I kept my hope just like I hoped to // any

[Rhaegor]

I kept my hope just like i'd hoped to
then sang to the sea for feelings deep blue

In the chaotic whirlpool of her company, Rhae finds himself clinging to her eyes to stay afloat, feeling at once bedraggled and elated to be in the presence of one so unhindered and full of life. She speaks and he nods dazedly, barely understanding (I guess it would come in handy if I decided I didn't want someone close to me) what she means and the implications her words could have if he ever would stop to consider his actions and how they make other people feel. No, as he smiles at her and thinks of how pretty she is when she speaks and laughs and smiles, he doesn't think of any of his other dalliances; her frost aura could never be turned towards him. Could it?

And yet, as the gears of his mind grind to a halt, her chaotic disposition softens, the energy of her aura quieting in order to hear what he has to say - not that it's much. When at last his name does befall her ears, she's suddenly closer to him, pressing the kiss he'd intended to give to her to the soft fur of his dapple buckskin neck. It's nice to meet you, Rhaegor, she says, and his eyelashes flutter in something like shock, tangling with the blue locks of her mane. He leans into her touch, sliding his lips along the length of her own neck. That sparkling feeling in her chest bursts forth in his too, and for a fraction of a second, they stand there in tingling youth, discovering that there were reasons that fillies and colts played together.

Speaking of playing! Rhae's shapely head rebounds off of her in surprise and dismay as she bolts away, a flustered grin stretching his ashen lips as she tugs on his mane and issues a challenge, one that has nothing to do with the sparks they'd just been so smitten with; but she's running before he can get a word in edgewise (hah), and after a dizzying moment of trying to ground himself back to reality, the young prince launches after her.

As the two yearlings race towards the forest, the last of the year's cool air tears at their longs with happy claws, sending them almost to cloud nine as they snort and pump their legs and throw jeering looks back and forth at one another. Just when it seems that Rhae is going to win their race, he pulls up short, watching intently as Chryseis whoops to the tree, the joy of her win nearly tangible.

As she cavorts and brags, Rhae slowly walks closer, breathing hard; and when they come chest to chest with the tree at Chryseis' back, he doesn't stop. The release of energy has brought forth something new to Rhae, and he feels that newness in his gut, in his pulse, and in her pulse too as he presses his lips to her neck. They slide down towards her whithers in silence, his hot breath still befalling her skin in heavy bouts; but at the peak of her roaned shoulders, he instinctually pulls his lips back and bites her.

Mine.

Rhaegor

@[Chryseis]