planes of him just as she had done as a child. She’s not totally ignorant of their maturity, but her mind neglects to remind her that they’ve both changed and the things that used to be might not be the same now.
Her hips twist, allowing her back half to dance around him until she can fully see his rugged face. Wishbone can’t deny he looks delicious with the backdrop of Nerine to grace the angle of his jawline and the bright blue of his markings. He holds the same devilish looks as his father, physically suave even while his maturing mind might not feel the same way. The mahogany heiress forces her amber eyes to focus on his own hazel ones before her thoughts get too clouded with sultry shadow and alluring smoke.
“Well, you’re no childhood-best-friend Wolfbane either,” she banters back. His mouth catches her off guard (that one fang poking through his careless smirk) and she feels heat spread against her face and down her lithe neck. “I’m going to keep you here forever.” Oh how little does Wishbone know of how true a statement that might be, but her head is tossing and, before either of them can speak again, she is pivoting on her heels and careening back the way she had come.
Her dark mane has dried by now and the Nerinian wind tosses her tangled locks against her shoulders and the slope of her withers. Wishbone casts a look over her shoulder to make sure her friend is following — perhaps even flying above her — before racing toward her favorite spot in Nerine. It’s tricky to get to and she’d actually found it by chance, investigating the depths of a cavern.
They reach the beachfront quickly and Wishbone slows to a brisk trot once her feet touch the gray sand. She doesn’t stop there, but rather splashes loudly into the waves with a delirious laugh. The water is chillier here than in Tephra, where their home-land’s waves are warmed by the strength of the volcano and the southern ocean, but the girl enjoys the sting on her skin. “We’re going to have to swim,” she tells him. It’s a statement and never a question — they have both grown up bathing in hot springs and splashing through high tides.
The beach turns into a sloping, granite cliff to their right with outcroppings of hardy beach grass clinging to the dark rock. With a dark (not in the sense of evil, but laced with something equally as dangerous) look over her shoulder, Wishbone plunges into the briny waves and pushes off into the immediate drop-off the ocean provides. Her hooves can’t touch the ground yet — she’s not sure if they ever will — but they only have to swim around the corner of the cliff before the mouth of the cavern yawns like a sleeping lioness.
The girl steps onto the mouth of cave, where a foot of water still quietly laps onto the rock. Darkness looms where the sun cannot reach, but Wishbone has been in this cavern enough times to dive right into the shadows with a “It’s this way” to her two-toned friend. The walls of the cave rise on either side of them, narrow enough that she can sense the chill of the rock just past the touch of her shoulders. Wolfbane might touch his wings against their length, but there’s enough room for them both to pass without injury.
About six horse-lengths ahead of them, the cavern opens into a mighty grotto. No light reaches this place, so deeply-set into the cliff’s face, but there is an ethereal glow regardless. Thousands of glow-worms illuminate the grotto in hazy blue light and the radiance casts itself upon Wishbone’s feminine face. In the darkness, the worms become an underground starry sky with blue constellations set against rugged rock. Stalagmites hang precariously from the ceiling, some reflecting in the pool of seawater that lies in the center of the grotto.
Wishbone walks deeper into the opening, turning her gaze upon Wolfbane’s to catch his expression. Her head gives a quick toss to rid her eyesight of her waterlogged forelock, but once her eyes land on him, she becomes as still as a doe sensing danger. The blue glow highlights the darkness of her body and brightens the already-warm colors of her figure, but she’s more focused on how Wolfbane looks in the illumination of the glow-worms.
Her voice is a whisper in the dim light, heard only barely above the hush of the waves behind their backs and the drip of moisture running off the stalagmites into the pool. “Welcome to my favorite place in Nerine.”
His laugh brightens the expression in her amber eyes even further. “Of course I did, silly,” she calls back. It’s true, her face presses into the corners and crevices and planes of him just as she had done as a child. She’s not totally ignorant of their maturity, but her mind neglects to remind her that they’ve both changed and the things that used to be might not be the same now.
Her hips twist, allowing her back half to dance around him until she can fully see his rugged face. Wishbone can’t deny he looks delicious with the backdrop of Nerine to grace the angle of his jawline and the bright blue of his markings. He holds the same devilish looks as his father, physically suave even while his maturing mind might not feel the same way. The mahogany heiress forces her amber eyes to focus on his own hazel ones before her thoughts get too clouded with sultry shadow and alluring smoke.
“Well, you’re no childhood-best-friend Wolfbane either,” she banters back. His mouth catches her off guard (that one fang poking through his careless smirk) and she feels heat spread against her face and down her lithe neck. “I’m going to keep you here forever.” Oh how little does Wishbone know of how true a statement that might be, but her head is tossing and, before either of them can speak again, she is pivoting on her heels and careening back the way she had come.
Her dark mane has dried by now and the Nerinian wind tosses her tangled locks against her shoulders and the slope of her withers. Wishbone casts a look over her shoulder to make sure her friend is following — perhaps even flying above her — before racing toward her favorite spot in Nerine. It’s tricky to get to and she’d actually found it by chance, investigating the depths of a cavern.
They reach the beachfront quickly and Wishbone slows to a brisk trot once her feet touch the gray sand. She doesn’t stop there, but rather splashes loudly into the waves with a delirious laugh. The water is chillier here than in Tephra, where their home-land’s waves are warmed by the strength of the volcano and the southern ocean, but the girl enjoys the sting on her skin. “We’re going to have to swim,” she tells him. It’s a statement and never a question — they have both grown up bathing in hot springs and splashing through high tides.
The beach turns into a sloping, granite cliff to their right with outcroppings of hardy beach grass clinging to the dark rock. With a dark (not in the sense of evil, but laced with something equally as dangerous) look over her shoulder, Wishbone plunges into the briny waves and pushes off into the immediate drop-off the ocean provides. Her hooves can’t touch the ground yet — she’s not sure if they ever will — but they only have to swim around the corner of the cliff before the mouth of the cavern yawns like a sleeping lioness.
The girl steps onto the mouth of cave, where a foot of water still quietly laps onto the rock. Darkness looms where the sun cannot reach, but Wishbone has been in this cavern enough times to dive right into the shadows with a “It’s this way” to her two-toned friend. The walls of the cave rise on either side of them, narrow enough that she can sense the chill of the rock just past the touch of her shoulders. Wolfbane might touch his wings against their length, but there’s enough room for them both to pass without injury.
About six horse-lengths ahead of them, the cavern opens into a mighty grotto. No light reaches this place, so deeply-set into the cliff’s face, but there is an ethereal glow regardless. Thousands of glow-worms illuminate the grotto in hazy blue light and the radiance casts itself upon Wishbone’s feminine face. In the darkness, the worms become an underground starry sky with blue constellations set against rugged rock. Stalagmites hang precariously from the ceiling, some reflecting in the pool of seawater that lies in the center of the grotto.
Wishbone walks deeper into the opening, turning her gaze upon Wolfbane’s to catch his expression. Her head gives a quick toss to rid her eyesight of her waterlogged forelock, but once her eyes land on him, she becomes as still as a doe sensing danger. The blue glow highlights the darkness of her body and brightens the already-warm colors of her figure, but she’s more focused on how Wolfbane looks in the illumination of the glow-worms.
Her voice is a whisper in the dim light, heard only barely above the hush of the waves behind their backs and the drip of moisture running off the stalagmites into the pool. “Welcome to my favorite place in Nerine.”
@[Wolfbane] i imagine it to look something like this but without the hole in the ceiling and more space for them to walk around the pool of water
