let my shadows prove the sunshine
Moonlight has always made him mischievous; anything done in the daylight seems all the more secretive when it is hushed by the sound of blanketed silence, with only deeply winking stars and the pale-face moon to observe what unfolds beneath their chilling silver light. The bite in the air does not help this mischievousness that thrums in Svedka’s broad chest, his boldness growing more and more with each sashaying step he takes besides Pteron. The dun stallion sidesteps to move from him and Svedka allows the displeasure to show on his ivory face, his nose wrinkling up before a sort of pout finds his lips. As the accusation becomes more of a tease about Svedka’s own nighttime rendezvous, his pout flourishes into a delicate smile that allows him to remain aloof, not admitting anything outright. Instead, the warmth of Pteron’s breath makes him wild and reckless, high on the moonlight and the stallion’s scent; their casual conversation tiptoes ever closer to that dangerous precipice that Svedka lives to jump off of. “Oh, what kind of record would that be? I am surely the farthest thing from a patrolman, wouldn’t you agree?”
Svedka cannot help himself. Perhaps it’s one of the reasons he never turns down an invitation to meet someone new; the anticipation only heightens every sense, invigorates and makes everything all the more intense and exciting. He wonders if Pteron would tremble beneath his touch, or would it be the other way around? Svedka’s curious eyes brush over the soft downy within his feathers, the brisk air almost begging him to fall beneath its tender embrace. Svedka can feel himself nearing the familiar point where the fleeting touches and lighthearted teasing are not enough. His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, as if attempting to steady himself.
Pteron’s voice, though smooth and inviting on the cold air, seems to steady Svedka a moment more. The palomino overo lifts his eyes to his companion’s, contentedly listening. Permanence. His trademark lazy smile flutters across his face and though he sees no purpose in creating a home that is only one place, he finds that Pteron’s willingness to find one charming. Where Svedka belongs to the wind and the sun (much like his mother), Pteron belongs to a place. It reminds him of Solace and his own father, who flourished beneath a crown and leading a people. Silently, he hopes Pteron is able to find such a place for himself.
“Anyone who truly desires joy will ever miss it. Those who seek often find what they are looking for.” Svedka’s smile is genuine and even a bit emotional as he encourages the winged stallion, tender heartedly brushing his smiling lips at the steady movement of his pale shoulder. He lingers there for a long moment, so that the other would know the touch is purposeful in its placement, and he purses his lips in a soft, diligent kiss to the base of Pteron’s neck before straightening himself.
He laughs. “No, no,” comes his response, with a gentle shake of his head. Honestly it’s possible that his bloodline has gone farther than he knows, but he has never been told any different. “Children need a home, like you said. Though being uncle to my sisters kids will probably be as close as I’ll get to fathering my own. But,” Svedka pauses with a gentle shrug, “who knows? Anything can happen, I guess. Though I truly doubt Beqanna needs another one of me running around.” His laugh is heartfelt on the cool night air, comfortably leaning into Pteron’s shoulder as they continue walking.
“Will this be your first?” he asks after a moment of silence, cerulean eyes searching the depths of his.
svedka
@[Pteron]