I should have loved a thunderbird instead
at least when spring comes they roar back again
The growl is what catches his attention first but his heart does not pound in fear. He does not often give into fear—doesn’t let his body slip into the undercurrents of it—and he doesn’t react that way now. Instead, he just lifts his head slowly, blinking his dark purple eyes as they focus in the dark not her, the fierce beauty that radiates from her. The sharpness of her, the otherworldly cruelness in her beauty.
It like looking into the face of a predator and he marvels at that, but does not fear.
“Me,” he echoes slightly, unsure why her face is twisted in such hate as she steps closer. His body betrays him now, not giving him the instinctual fear that should be driving him away, that should be using his own gifts to protect himself. The wind picks up for a second and he lifts his nose slightly, nostrils flaring as he drinks it in like an addict. Pteron. It was so familiar that his lips curve in response to it.
Something clicks in the back of his mind, a memory, and he angles his head in thought—his face still remaining serene, eyes studying her. “Are you his wife?” His voice is even, the stallion completely unaware that she may see him as the threat—that she would blame him for whatever pain strikes at her breast. “You are not what I imagined,” he muses as his illusions react, the fantasy forest remaining but the stars beginning to fall down to them and then spinning in circles around them both in lazy loops.
He partially hands control over them over to her, wondering how the illusions would react.
Would she make them more violent? Would flames erupt around them?
He is curious as he continues to study her. “You are beautiful,” he confesses, because it’s only right to tell her that, “but in the way of a viper. Pteron is so kind. How strange that the two of you ended together.”
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
@[Reia]