09-12-2018, 09:16 PM
hold me in this wild, wild world
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
There is a watchful peace. Nobody is quite sure it will be a lasting peace, but they have space to take a breath. Brennen is watching his children play in the water; the girls are soaked down to every last inch and feather, but the joyful noises they make over the splashing and the running back and forth have brought a smile to his face and he stands just on the sand side of the treeline, quiet. Half of his attention is on the land-bridge, exposed for travel, and half is on his daughters in the surf.
His name in a familiar voice diverts his attention, and he muses in faint amusement that the last time they spoke, it was also under the ever-watchful eyes of youth. Little Kypria. But he had gotten the sense from Leilan then that he’d have rather spoken in private, and it seems distinctly unfair to make him suffer through the same vague indignity twice. So the bay King steps forward and sends his daughters scampering towards the cove they call home, and their mother, with a quiet word. Taeryn is big enough to watch over Raeva in the safety of Ischia for the time it takes to travel there, but Brennen sends a little water bauble floating along with them just in case - eyes and ears on the girls just in case. In case of the worst, because he can’t live through it again.
Only after he sends the girls away does he turn back to Leilan, joining the roan man in the shade of the first few palm trees, where he can continue to keep an eye on the land bridge until the water rises, and also speak to the stallion. His friend, he thinks, at this point; despite the differences in their ages. The bay glances at his companion and lets the silence stretch for a moment, because it’s a comfortable silence. There’s something simmering underneath the boy’s skin but it isn’t something that feels threatening or exploding. “What’s on your mind, Leilan?”
His name in a familiar voice diverts his attention, and he muses in faint amusement that the last time they spoke, it was also under the ever-watchful eyes of youth. Little Kypria. But he had gotten the sense from Leilan then that he’d have rather spoken in private, and it seems distinctly unfair to make him suffer through the same vague indignity twice. So the bay King steps forward and sends his daughters scampering towards the cove they call home, and their mother, with a quiet word. Taeryn is big enough to watch over Raeva in the safety of Ischia for the time it takes to travel there, but Brennen sends a little water bauble floating along with them just in case - eyes and ears on the girls just in case. In case of the worst, because he can’t live through it again.
Only after he sends the girls away does he turn back to Leilan, joining the roan man in the shade of the first few palm trees, where he can continue to keep an eye on the land bridge until the water rises, and also speak to the stallion. His friend, he thinks, at this point; despite the differences in their ages. The bay glances at his companion and lets the silence stretch for a moment, because it’s a comfortable silence. There’s something simmering underneath the boy’s skin but it isn’t something that feels threatening or exploding. “What’s on your mind, Leilan?”
hold me in this wild, wild world
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
BRENNEN