• Logout
  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [private]  i choose you and me religiously, assailant
    #2

    Assailant

    The autumn breeze lashes its sharp, chilled fingers at his side, just unpleasant enough to make him want to cut his flight short. And yet, he presses on, not willing to admit defeat. Not again.

    He knows that he should bask in the simple beauty of his life, and he does. Oh, how he does. As a youngster, he never imagined things would turn out this way and, if he’s completely honest, he had never really wanted this life. To no surprise, of course, since the prevailing lifestyle of his upbringing was driven by hormones and unfettered by silly things like morals. He supposed he’d been ‘successful’, but perhaps deep within, he’d known that something wasn’t quite right about the parade of faceless women and nameless children. But he couldn’t see beyond it, so he blundered aimlessly through the motions until he couldn’t anymore.

    He doesn’t remember much about those long years of imprisonment, but he knows he never thought about trying something new. And yet, once released from the bowels of the earth, fate had set him on a course that led to all of the things he’d once laughed at.. a deep, shared love with a woman who kept him on his toes. Though they’d had their share of trials, it worked out in the end and now he delights in the family they’d created. Even now, pride warms him as he thinks of their children—exceptionally bright and growing beautifully, or so his parental blinders insist. He never thought he could be so intensely invested in the futures of well… anyone, yet here he is. Though he is grateful for the changes and devoted to keeping on this path, bits of his old pessimism manage to bleed through as quickly as ink on wet paper.

    So it’s no surprise to him that as quickly as it comes, the warmth leaches away as his thoughts switch to their home, or lack thereof. Of course, he’d grown to enjoy the meadow, and both the forest and the seashore are sentimental, but he can’t shake the disappointment that lurks just beneath the surface. Casimira had suggested he assume leadership of Tephra, but that was never the point. Despite his changed perspective, he still does not believe he is the right kind of man for that. No, he simply wanted somewhere they could call their own, a safe place where they could give their children the kind of upbringing he’d not had. And yes, there is the blow his ego had taken as well. He does recognize that his feelings are not unlike a child’s irrational pouting, for Adriana had not given any indication that she thought any less of him for the fruitless endeavour. But still…

    He sighs heavily into the wind, knowing he should return, as he’s been away for longer than intended. He descends slowly, scanning the shore for his family; when he does not see them, he turns north, wondering if he should bypass the forest, as they don’t spend as much time there as the meadow. He does begin to venture that way, but something tugs at him, directing him away from the meadow. He touches down near the river, knowing he can at least follow it back to the meadow if he does not find them here. But he does not have to look far, at least not today.

    The corners of his mouth turn up slightly as he simply watches her for a few moments, still dazzled by the ethereal pictures she creates even when just standing as she is. He feels like a walking cliché sometimes, but he acknowledges how lucky he is to be where he is at. It’s almost enough to push aside the negativity, but it lingers anyway as tension in his face. But he arranges his expression carefully as he wades into the water, not wanting to start off by burdening her with his troubles. He reaches her in just a few short strides, pausing to gently press his lips to her shoulder. “You know, I do love meeting a pretty lady in the water…” He then trails his way up her neck, admiring the path his warm breath leaves in her frosted scales. When he comes to rest at her side, he lets his head lean against hers and a low rumble of affection rises from his chest. “Penny for your thoughts?”

    All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware

    --Martin Buber

    image by HalwestIV

    @Adriana
    Reply


    Messages In This Thread
    RE: i choose you and me religiously, assailant - by assailant - 02-23-2025, 11:39 AM



    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)