blackbird singin in the dead of night

[magnus]

I wanna give you wild love, the kind that never slows down
I wanna take you high up let our hearts be the only sound

Each of these moments, time spent with the women of Tephra and his growing brood, is special to him and he holds it close to himself. Magnus has never been one to father endless children. Never one to let the pull of nature overtake him each season, resulting in a forever growing legacy. The fact that he has several of his children running around this season is a new sensation for him and a telling look inside the soul of his that churns with loneliness, that taunts him with memories of love every night.

But he is not taunted now.

Now, he is blissful, looking at the baby running around them and crashing into his legs. He tilts his head toward Jude, his smile growing a little wider at the hint of irritation in her voice. He assumes that it is just fear of parenthood masked, although he doesn’t dare point out such a thing. But he doesn’t react to the sharpness in her words. Instead he smiles down at where she curls into his side, brushing his lips over her forehead. “You’re doing beautifully,” he breathes. “And I’m here, to help, whenever you need me.”

Magnus has never been the kind to assume that the responsibility of raising the children was to be born alone by the mother, although he did his best to give them primary say in the decisions. Still, he knew that she was young and he wanted to be there to help. However, his attention is caught short by the sudden appearance of the avian-like horse, chirping and tapping a dangerous foot by his face.

Although there is a part of his brain that tells him to run from such threats, he remains still, looking up at her with a warm, crooked smile. “Hello there,” he greets, gold-flecked eyes sparking with humor. One ear swivels to Jude as she explains the filly, and he never thinks to be upset with her wandering off. Tephra was a home and not a prison. He would never try to keep her locked up here under his watchful eye.

“Myrkari,” he repeats the name, holding onto the filly’s upside down gaze.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Welcome home.”

I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine

@[peregrine jude] @[Myrkari]