resurrect the saint within the wretch
Nonsense it may be, but from her lips he can only find that he clings to each word like it is truth, allowing his heart to wrap around the idea of a sentient star coming down from the cosmos to waft between them, to orchestrate their meeting once again. It’s a hopeful feeling, one that he knows is fleeting and only felt so strongly within her presence, but a feeling he enjoys nonetheless.
Flower fits perfectly into the crook of his neck and his chest, resting against him in such a way that Warden feels as though he is perhaps stronger than he truly is. There is nearly a hum of satisfaction in his throat, brimming and threatening to spill and make her aware of the true contentment she gives him. But instead swallows it, afraid of the unfamiliar feeling, and meets her golden gaze with a deep navy of his own. Her slender face is alight in the silver glow, split beautifully into all sorts of fractiles of light and ruby glass. Warden’s pale lips press together thoughtfully and without hesitation, his own muzzle gently traces the fiery color of her cheek and feeling the familiar chill from her glass skin.
“She’ll have to get over it,” he murmurs, his warm breath fogging the crystal of her ruby skin. His eyes glance upwards once more but never once does he allow Flower any room to shy away from him, firmly keeping his embrace around her. “I have more important things to tend to,” he admits this hastily, his blue eyes flickering back towards Flower, refocusing his attention on her when her muzzle nudges the deep auburn of his shoulder.
Maybe not alive anymore, and not like us. But of us.
The horned pegasus snorts gently, huffing somewhat bitterly; only because there is a half of him that agrees with Flower’s interpretation of their companion. The notion is familiar, easily something that could have come from his own father’s mouth, but sounds all the more enchanting and real coming from hers. Warden’s voice becomes tender, thoughtful and pensive as he asks:
“Why do you think she’s come to me - why now?”
He draws close to her, almost as if the light of the silver star is too much to bask in
@[flower]
