12-09-2017, 10:31 AM
the night is my companion, and solitude my guide.
She follows him with timidity and delicateness all her own, picking her way carefully through the forest as they begin to take their leave. She may have been frightened leaving the forest, but with the strong and beautiful stallion beside her, she does not have room for fear. She has traveled to different places before, but she realizes that with Ivar, the traveling was much more exhilarating. The warmth of summer’s sun brought to life the world around them, the grasses they walk through a brilliant green with dots of wildflowers. She watches curiously as the landscape slowly changes from forest to mountain, the rocky crags of Loess just on their horizon.
Augusta hopes that Ivar did not mind the moments she often would press the silvery-grey of her body against him, the dark charcoal of her lips listlessly brushing against the smooth scales that glitter on his shoulders and neck. She cannot help but be drawn to him; a ghost-like figure of her past and yet the one who will bring her into a new future - one that is not filled with loneliness and shadows, but of warm touches and gentle words, the feeling of being wanted and needed.
They arrive to Loess just as the sun begins to set behind the jagged outcroppings of rocks, and her stormy eyes wistfully glance up to take in the new sights - and oh, the smell. Flourishing flora has taken up residence here, varying in color and size. It is so much different than the forest and the excitement that alights in her eyes also permeates through her body as her dark and slender legs bring her forwards to walk shoulder to shoulder with her Ivar, her dark forelock falling across her bright eyes. “Are we here?” she whispers delicately into the warm flesh of his cheek, her voice soft as the depths of twilight begin to cover all of Loess.
Gentle and soft orbs of light begin to blink lazily around them, and at first glance, they were perhaps fireflies floating above the earth. But Augusta knew better; in her excitement and sheer adrenaline, she had unknowingly created the tiny lights that now hover throughout where they walk, their legs bumping against their soft light. She laughs curiously; she cannot remember the last time her ability showed itself on its own, and with a shy smile she pushes her nose against one of the twinkling lights; watching as it drifts away from her and alights itself into the depths of Ivar’s smoky mane.
Augusta hopes that Ivar did not mind the moments she often would press the silvery-grey of her body against him, the dark charcoal of her lips listlessly brushing against the smooth scales that glitter on his shoulders and neck. She cannot help but be drawn to him; a ghost-like figure of her past and yet the one who will bring her into a new future - one that is not filled with loneliness and shadows, but of warm touches and gentle words, the feeling of being wanted and needed.
They arrive to Loess just as the sun begins to set behind the jagged outcroppings of rocks, and her stormy eyes wistfully glance up to take in the new sights - and oh, the smell. Flourishing flora has taken up residence here, varying in color and size. It is so much different than the forest and the excitement that alights in her eyes also permeates through her body as her dark and slender legs bring her forwards to walk shoulder to shoulder with her Ivar, her dark forelock falling across her bright eyes. “Are we here?” she whispers delicately into the warm flesh of his cheek, her voice soft as the depths of twilight begin to cover all of Loess.
Gentle and soft orbs of light begin to blink lazily around them, and at first glance, they were perhaps fireflies floating above the earth. But Augusta knew better; in her excitement and sheer adrenaline, she had unknowingly created the tiny lights that now hover throughout where they walk, their legs bumping against their soft light. She laughs curiously; she cannot remember the last time her ability showed itself on its own, and with a shy smile she pushes her nose against one of the twinkling lights; watching as it drifts away from her and alights itself into the depths of Ivar’s smoky mane.
@[Ivar]