06-19-2018, 01:13 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
The silence that drapes across his face and the thick absence of oxygen in her lungs pulls a memory into her mind.
The summer water is clear, a vivid reflection of the endlessly blue skies above. Humidity lays thick across Tephra, dampening their skin and suffocating their lungs in a strangely familiar way. The waves are smooth and happy against her young legs. The sun is warm, spreading across her shoulders and back in a delicious blanket of light.
In the near distance, close to the shoreline but too far to be shallow, the surface of the ocean shatters to reveal the dark back of a humpback whale. Droplets arc into the air, glittering when the sun’s rays catch them, and the sound of a powerful breath is faint above the rush of the tides. Two more whales surface alongside the first and Wishbone watches as their tails flick above the surface before they dip below the southern sea’s waves.
“I want to swim with them.” Her voice is young and husky, melting perfectly with their ashen surroundings. When her eyes turn toward Wolfbane, he is just as young as she — the angles of his face are softened by youth and the shine of childhood immaturity is in his olive eyes. He was probably expecting her to remain on the shore yet her feet move swiftly deeper into the water before he can say anything.
It isn’t long before she realizes her mistake, but it is only when the sand gives out beneath her and the ocean sweeps her further out. The whales are swimming away as well, lost in the daily habits of searching for food, and never even glance at the slender little filly nearly-drowning to reach them. Wishbone starts choking as exhaustion swarms her and a startled cry slips between her water-doused lips. “Wolfbane!”
He’d rescued her, as he always has when she runs headlong into trouble, but the expression on his face when they’d finally crawled onto Tephra’s shore again is akin to the one he carries now in the artificial glow of the cavern. It feels as though every muscle in her body is poised to run, though she’s not sure where (away from her favorite place with her favorite person or toward his broad chest or into the sea where she will surely drown herself once more). Then a smile shatters the stoic expression on his face and she feels her entirely body relax with relief.
She has always trusted him to get her out of anything, even when it is her own mind.
This time is no different.
Wishbone secures herself around the steadiness of his olive gaze. It centers her and she realigns around the strength she almost always holds. A deep breath pulls into her lungs, stuttering toward the beginning but smoothing out quickly. “God, I don’t know what I was thinking,” she says. “Of course you would never leave me.” Her feet are stepping closer to him, the memory that had just dripped through her mind resurfacing the fact that this is her Wolfbane, the very same one that found sea glass with her, saved her from drowning, played tag with her in Tephra’s jungle, and often complained about the agitation of his father.
This last thought brings her closer to him even further, enough that her lithe chest nearly presses against his deep one. She’s been around Femur and Longclaw to recognize the touches of lovers and her own sable mouth reaches forward to softly touch the tender skin along his withers, just below the line of his bright-white mane. Blue and black connect, delicate and hesitant, but Wishbone is forcing herself to finish her thought process before she gets lost in the suddenly-manly scent of him.
“How’s Longclaw doing?” She knows this is a tender subject for him, one that has plagued him all his life, but her voice is its normal strong honey-whiskey tune once more. She’s always been startlingly straight with him (even when she’d announced becoming queen just now) and she doesn’t plan on stopping. Nor does she pull away from him, choosing to say the words against the smooth navy and gold of his skin. “Have you visited him recently?”
The summer water is clear, a vivid reflection of the endlessly blue skies above. Humidity lays thick across Tephra, dampening their skin and suffocating their lungs in a strangely familiar way. The waves are smooth and happy against her young legs. The sun is warm, spreading across her shoulders and back in a delicious blanket of light.
In the near distance, close to the shoreline but too far to be shallow, the surface of the ocean shatters to reveal the dark back of a humpback whale. Droplets arc into the air, glittering when the sun’s rays catch them, and the sound of a powerful breath is faint above the rush of the tides. Two more whales surface alongside the first and Wishbone watches as their tails flick above the surface before they dip below the southern sea’s waves.
“I want to swim with them.” Her voice is young and husky, melting perfectly with their ashen surroundings. When her eyes turn toward Wolfbane, he is just as young as she — the angles of his face are softened by youth and the shine of childhood immaturity is in his olive eyes. He was probably expecting her to remain on the shore yet her feet move swiftly deeper into the water before he can say anything.
It isn’t long before she realizes her mistake, but it is only when the sand gives out beneath her and the ocean sweeps her further out. The whales are swimming away as well, lost in the daily habits of searching for food, and never even glance at the slender little filly nearly-drowning to reach them. Wishbone starts choking as exhaustion swarms her and a startled cry slips between her water-doused lips. “Wolfbane!”
He’d rescued her, as he always has when she runs headlong into trouble, but the expression on his face when they’d finally crawled onto Tephra’s shore again is akin to the one he carries now in the artificial glow of the cavern. It feels as though every muscle in her body is poised to run, though she’s not sure where (away from her favorite place with her favorite person or toward his broad chest or into the sea where she will surely drown herself once more). Then a smile shatters the stoic expression on his face and she feels her entirely body relax with relief.
She has always trusted him to get her out of anything, even when it is her own mind.
This time is no different.
Wishbone secures herself around the steadiness of his olive gaze. It centers her and she realigns around the strength she almost always holds. A deep breath pulls into her lungs, stuttering toward the beginning but smoothing out quickly. “God, I don’t know what I was thinking,” she says. “Of course you would never leave me.” Her feet are stepping closer to him, the memory that had just dripped through her mind resurfacing the fact that this is her Wolfbane, the very same one that found sea glass with her, saved her from drowning, played tag with her in Tephra’s jungle, and often complained about the agitation of his father.
This last thought brings her closer to him even further, enough that her lithe chest nearly presses against his deep one. She’s been around Femur and Longclaw to recognize the touches of lovers and her own sable mouth reaches forward to softly touch the tender skin along his withers, just below the line of his bright-white mane. Blue and black connect, delicate and hesitant, but Wishbone is forcing herself to finish her thought process before she gets lost in the suddenly-manly scent of him.
“How’s Longclaw doing?” She knows this is a tender subject for him, one that has plagued him all his life, but her voice is its normal strong honey-whiskey tune once more. She’s always been startlingly straight with him (even when she’d announced becoming queen just now) and she doesn’t plan on stopping. Nor does she pull away from him, choosing to say the words against the smooth navy and gold of his skin. “Have you visited him recently?”
@[Wolfbane] <33