05-24-2018, 11:30 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
She laughs aloud when he appears. He’d been hiding in plain sight, beneath the shade of a willow tree, but when he drags himself into the sunlight he looks as though he had been birthed from the tree itself. It’s a funny thing, to picture her older brother sliding from the thick trunk of the willow, and it leaves a lasting smile even once the echo of her laughter has disappeared into the crisp mountain air.
Wishbone waits for her cream-and-gold brother to approach her, amber eyes scanning over his body even while his blue ones do the same. She hadn’t noticed the benefits of her time in Nerine until she’d traveled with Tähti and Breckin, the journey seeming much easier than the past couple of times she’s traveled. At first she had measured that up to be the short distance between Nerine and Hyaline, but with the stretch of her run Wishbone has finally recognized that she has, in fact, grown up (and gained muscle, thanks to Scorch’s exercises).
The girl closes her eyes against the warmth of Svedka’s breath and when her eyelids slide open again, there is mischief in their amber depths. She allows her brother a few moments to gulp the fresh water from the lake, but just when he might raise his head she strikes out with her closest foreleg. The surface shatters before them, droplets twinkling in the sunlight and hopefully spraying her brother’s gold-and-white face.
Wishbone scurries backward, out of the water, before her brother might lash out with any retaliation, and pauses with her lithe body half-turned, a smile on her mouth. “Annoying you, even for a little bit,” she banters in response to his question. The girl tosses her tangled dark forelock out of her face before stepping closer again, amber eyes beginning to sober with seriousness.
“But other than that, Queen Hestia is dead. Scorch is the queen of Nerine now, but she’s named me heiress.” They are heavy words, so soon after their sibling bantering, but Wishbone is certain Svedka can handle them. The mahogany girl moves herself closer to her brother now, lipping at his shoulder as she does so. “Do you think I’ll be a good queen, when the time comes?” His opinion is worth just as much to her as the Nerinians, as Scorch’s, as their father’s, as her mother’s, as Solace’s and so she holds her breath in tender anticipation.
Wishbone waits for her cream-and-gold brother to approach her, amber eyes scanning over his body even while his blue ones do the same. She hadn’t noticed the benefits of her time in Nerine until she’d traveled with Tähti and Breckin, the journey seeming much easier than the past couple of times she’s traveled. At first she had measured that up to be the short distance between Nerine and Hyaline, but with the stretch of her run Wishbone has finally recognized that she has, in fact, grown up (and gained muscle, thanks to Scorch’s exercises).
The girl closes her eyes against the warmth of Svedka’s breath and when her eyelids slide open again, there is mischief in their amber depths. She allows her brother a few moments to gulp the fresh water from the lake, but just when he might raise his head she strikes out with her closest foreleg. The surface shatters before them, droplets twinkling in the sunlight and hopefully spraying her brother’s gold-and-white face.
Wishbone scurries backward, out of the water, before her brother might lash out with any retaliation, and pauses with her lithe body half-turned, a smile on her mouth. “Annoying you, even for a little bit,” she banters in response to his question. The girl tosses her tangled dark forelock out of her face before stepping closer again, amber eyes beginning to sober with seriousness.
“But other than that, Queen Hestia is dead. Scorch is the queen of Nerine now, but she’s named me heiress.” They are heavy words, so soon after their sibling bantering, but Wishbone is certain Svedka can handle them. The mahogany girl moves herself closer to her brother now, lipping at his shoulder as she does so. “Do you think I’ll be a good queen, when the time comes?” His opinion is worth just as much to her as the Nerinians, as Scorch’s, as their father’s, as her mother’s, as Solace’s and so she holds her breath in tender anticipation.
@[Svedka]