let my shadows prove the sunshine
Fresh spring sun is warm on the honey-gold of his back, warming the ivory patterns that (despite their murky color from months in the wilderness) splatter across his body. There is still the crispness of frost that coats the blades of dead grass that his clumsy hooves drag themselves over, but already he can see the springing up of bright green shoots that signal warmer, milder weather. The stallion snorts softly, still regaining the use of muscles that had grown dormant in his time away, shaking his head slightly as he attempts to wipe away the sheer sleepiness that begins to overcome him.
He has no memory of his time on the mountainside - only that he had suddenly fallen asleep amidst springtime, and now has awoken with springtime still on the world’s breath. There is no confusion that finds his face, for there is no known time lost for the Heart of Hyaline, except for that of a deep and obviously well needed rest. He’s groggy and bleary-eyed, though it is an expression he wears with a lazy grin, flaxen and blue tendrils of forelock spilling haphazardly across his face. A familiar sound of hooves solidly landing on the soft dirt causes the stallion to throw his head over his shoulder, half-expecting it to be the sound of his sister’s landfall that touched his ears, but still completely excited to see the alabaster woman as a casual smile creases on the pinkish-white of his mouth.
Svedka?
His name is a question on her lips and the stallion chuckles, bobbing his head slightly, nearly brushing his own shoulder with his muzzle. “Were you expecting someone else?” He replies with a wrinkle of his nose, feigning offense.
It is now when he fully turns to stand before her, nearly expectantly. The cerulean blue of his eyes slowly find their way to the yellowish folds of light that press tightly to her skin, causing him to lick his lips thoughtfully. Svedka then smiles warmly (almost mischievously) as his gaze flickers back to her own. “Traded your wings for the sun, yeah?” He comments, stretching his neck towards her with a tip of his chin upwards.
The wind shifts and the scent of her overwhelms him - sun and air and clear, crisp sky - and for a moment it is so, so soothing. Then there is something else (something that Svedka himself cannot put a name to) and his eyes sharpen slightly, the smile fading somewhat as an uncontrollable feeling of pure hunger rumbles through him. The strange feeling flutters in his stomach for a few moments longer, then vanishes all together. He purses his lips at the feeling of it, finding it curious, before his gaze softens and the easy, lazy grin finds his mouth again.
svedka
@[Ilma]