[private] ...with my name on your tongue and your tongue on my... || Chryseis

[Rhaegor]

Rhaegor

the playboy

He hears her internal scolding before he hears the snaps of twigs beneath her hooves.

The sound thereof causes a veritable cacophony of emotions to cross the once-prince's face. He dumbly attempts to call for his lover, throat clicking quietly while his head tosses. Impatient. Needy. Feeble though he feels, Rhaegor trots - or rather, quickly stumbles - towards the sounds he now knew to be coming from the one he had called. Chryseis!

And, all at once, it is as though not a moment has passed. With a suddenness indicative of pure devotion, the woman enters his embrace. There, Rhae feels the daggers of his bones pressing into the softness of Chryseis' flesh, becomes aware of his sickness compared to her health. For now, it matters not; nonsensical words of love and gratitude seep from his mind to hers, the prayers he'd been holding inside while comatose no longer obeying a command of silence. He concentrates most on the sound of her breathing, and the sensation her breath brings as it wafts across his gaunt shoulder.

I'm alive, he mimics, not quite sure whether he questions the statement or issues it as a reassurance. At what the mare says next, the pegasus grimaces; a quick shuffle of his half-lost wings confirms as much as she presumes. But then, her eyes find his, and all thoughts of sickness evade him. Needily, his lips clap together and reach for hers, toying with them as perhaps he might once have, a long, long time ago in the lowlands of Hyaline. Just a quiet prince, then; lucky enough to have ran into the gold-faced girl before she found one more qualified of loving her. Luck does not begin to describe that which lead me to you, he thought to her, chin tilting back such that his eyes might meet hers more seriously. Whatever ailed me for these months, it now retreats. I'm yours, Chryseis.

Inopportune and embarrassing, a loud rumble issues from the emaciated stallion's stomach. A sheepish expression breaks up the intimacy of the moment, but it does not succeed in making Rhaegor feel any less at home. After all, he thinks to himself privately, I am home now. You are my home.

Trembling slightly as he steps forward, Rhae lowers his head and gestures as though to begin travelling. What do you say we continue this reunion nearer to a stream and some grass? He attempts to keep the suggestion light by shaking out his mane, but the forceful movement sends the stallion stepping sideways to regain his balance. A long huff of air follows. And then maybe we could lay down together... But I want to know, what have I missed? Carefully this time, Rhae reaches to caress the slope of Chryseis' jaw. Anything you want to tell me. I'm happy to listen.

...my name on your tongue and your tongue on my...

@[Chryseis]