04-18-2015, 05:32 PM
so you wanna play with magic?
Night falls, and the Deserts spring to silent life. There are so many animals that thrive better at night, when the cold comes sweeping in and they can all emerge without threat from the scorching sun. For Camrynn, day and night might as well be the same thing; it's all equal to her, no matter what she faces she will adapt it to her liking. She's always been partial to the night, however. There's always been something about the silence and solitude, the way the rest of the world seems to fold itself up into a blanket of silence, leaving the night owls alone with their thoughts.
She is acutely aware of (quite literally) everything that goes on in the Deserts, and so she feels it when Kreios returns home from the Meadow. She can feel his thoughts almost as he thinks them, the way he seeks for himself, and the way he feels the Deserts as his true home. She remembers him from the kingdom meeting, the way he had questioned her about her loyalty when no one else had. She suspects that there is more to him than even he knows. And so she decides to go to him.
She rises from the dark shadows beneath one of the oasis trees. Whether she has been there all along or has appeared there suddenly is almost irrelevant, so exactly does she melt into the darkness. Perhaps she is even pulling the shadow closer around her, drawing it in and sweeping it across herself like a cloak. Or perhaps she's simply been lounging beneath the shade, cloaked in shadows no more unnatural than they ever are.
Her sleek body is as beautiful as ever, black against the night sky. Even in the fading light she is lovely, bathed in a gentle radiance that is part sunset and part moonrise. There is a slight breeze as the sun goes, and it flutters her silky mane and tail as it passes. Her tree is close enough that he would likely see her, but long enough that when she moves to close the distance between them it takes her a handful of strides to do it.
"Kreios." she greets, her voice like warm velvet, pleasant and soft. "You smell like the Meadow." she offers conversationally, a small smile playing at her lips. And it's true, he does smell like the meadow, the mélange of other horses, the tender perfume of conversation. That's not how she knows he's been there, but it easily could have been.
"Did you find what you were looking for there?" she asks the question as though it's a regular part of conversation, politely and innocently, giving no indication that she knows he had been seeking more than just company. She doesn't tell him that she can read so much of what's going on inside him, that she knows so much of what eats away at him. And she understands that to simply tip her hand, let all the cards fall, and tell him everything she knows would be counterproductive for both of them. She understands the power of waiting, of letting him come to the understanding in his own time.
It will come, she knows it.
She is acutely aware of (quite literally) everything that goes on in the Deserts, and so she feels it when Kreios returns home from the Meadow. She can feel his thoughts almost as he thinks them, the way he seeks for himself, and the way he feels the Deserts as his true home. She remembers him from the kingdom meeting, the way he had questioned her about her loyalty when no one else had. She suspects that there is more to him than even he knows. And so she decides to go to him.
She rises from the dark shadows beneath one of the oasis trees. Whether she has been there all along or has appeared there suddenly is almost irrelevant, so exactly does she melt into the darkness. Perhaps she is even pulling the shadow closer around her, drawing it in and sweeping it across herself like a cloak. Or perhaps she's simply been lounging beneath the shade, cloaked in shadows no more unnatural than they ever are.
Her sleek body is as beautiful as ever, black against the night sky. Even in the fading light she is lovely, bathed in a gentle radiance that is part sunset and part moonrise. There is a slight breeze as the sun goes, and it flutters her silky mane and tail as it passes. Her tree is close enough that he would likely see her, but long enough that when she moves to close the distance between them it takes her a handful of strides to do it.
"Kreios." she greets, her voice like warm velvet, pleasant and soft. "You smell like the Meadow." she offers conversationally, a small smile playing at her lips. And it's true, he does smell like the meadow, the mélange of other horses, the tender perfume of conversation. That's not how she knows he's been there, but it easily could have been.
"Did you find what you were looking for there?" she asks the question as though it's a regular part of conversation, politely and innocently, giving no indication that she knows he had been seeking more than just company. She doesn't tell him that she can read so much of what's going on inside him, that she knows so much of what eats away at him. And she understands that to simply tip her hand, let all the cards fall, and tell him everything she knows would be counterproductive for both of them. She understands the power of waiting, of letting him come to the understanding in his own time.
It will come, she knows it.
CAMRYNN
co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery