The inner turmoil of the stallion shown and dipped rapidly beneath the waves of his features. Her own dark hair comes across to lick against the curve of her cheek, the caress of her brow. She can not read him for there was no such magic hibernating within.
October had kept her away, stolen from the fright of waging wars and blood alliances. The woman had done her best to raise the rebellious child but to only loosen her embrace when Oak took it upon herself to break the chains around her heels and to see the land that she was still such a stranger to.
Years had passed as she had made her home under the wink of starlight, nested upon sweet grasses with a full belly and wanderlust pumping through her veins. Oak settled for nothing. It seemed like horses came and went but none fulfilled the craving she felt. It seemed like the desire to connect, meld, was all but lost. But now, as the shame amber eyes of October's burns from beneath long dark lashes, she watches with the wisp of a curious smirk curling the very edge of her lips.
The stallion is moving, creating space as the red clay clouds and speckles their limbs but she pays it no mind. What had driven her to reach out and speak to the man? Who tugged the puppet strings in her mind ever so gingerly? "I'm Oakheart-"
The annunciation of her name, weighted but clean, like antique lead crystal. "Beautiful evening for a walk." Oak notices the growing shadows at their feet, the nip of chilled air whispering against the skin of her neck. Something gnaws at her as she can not pin point her interested in the cider tinted male. Her observation is none too clever but it was a start of a possible conversation. The feathering smirk of her lips broadens slightly to warm her features, lobes moving to listen for a reply- if any.
October had kept her away, stolen from the fright of waging wars and blood alliances. The woman had done her best to raise the rebellious child but to only loosen her embrace when Oak took it upon herself to break the chains around her heels and to see the land that she was still such a stranger to.
Years had passed as she had made her home under the wink of starlight, nested upon sweet grasses with a full belly and wanderlust pumping through her veins. Oak settled for nothing. It seemed like horses came and went but none fulfilled the craving she felt. It seemed like the desire to connect, meld, was all but lost. But now, as the shame amber eyes of October's burns from beneath long dark lashes, she watches with the wisp of a curious smirk curling the very edge of her lips.
The stallion is moving, creating space as the red clay clouds and speckles their limbs but she pays it no mind. What had driven her to reach out and speak to the man? Who tugged the puppet strings in her mind ever so gingerly? "I'm Oakheart-"
The annunciation of her name, weighted but clean, like antique lead crystal. "Beautiful evening for a walk." Oak notices the growing shadows at their feet, the nip of chilled air whispering against the skin of her neck. Something gnaws at her as she can not pin point her interested in the cider tinted male. Her observation is none too clever but it was a start of a possible conversation. The feathering smirk of her lips broadens slightly to warm her features, lobes moving to listen for a reply- if any.
Oakheart
Manhattan x October
slow start but i'm enjoying this. it will be pretty fun to see how this all goes
