Bloodfeather || Adna ||

[adna]

one touch will make you so nervous you might stop breathing
one touch will make you so reckless you might start feeling
one touch will finally show to me what you can't hide

She remembers him as she remembers all figures from her youth.

The blurry outlines and the hazy shadowy faces of them. She remembers the vague colors of him, the idea of him really, and she finds that it barely snaps into place when he makes his way toward her. She is standing in the forest, as she so often is, feeling the peace that comes with the shadows when they make their way around her. Finding the peace that comes from being alone—from finally being in the quiet.

He comes quickly but she doesn’t startle.

She tenses, perhaps, but it is low and steady, her nostrils flaring, her jaw unclicking, her vision switching to thermal. It makes her face a little colder, a little more predatory in the angles, and she is slow to smile, her lips spreading in the corners, her fangs just barely hinted at behind velvet lips.

But he uses her parents’ names and she finds that it both soothes and riles her.

Her jaw clicks together again as she clenches it, the muscles rippling underneath the scaled surface. “I think adult children should strike out on their own eventually, should they not?” Her voice is even and calm, despite the tension she might feel underneath—but she has no desire to delve into personal manners with a stallion that she barely knows. She has no desire to dive into it with anyone at all.

So perhaps she feels a little surly, a little bitter, but she just keeps it at that.

Purposefully, she shakes her mane out, letting the curls of it fall down either side of her neck and then stretches slightly, enjoying the way the tension eases slightly. Then she settles back down again.

Her smile calm, her gaze just a little calculated.

ADNA