03-13-2017, 03:47 PM
Stillwater
The dragon didn't need to call out; he could sense him, smell him. He knew him, and that was enough to coax him from his deep little loch. The pet king slid from within the trees and into view, his black coat dark and damp, and hair dripping in twisted tendrils. He stopped still, their eyes met, and the predator-gray of his pushed forward in primal greeting to the powerful dragon in the other. An undulating rattle forced its way out of his throat, then settled back into himself, gaze clearing again to the natural blue-gray of melded spirits. Cousin.
He smiled slowly, intrigued by that new response, looking curiously over the physical changes in this man he'd known in passing as, for a time, they frequented the same pitiful caves of the meadow. You are reborn, he commented with almost a taste of pride in it, pleased at what he was seeing in the stranger that had not been much of a stranger, even then. He knew he'd liked this guy. His eyes were bright with interest as he studied him silently for a moment.
Stillwater knew he was unnaturally attractive, even to other men, even to straight men, but he wasn't trying to be as he stepped forward to slowly circle him. It was simply the manner of the beast to be a captivating lure to those who set eyes on him. His nose brushed appreciatively along those strong, leathery wings, testing the feel of them. He'd always hated birds, disgusting creatures. But this, he liked. This was definitely nice.
He rounded to his other side and halted at his shoulder, breathing him in and tasting Nerine. Home. Or, it had been once. His heart sank a little in his chest, his expression falling with it, remembering how he'd been there as the panther-child rounded up her followers to claim it, watched as she rose as a queen, then fell to Nayl's victory. He shook his head silently, but froze again at another scent. His nostrils flared and his muzzle buried into dark and chaotic hair. Nayl.. he breathed. Far too strong and knit tightly into the man to be only in passing.
Far too strong.
He glided forward to turn and face him again, his expression and eyes unreadable, and that slow smile returning to his face. She is well, then? he asked evenly. He never inquired after the coastal queen when Djinni visited, and she never mentioned her. They both were, perhaps, content not to bring up something that never came to pass, that never happened. It didn't mean he didn't wonder, didn't think back. He just never asked.
I'm Stillwater, he added, supposing it was well overdue that they knew each other's names.
He smiled slowly, intrigued by that new response, looking curiously over the physical changes in this man he'd known in passing as, for a time, they frequented the same pitiful caves of the meadow. You are reborn, he commented with almost a taste of pride in it, pleased at what he was seeing in the stranger that had not been much of a stranger, even then. He knew he'd liked this guy. His eyes were bright with interest as he studied him silently for a moment.
Stillwater knew he was unnaturally attractive, even to other men, even to straight men, but he wasn't trying to be as he stepped forward to slowly circle him. It was simply the manner of the beast to be a captivating lure to those who set eyes on him. His nose brushed appreciatively along those strong, leathery wings, testing the feel of them. He'd always hated birds, disgusting creatures. But this, he liked. This was definitely nice.
He rounded to his other side and halted at his shoulder, breathing him in and tasting Nerine. Home. Or, it had been once. His heart sank a little in his chest, his expression falling with it, remembering how he'd been there as the panther-child rounded up her followers to claim it, watched as she rose as a queen, then fell to Nayl's victory. He shook his head silently, but froze again at another scent. His nostrils flared and his muzzle buried into dark and chaotic hair. Nayl.. he breathed. Far too strong and knit tightly into the man to be only in passing.
Far too strong.
He glided forward to turn and face him again, his expression and eyes unreadable, and that slow smile returning to his face. She is well, then? he asked evenly. He never inquired after the coastal queen when Djinni visited, and she never mentioned her. They both were, perhaps, content not to bring up something that never came to pass, that never happened. It didn't mean he didn't wonder, didn't think back. He just never asked.
I'm Stillwater, he added, supposing it was well overdue that they knew each other's names.
go down with me, fall with me, lets make it worth it