"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
05-10-2017, 05:21 PM (This post was last modified: 05-10-2017, 05:58 PM by Warrick.)
It was near sunset, where the sun still hung wearily in the sky yet pricks of indigo were beginning to emerge. Dusk was nearly at its end. Beneath the golden light he stood, stoic and ever enduring, the hardened lines on his face growing dark as the sun’s rays play shadows across his auburn and navy body. He was standing near the golden shoreline, frothing water rising to meet his hooves then falling back, then coming to meet him again. The constant rhythm soothes him. It was this time of night where he truly came alive; where the sun’s rays begin to kiss the horizon and stars begin to brighten with clarity as the light of day retreats, leaving them to shine boldly. He welcomes the sun’s dying light happily, thankful for the coolness that night would soon bring. Though Beqanna lies under boughs of snow and ice, Tephra is left untouched: salty, sultry air presses against his skin, warm currents of air from the ocean bringing in the everlasting heat.
The night begins to whisper to him, a soft, clear voice that only he recognized; a voice so gentle, but yet seems to come from everywhere, even in the rustling of the tropical trees around him. The salty breeze brushes against him, twisting and curling the dark tendrils of his mane and tail carelessly on its fingers. In the distance, the volcano looms like a slumbering giant, groaning with life as smoke billows from the top, the bold gray melting into the red, oranges, and pinks of the clouds. He watches the volcano thoughtfully, his mind drifting.
They had slept under the stars. It was lovely, calm, and bright. He had told her the constellations in which they slept under, reciting stories of the stars and their adventures they represent. Sleep was a rare delicacy to him and when it was found, it wasn’t truly sleep. He cannot quite remember (for it had been awhile), but he thinks he slept peacefully that night. His thoughts run to her, the golden buckskin overo, who made him forget his chains momentarily and freed him in their spritely dance beneath the moon and stars. His brilliant blue eyes flick upwards towards the sky, watching as stars begin to peer from behind the sunset colored clouds. The familiar stab of sadness cuts through him as he searches for the beginnings of the constellations he knew so well.
He was not one to worry about others, for he would not want anyone to worry about him. Warrick cannot help the feeling of disappointment that presses fiercely against his ribcage. Perhaps she had left Tephra earlier than she had originally planned, found the Lake, and decided to stay there. The stallion huffs quietly, blue nostrils flaring. If that was the case, he did not mind. However, the stallion would find it disheartening if she had not thought to say goodbye to him.
Just as these thoughts cross his mind, painting sadness across the lines of his face and darkening his eyes solemnly, the sounds around the shoreline change slightly. The rhythm of the waves stay the same, as well as the sporadic call of the gulls that flew lazily above him on the ocean’s strong breeze. A navy-tipped ear flicks towards the sound of hoof beats on wet, dense sand. His gaze turns and his brilliant blue eyes light up happily, a gentle nicker leaving his cobalt lips.
“Tang!” he exclaims joyfully, tossing his head as her name left his lips.
Earlier, Tangerine had reached the borders of Tephra as dawn broke. The stately volcano marked the end of her travels - for the time being. Now, returned to his home, Warrick was in her thoughts as she wandered threw the lush landscape. Tang smiled to herself as the conversations of her first night here replayed fondly in her mind. She had listened intently to every word he spoke, learning about the stars and their stories, asking questions and comparing them to the stories she had learned. She had contributed a few of her own too - pointed out the constellations whos lore seemed to be unique to her homeland. He voice laced with affection, she had told him a little about her family and their nomadic ways on The Great Plains. And even felt a twinge of longing when speaking of her mother, a well known and sought after storyteller.
In front of her the volcano was grand and imposing, but she found that during her time in this tropical habitat the ocean had been the one who called to her. The living force of it, the constant inhale and exhale rhythm of its waves, always reaching, captured her imagination. One look at it's restless surface and she couldn't help but wonder what lay at the bottom, or if there even was an end. With her back to the volcano she took her time reaching the sea. Indulging in reflection.
Finally she had reached the shore, and after bathing she discovered a coconut grove by the sea to rest in. Sleep rarely evaded her when she called for it, and she had no trouble passing the day drifting in and out of dreams, only stirring mid day to graze.
But now it was evening. The stagnant heat of the day was lifting, an almost cool breeze filling in the emptiness left behind. The palm boughs above her begin to whisper, and the night creatures test their voices, preparing for the evening's symphony. Tang's eyes flutter open. The first thought on her mind, Is that she should like to see her friend Warrick.
With a shake of her coat and she sets off down the beach. It is too beautiful a sunset to be slept threw.
She spots him, straddling two worlds - the froth is around his feet and his eyes are turned to the sky. She pauses in her approach to simply enjoy the picture he makes. Tangerine had traveled to both the hills and the lake during the time they spent apart. She had meet others, seen new lands, but the sight of him still made her heart sing. The brilliant colors of the dying sun reflect from the auburn portions of his body, giving the illusion of luminescence. His blue legs create a seamless transition between the heavens and the sea.
But soon her own legs are carrying her to him - the first to welcome her to this land of magic.
As she approaches she reaches her muzzle to his in greeting. The soft contact is comforting and she drinks his scent heartily
"Why, hello dreamer." she says playfully, the serene happiness of their night spent under the stars coming back to her. Briefly she relays the events of 'the week of games' in The Hills and describes the peaceful landscape there and the kind woman, AuroraElis, who had befriended her. "Have you ever been to the hills?" for reasons she cant quite pin down she doesn't mention her accidental visit to The Lake or her encounter with Amet, the dragon scaled stallion.
She realizes in her excitement she has been talking too much. Despite their beautiful surroundings her whole attention is focused on Warrick, warm amber eyes hold him close. "But, how have you been? Tell me all about it." she says sincerely.
He remembers their conversation beneath the stars, how she had opened up to him about her family and how she was raised. When he sees her, his chest tightens. He wonders now if he should have been honest with her, told her about his not too distant past and how it is still affecting him every day. She knows a side of Warrick – the side that he truly is, the side that he wants to be. But there is another side…less happy, less glowing. She hasn’t seen him on his bad days and he wonders to himself if that day would ever come, and how she would react. Warrick snorts softly. Part of him wanted to share his story with her (the bad parts included) but he could not stand to let her down.
Her voice is angelic against the dark, rough waters that scrape brutishly against the shoreline that appears gold beneath the sunset’s brilliant glow. The air of winter that touches everywhere else had brought heavy wind into Tephra, yet were clear and crisp once their currents touch its shores. Warrick cannot hide his happiness when he sees her; his eyes sparkle with knowing. Of course she would return to him. How silly of him to doubt the golden mare. Tang lets her muzzle linger on his own and he inhales deeply, attempting to sort through the many scents on her skin that she brought with her. He snorts softly, a smile on his cobalt lips as he brushes her forelock away from her face gently. “It’s so good to see you,” he murmurs quietly, his eyes tracing her lithe body for signs of trauma or bruising. There was none, of course, but he could not help the urge to check over her – just in case.
The Hills. Her question makes him tilt his head and he does his best to hide the slight hesitancy that falters across his face. He is still smiling, but the idea of her having gone somewhere foreign to her (and himself) on her own sets a sort of frown in his eyes. Ever the protector, he lets the thoughts slide easily from his mind (for she had returned to him safe and sound) and continues to idly play with the salted tendrils of her pale mane with his navy lips. “I haven’t,” he admits, his own forelock now cascading over his face as the wind picks up even more. “How was it? What’s it like there?” He asks sincerely, knowing that she would be able to tell him of her travels and adventures in such a way that would leave him wanting more.
She asks him how he’s doing and Warrick pulls away from her, drawing his head back and tightening his neck as he curves his chin to his chest. “I’m well, Tang.” The water now plays at their ankles, swirling and sucking the sand from beneath their weight as the tide changes. “It’s been dreadfully boring here with your absence.”
"It’s so good to see you,” he murmurs quietly, and the softness of his voice makes her lean into him. The serenity of his words touches her more than excitement would have. But there is a flicker of discontent in his eyes and she notes it, but for now, she chooses to ignore it. She is just happy to be standing here, on the edge of the known world, with her friend. He is a mystery to be solved - his meaningful looks and deep eyes.
He asks more about her journey and she happily settles into the rhythmic low voice of a teller of tales, his gentle touches to her mane lulling her into relaxation.
"The hills were a lovely place." she sighs "There were springs in the valleys, some with water so clean and fresh I thought I was drinking from a cloud! Others were salty and deep, with little fish swimming in them, always on the move in their small worlds. And right in the middle of the territory, like an eye, is a lake. And all the hills rise from it. It is a peaceful place the air there was cool and clean." A pause "I also passed threw the forest." Her eyes lift to his for a moment, reading. " I've never seen a place so secretive. The trees seemed to watch me as I passed threw, it was quite the opposite of the Hills. I never knew what or who would be around the next bend. The nettles were so think on the ground in places I seemed to be sprung up with every stride! I smelt others now and then, but I tried to stay as quiet as possible while still moving quickly. I didn't want to meet anything unknown in the gloom there. And normally I am always glad to make a stranger a friend! But the place was dark, darker than the night should be." Another pause, as she pictures the place so vividly. "But here I have made it sound so dismal! Despite all of that, it was still enchanting in its own way." thinking of the foreboding forest with interest she let the sound out the wind and the wave linger between them.
Momentarily her heart sinks as he pulls away from her, but the look on his face quickly heals her disappointment and a smile break out across her feminine features. "It's been dreadfully boring here with your absence" she gives him a playful nip on the neck, satisfied with his answer even if it doesn't give her much information. Her lips linger, to groom his shoulders. Her mouth filling with salt. The warm contentment she feels by is side is becoming a familiar and welcomed feeling.
Before them the sun sets and her ambitions rise. Their second sunset together.
The painted mare stands next to him, against him, leaning her lesser weight into his supportive side. His flanks, hardened by his journeys, do not give when she leans her hips against him. She is glad she found him here. She is glad they are alone. There is more she wants to talk to him about - so much more. But tonight, as they once again find themselves alone, wrapped together in twilight she is drunk off the fat of the moon- rising full, golden and fertile above the watery horizon.
She wants to ask, but doesn't know how. She hopes the silence and the burning in her touch is enough to let him know how she feels. In her belly was something akin to sickness, but unlike sickness she wished the feeling would never leave her. Tang reaches her mouth to the soft place where his jaw meet his throat and tasted the spices there. She tries to pull away, but her greedy mouth is seeking more.
Consequences didn't cross her mind. Her ideals were still those of her homeland and she didn't stop to consider if things may be different here. The traveling horses of her home did not regard love, sex, as a guarded resource. Her many half brothers and sisters are testament to that. Love was something you could give without losing anything yourself. A flame doesn't burn any less brilliantly if it lights another.
If Warrick pulled back, she would stay where she was and respect the distance. Her anticipation was building, as her lips reached the base of his ear... but if this wasn't what he wanted she would would feel no shame in her forwardness with him. Her feelings ruled her and she felt the fraud when she hid them.
She wishes that he had told her more. He can see it on soft angles of her face as they fall momentarily, disappointed that his words lacked intimacy. The shadow that lingers over the bay stallion was his and his alone – he would not allow himself to place such affliction on her. He would not burden her. She ignores the tension that flickers over his features and he is thankful that she does (at least for the time being). He is weary, but her presence gave him new strength. Her voice fills him with gladness, closing the crystal blue of his eyes to listen to her tale. She weaves him a story, painting vivid pictures in his mind. He sighs contentedly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his cobalt lips as they fall to rest on her neck, pressing gently against her gold and white skin. He wishes he had been there with her, splashing through the waters and being her guide through the dark of the forest.
“You truly have a traveler’s heart,” he says to her as she finishes telling him her adventures, his voice deep and grumbling as the waves against the shore.
Soon, the sun is below the horizon. It happens quickly, much more quickly than it would have if Warrick had been alone tonight. The night air on the beach was humid and damp, heavy with salt and moisture. The softness of her hips and shoulders fall into the hardened places of his own, and he allows it. He welcomes it, actually. In response he instinctively leans into her, supporting the weight of her body against him. He turns when she touches his muzzle, sweet and delicate touches on the darkness of his skin with her pale lips. Drawn to her youth and infectious personality, the stallion does not tell her to stop and nor does he move away from her. “Tang,” he murmurs to her, his voice raspy and nearly breathless, like the sea wind had taken all of his oxygen from him. He turns to her and gently traces the shadow of her cheek with his cobalt lips, following where the moon’s light illuminated the delicate hollows of her face as her young, wide eyes watch him.
Warrick closes his eyes momentarily, pressing the dark of his lips into her warm, supple skin of her neck, wandering carelessly against the alternating patterns golden and white. He pauses, lingering just millimeters away from her, his breath warm and wet as he exhales.
He is stuck. He is caught in a whirlwind – too vulnerable for some, yet too broken for others. His eyes remain closed, and his mouth follows suit, almost pained. He presses his forehead against her neck, inhaling the scent of her deeply. He clenches his teeth, the muscles in his jaw tensing. The cold night air is frigid against his skin, even though the temperatures were warm in Tephra tonight. She longs for him, and he longs for her – longs for a bond, faithfulness, and loyalty. But can he return those qualities? Is he still capable of being that horse? The one he was before his family left him behind?
“I can’t,” he tells her with a shuddered breath, though doesn’t specify. He does not draw away from her and continues to press his forehead against her, the pale and golden hairs of her mane mingling with the darkness of his own.
05-17-2017, 09:36 AM (This post was last modified: 05-17-2017, 09:37 AM by Tangerine.)
tangerine
face to the sun
"Tang" He speaks her name and it is raspy and breathless. There is a strain in his tone that sets her on edge. But again, for a final time, she chooses to ignore the omen. She savors his gentle touchs and sends other thoughts out to sea with a sigh. His caress have her floating.
Then the dark stallion clenches his jaw and she braces he legs against the tides, coming back to earth. Tension and resistance are radiating from him, she knows something is not right. It's too much to ignore now. Her kisses stop and she pulls her face away from his so she can see him better. Her amber eyes are soft and searching, looking for an answer.
"I can't." Two words. Even without explanation it is obvious what he means.
She feels a sting in her breast, a small lump of shame in her throat. Even though she promised herself she wouldn't regret anything tonight... no matter how it played out.
But she swallows hard and pushes down the emotions she wont let herself feel, she knows this isn't about her. She wont make it about her.
He doesn't pull away from her, quite the opposite, he leans his brow heavily into her neck. She is glad for that at least. Tang takes comfort in this small weight he allows her to carry. He still needed her. Or at least that's what she tells herself. At least he didn't leave her standing there along, like the silly girl who asked for too much. Where so much sensation had been moments before she feels dull.
It hadn't been right for her to try and take from him.
But how was she to know how broken he really was? His forehead is buried in her mane and for the first time she is glad his gaze is hidden from her - giving her a reprieve to sort out the roiling feelings in her chest. Her eyes mist slightly loosing focus as she vaguely watches the golden moon continue her ascent.
Confusion tumbled in her mind grasping at any thought of their encounter it could get ahold of. But her compassion greatly outweighs her frustration, she knew how to be the comforter, she had always been the peacemaker.
If he will let her she guides them to a place up the beach where the sand is dry and soft. The heat and restlessness in her belly has fled and she feels level like her normal self. She stills sees him as beautiful, desirable, but not in the same way at this moment. Her heart has shifted, and now it's hurting. Hurting for him, not for herself.
His weight is still pressed into her and she gently guides both their bodies to the warm sand. (If he resists she remains standing beside him). Like a mother with a foal she grooms his shoulder and diligently removes sand from his coat. She searches for the right words, not wanting to push him but wanting to tell him she cares. Carefully, nurturingly she kisses each of his eyes. She has done enough expressing herself for the time being she decides. She will just be with him now, hopefully he knows himself well enough to tell her what he need.
He realizes a moment too late that he has perhaps hurt her with his confession and its lack of explanation. He confuses her, he knows: confused by his hot and cold disposition, the warm fleeting touches of his ravenous lips against her skin, burning and damp, yet hesitant – and then his words laced with doubt and unfamiliarity. He cannot understand the emotions he is feeling. His fondness for her twists up inside him in an attempt to fill his chest, yet instead finds the grief that normally resides there – warping what should be an affectionate, loving feeling (and leading to what they both profoundly craved) into something perplexing to him that was also somehow sinister. Would he dampen her brightness? Would he stifle her raw beauty and charisma with his greedy touches, consume her innocent smile, and replace it with the thin line of a frown that had become his own?
It was too much. There was so much she didn’t know about him, so much that she didn’t understand yet. There was a dark piece of his past that he had been able to hide selfishly and disguise from her so that she would not be able to see the deepest, blackest depths of him. He felt inadequate to her, paling in comparison to the joy and love that she so willingly offers him. He cannot accept her advances, yet at the same time cannot tear himself away from her. He refuses to push her away, but too close and she might break.
She leads him and he follows willingly. Much like their first day in Tephra together, she sets the pace. It is much different this time, though. As they walk, his legs felt heavy as his hooves drag through the soft sand. Tired…so tired. He knows he is ruining the moment – the luster that once held their gaze is replaced with solemnity. Her demeanor has changed and it worries him that she has to adjust to him. She is so kind, so gentle…so understanding though she really didn’t understand at all. It pains him, makes him feel guilty.
His knees buckle and he allows himself to fall into the ground, a heavy sigh leaving him as his body meets the coolness of the silvery sand, illuminated with the moon’s glow. She is patient with him, leisurely grooming him as she simply waits, not pressing him to explain. She carefully presses her lips to his closed eyes, comforting and soothing him in the only way she knew how. Again, he finds himself searching her skin with his velvety lips as if the patterns of her body would hold some kind of answer for him, tracing the delicate curves of her cheek absentmindedly.
After a few moments of silence that is only interrupted by the sound of waves raking against the distant shoreline he finally speaks, finishing the sentence he had begun when they were standing in the tide. His voice is quieter now, feeble as it leaves his lips and muffled against the gold of her skin. “I can’t…I can’t ask you to give me yourself when you do not know me as well as you should. It would be selfish of me.” His voice is still burning against her skin. He cannot veil it from her anymore if he wishes to be close to her. He wants her to return to him next winter...
“There is a legend in my family. The stars look down on us, our ancestors of old, to guide us on our journey as we live beneath them. We reconnect with the stars and our families when we die. Sometimes, though, a horse of our lineage who is pure of heart and untainted by the cruel injustices that inhabit the world, the stars will scoop them up and let them join in the heavens with them. A year ago, I was on the mountain when magic was stripped from Beqanna and its inhabitants. I was with my family. My mother and my twin sister, the only two I knew in Beqanna at the time.” He stops, feeling his voice quaking and his throat closing up as the grief in his heart looms forward, anxious to be released. He lets out a shuddering breath, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as the memories flood him. “One moment they were with me. Living and breathing, safe by my side - and in the next, vanished. Gone, like mist when the sun rises. They left no trace, save for the pieces of stardust that they left in their wake.” He pauses, his voice heavy and weary from just the few moments of explaining. He can feel the familiar prick of hot tears behind his eyes, but his auburn lids close tightly to keep them from falling.
The abandonment, the grief of sudden loss, still hangs heavy on his face. It still stings him as if it had happened yesterday. “I don’t know why I wasn’t able to go with them. I can’t figure out why. What did the stars see in me that wasn’t worthy?” Was there something in him that he didn’t see yet, that the galaxies and nebulae already could? Was there a darkness in him that left him to wander Earth alone, unable to reunite with his family…a darkness he could not escape?
“Sometimes, it is too much to bear. I enjoy my life. I love Tephra. But some days, the reality of my being left behind makes it so I cannot move, cannot think, cannot breathe. I didn't even get to say goodbye.”
05-18-2017, 02:05 PM (This post was last modified: 05-18-2017, 02:08 PM by Tangerine.)
tangerine
face to the sun
She is laying close to him showing him she cares in the only way she knows how, her pale muzzle tending to him. He seems to be comparatively relaxed, the tension that had seized his body is gone. But the silence remains unbroken. At first, she is content with their current situation, quiet and solemn as it is. But inevitably her thoughts wander.
Maybe he has a lover… or a Mate - not realizing the wrongness of their situation until they were at the brink of becoming more. She knew some chose to be monogamous in honor of their partner. Maybe he was celibate, or had other preferences. Just because he doesn’t want you doesn’t mean, he doesn’t like mares. That had been narcissistic. But his touch had told her he wanted more. There had to be some explanation.
Images of a lovely pure white mare with vast glowing Pegasus wings glides before her mind’s eye. Maybe his beautiful mate is on her way here to confront Tang – dripping wet, sandy, little mess that she is. She would be properly chided. She could be a Queen for all Tang knew.
Her thoughts were running away with her and she knew it. She had always had a flair for the dramatic.
He shifts, seeming to awaken, and once again his lips trace patterns on her skin. Her gaze falls from the moon into ocean. She doesn’t look at him yet, still unsure of what she will find there in his face. It would crush her to see contempt.
Bracing herself for a lecture- he begins to speak and she dreads his words. His voice is muffled and his touch tantalizing as he speaks into her neck. In a hurtful contrast the words he says are the opposite of what his body language is telling her. He pushes her away and pulls her in like a rip tide in the ocean. Suddenly, Tang begins to grow angry, she is tempted to get up and leave him there. Break the enchantment. He can talk to her when he has made up his mind. I can’t or I can. Either way is fine, but none of this agonizing teasing. She will gladly be his platonic friend, but she won’t be played with, and she has a mind to tell him.
There is a side to her he hasn’t seen yet. She is a passionflower, and she could burn just as brightly in anger as she did in joy. She had only been provoked a few times in her life into that state, but it was there. That was a story she would tell him someday.
Now it is her turn to listen as he spins a tale of family, love, and loss. “There is a legend in my family...” he begins. And like a spell, all thoughts of leaving, telling him to come talk to her in the morning, vanish. He pauses in his telling, the raw emotion in his voice causing her stomach to clench and her to forget any irritable feeling she may have had.
“…They left no trace, save for the pieces of stardust that they left in their wake.” A tidal wave of emotion washes, crashes, over her - violently sweeping away everything that has happened up until this moment.
He lost his family.
Before she can begin to react, he continues. Now that he has begun the painful words seem to flow from him. He questions why he too was not able to ascend to the stars and her heart breaks for him.
“Sometimes it is too much to bear…” her head stretches up and she uses her chin to pull his head down into her neck and chest. She holds him against herself. “…I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
A tear glides down her cheek and another quivers in her eye, but she doesn’t notice. She is only thinking of him. “Warrick,” she says quietly. There are no right word for such a situation. “The only thing I can say is, I am so… so sorry for you… your heartbreaking loss.” She knows those words are not enough. But she hopes the fervor in her voice makes up some of the difference. She momentarily thinks of her family, the family she voluntarily left, and knows there is no way for her to truly understand what he has experienced. She releases his head and brings her own face level with his closing her eyes as she takes a deep breath.
For his sake, she wishes the beautiful white mare, her minds idea of his mate, would show up and run her off. Take her wayward man under her wing and he would stray no more. It would be so much easier. That was such a simple problem.
But the tragedy is that this is his reality. She hadn’t known him at all.
She grasps for the one, tiny, glimmer of promise she can see in the dark. Maybe it isn’t the right time for optimism, but the words form in the air between them before they run threw her mind... because she believes in the so wholly.
”I think you were chosen too. I think you were chosen to stay… because you are strong, and good, and if they took all the honorable horses this world would not be worth keeping around.” Her voice grows less passionate and more solemn as her mind catches up with her mouth, and she realizes the implications of what she is about to say. “And I think they will take you too... one day.” In theory, this should be a happy thought, but it puts an ache in her chest.
Subconsciously she pushes her body closer to his, as if to make sure there is more than stardust beside here.
05-20-2017, 01:59 PM (This post was last modified: 05-20-2017, 01:59 PM by Warrick.)
There was so much happening in his mind yet there is nothingness; a soft, velvety blanket of nothingness that cloaks his soul and keeps him from allowing new relationships and love to enter. He knows that she looks to him as a shining light, with no imperfections and flawless. He could not let her keep believing this lie that he had fed her the first few days that they had spent in Tephra – that he was happy, unburdened and free. Tang needed to know (and understand) the chain that he has been dragging around for over a year that never seems to lighten its weight; if anything, it seems to get heavier and heavier with the passing time. Even as the words spill off of his tongue fluidly, the dense tightness in his chest did not dissipate. He sighs against the warmth of her golden and cream skin, his breath hot as it releases from his cobalt lips in a shudder.
Then, he hears her voice.
Again, she comes to him like she always will, like a light in the darkness. She says his name, so sweetly and so softly. He lifts his eyes to her, their brilliant cerulean color glassy with unshed tears of grief and fear. When he looks into her face, the softness of her cheeks and the large, wide sadness of her eyes, he is overcome by guilt. Who was he to throw such tragedy at her feet, to ask her to comfort him when she deserves more than sad stories and a broken heart?
Warrick has been selfish. Of course, it would have been impossible to build the relationship he so desperately craved with her if he had not been completely honest, but there was part of him that chided him for resting all of the darkness of his soul onto her. He squeezes his eyes shut with a quivering and sharp inhale, forcing the wetness of his eyes to cease and swallowing hard the lump in his throat. He pushes it away, the ebbing darkness that picks at him incessantly. It is something that he is used to doing, and today was no different. Perhaps with her knowing and understanding him a little bit more, he could eventually put that darkness to rest. For now, it will remain dormant inside him, twisting and throbbing like a painful blister. Maybe she will be there for him if it became too much – he hopes she will be.
Her voice is confident and sure. She does not question his family’s lore and instead, willingly dives in. She speaks to him in a way he would understand, bringing herself closer to him by doing so. He then hears a slight ache in her voice. His navy-tipped ears prick and he quickly opens his eyes, noting the way she moves closer to him even though any space between them was nonexistent.
He lifts his head, draping his neck around her and pulling her head to his chest in a strong embrace. Part of him hopes that she cannot hear the wild thrumming of his heart against his chest, gradually speeding up as the warmth of her skin presses against him. He smiles gently, and though she could not see it, he is sure he can hear it in his voice. “I believe the stars would find you worthy, Tang.” His voice is still tight with an edge of sadness, but it was clear and solid.
“Enough,” he says suddenly and decisively, not wanting to waste any more of his time with Tang talking about his past. He hesitates briefly before breaking away from her, brushing his velvety nose against hers for a moment then pressing his the blue of his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. As he begins to stand up, the night’s moon still basking the sand with a luminous silver glow, he says: “You’ll be surprised to know that you have not explored all of Tephra just yet.” He shakes himself, sand and dust billowing around him in the moonlight. He waits for her to stand before reaching forward and running his lips across where her neck and mane meet, her tri-colored hairs spilling onto the darkness of his coat.
With a sharp snort he brings his chin to his chest and trots past her, leading her towards the volcano.
05-20-2017, 08:26 PM (This post was last modified: 05-21-2017, 08:55 AM by Tangerine.)
tangerine
face to the sun
He pulls her close, and she willingly lays her cheek to his chest, the nearness of his pulse quickening her own again. The intimacy of the embrace has her leaning into him, and ironically it almost feels like he is comforting her. His voice rumbles and she feels it deep at the source, before she hears it.
"Enough." He says strong and decisive, ending the conversation. How much time has passed? Not long, but much has changed between them. She is glad he told her, a burden like that, it wasn't meant to be carried alone. But Tang is also partly relieved the topic is passed, she feels inadequate in such a shadow. Maybe she wasn't enough for him, maybe no one was.
And just as as the thought is going threw her mind there are his lips, pressed to hers just long enough to steal the breath from her lungs. Just as quickly the gentle touch is gone, but his taste lingers. She opens her eyes, not realizing she had ever closed them. Oh, Warrick. You are going to make leaving hard on me. His face is still near hers.
“You’ll be surprised to know that you have not explored all of Tephra just yet."
Naturally her curiosity peaks and as he stands and shakes she does the same, a lingering tension falling from her coat with the sand and tiny seashells. Once again she feels his touch on the crest of her neck and she playfully shakes her mane from side to side. He tucks his chin his neck forming a graceful arch and a smile breaks across her face.
Gladly she follows as he takes them up the coast and back into the lush greenery of Tephra. Her gaze floats to the stars as she trails him, she notices they have shifted. They whisper of approaching spring. But her own travels can't hold her thoughts, and the idea of a filly and mare galloping together across the stars is what keeps coming back to her. It's a poetic idea, not death - no carcass left behind, just stardust and an empty heart of a loving son and brother. Where they really gone? Were they really a part of the heavens now? Or were they just transported buy one of the fairies he had spoken of to another territory, still flesh and bones? These were probably things he pondered too. But that wound had been bled enough for one night, she wasn't about to ask.
In front of he he continues to lead them. She watches the muscles of his legs flex and the flashes of blue as his hooves strike the soft earth. She lengthens her stride to pull up beside him, flashing him a smile, glade to be moving again.
"What in Tephra have I not seen yet, Warrick." She says loudly over the thunder of their hooves. Maybe the volcano had told him her name.
