05-19-2018, 10:14 PM
haze like a fever
i fell like a dreamer for sweet tea and lemonade; it clings to my t-shirt it’s loud and it lingers, designed to suffocate. i light up to find what i’ve known all this time, there’s some beauty here yet
This time, when a call reaches her sun-dipped ears, she’s swimming. The Nerinian ocean is angry today, crashing loud waves against the granite cliffs, but she’d found a place to sneak down a thin trail to reach a small, rocky beach where the waves are less threatening. The water was stinging on her skin when she started out, but by the time she’s beckoned out of the ocean her flesh has numbed from the sensation.
She’s still wet when she reaches the border. Her dark mane sticks to the sinewy muscle along her neck and a few delicate droplets drip off their tips. Spring had shone its bleary face the day before, thawing the earth and crafting mud puddles to dot Nerine’s landscape. While winter pushes through once more, the puddles remain and Wishbone’s long legs are splattered with mud in traditional Wishbone-fashion. The swelling and pain from her mocking injury has gone down, but a purple-hued bruise still blossoms against her left flank.
In summary, Wishbone still looks every bit the rambunctious, fearless girl she had been as a child — though she is definitely grown up. When her eyes land on Wolfbane, she cannot help that those are also the first thoughts reaching her mind: he has grown up. It awakens a piece of her she is only just beginning to understand (a piece of her she will grow to cater to) but her delight upon seeing her best friend dims the confusion that ties itself to the awakening.
“Wolfbane!” Her vocal chords still hold the smoke of Tephra, giving her a honey-whiskey tune to her melodic call. While she had been trotting quickly toward the border before, when she recognizes the two-toned boy her legs stretch into a gallop to close their distance sooner. Just when it might seem Wishbone could run into her friend’s (equally as developing) chest, she darts to Wolfbane’s right and makes a circle before slowing to come up on his left shoulder.
Her sable nose buries itself first in the thick of his cream feathers, inhaling the scent of her best friend. She blows a teasing snort into his left wing, hoping to tickle the thin nerves there, before pulling her face away to mouth at his unique mane. “Where the fuck have you been?” She might be a princess — and now an heir — but she certainly doesn’t have a lady mouth. A laugh is in the back of her throat, but Wishbone’s mind suddenly registers the new, thickly-slathered scent on Wolfbane.
“You’ve been to Loess?” There’s a pinch in her gut, thinking of the updates Scorch has been bringing her as the political climate of Beqanna shifts, but then she forces her worries aside. Wolfbane is here and that’s what matters. The politics of their separate lives can wait. So the girl slides herself closer to Wolfbane’s side (and with that action she is suddenly, brutally aware of the way their bodies are no longer those of children) and presses a tender, dainty kiss to the slope of his jawline. “Did you come all this way to see me?”
She’s still wet when she reaches the border. Her dark mane sticks to the sinewy muscle along her neck and a few delicate droplets drip off their tips. Spring had shone its bleary face the day before, thawing the earth and crafting mud puddles to dot Nerine’s landscape. While winter pushes through once more, the puddles remain and Wishbone’s long legs are splattered with mud in traditional Wishbone-fashion. The swelling and pain from her mocking injury has gone down, but a purple-hued bruise still blossoms against her left flank.
In summary, Wishbone still looks every bit the rambunctious, fearless girl she had been as a child — though she is definitely grown up. When her eyes land on Wolfbane, she cannot help that those are also the first thoughts reaching her mind: he has grown up. It awakens a piece of her she is only just beginning to understand (a piece of her she will grow to cater to) but her delight upon seeing her best friend dims the confusion that ties itself to the awakening.
“Wolfbane!” Her vocal chords still hold the smoke of Tephra, giving her a honey-whiskey tune to her melodic call. While she had been trotting quickly toward the border before, when she recognizes the two-toned boy her legs stretch into a gallop to close their distance sooner. Just when it might seem Wishbone could run into her friend’s (equally as developing) chest, she darts to Wolfbane’s right and makes a circle before slowing to come up on his left shoulder.
Her sable nose buries itself first in the thick of his cream feathers, inhaling the scent of her best friend. She blows a teasing snort into his left wing, hoping to tickle the thin nerves there, before pulling her face away to mouth at his unique mane. “Where the fuck have you been?” She might be a princess — and now an heir — but she certainly doesn’t have a lady mouth. A laugh is in the back of her throat, but Wishbone’s mind suddenly registers the new, thickly-slathered scent on Wolfbane.
“You’ve been to Loess?” There’s a pinch in her gut, thinking of the updates Scorch has been bringing her as the political climate of Beqanna shifts, but then she forces her worries aside. Wolfbane is here and that’s what matters. The politics of their separate lives can wait. So the girl slides herself closer to Wolfbane’s side (and with that action she is suddenly, brutally aware of the way their bodies are no longer those of children) and presses a tender, dainty kiss to the slope of his jawline. “Did you come all this way to see me?”
@[Wolfbane] omg omg omg <33