[private] There's the rub [Warrick]

[Warrick]

like the sun swallowed up by the earth

There is more beneath their twinkling stares than either would care to admit, but both are left in the dark by the other. He dare not ask her to leave, or for he himself to depart from her, for he would only wander quietly on the ashen shoreline until he reached the underground spring fed by the volcano’s heat, where he would stare into the steam and water until time reached a new day, and he would begin again. The thought of that, the thought of prying himself from the cool waters they were in, the thought of upheaving himself from the stream and to go his separate way, was entirely too sad for him to even consider. 

Their conversation turns back to gentle banter, and the navy-bay stallion is glad. The smile on his lips is an easy and simple one, reaching the blue of his eyes and causing his features to remain strikingly handsome beneath the afternoon sun. It had already been hours that they have spent together, and slowly the heat of noonday is waning, giving way to what soon will be a summer’s eve, or perhaps the blackened thunder clouds that float dangerously low on the mountainous backdrop will finally burst along the valley-land, riddling the air with more humidity and moisture. 

Ceara’s voice is slick and taunting as she moves into the shallows, wading there where the curves of her body are accentuated pleasingly with the water’s surface, as well as the droplets that cling tightly to her ebony skin, hugging every impossible angle and slope in a way that makes his eyes slowly meet her own. Her laugh brings his eyes snapping to hers. 

“It’s good to know you will be here if I need you - your knowledge of Tephra is vital for anyone who wishes to serve it.” He adds the last part quickly, without hesitancy or thought - he would feel guilty if he hadn’t otherwise. 

Before the Reckoning.

He suddenly feels cold, and when she says that she is too, he glances up at her with warm eyes. “Let’s go then,” he suggests, moving through the water and towards the shore, his large wings heavy with water as he brushes past her - innocently, accidentally, he tells himself - until his hooves solidly plant on the river-bottom. Water spilling over his back and catching between the navy of his feathers, that now are haphazardly strewn from their deep-water swim. Warrick turns to look over his shoulder, the water spilling off of his thick mane and forelock to run down his neck and back into the stream, to see if she is willing to join him once again.

Warrick

@[Ceara]