03-21-2018, 07:30 PM
hold me in this wild, wild world
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
Things are moving, gears grinding into action, and knowing it has caused a constant, low-grade thrum of excitement to form beneath Brennen’s skin. It makes him more awake, more alert, and he’s standing just inside the treeline with his eyes half-open watching the beach and the easiest-to-find crossing place when the stranger wades across at low tide and stands nearly opposite Brennen staring at the treeline. Brennen would be worried the boy was staring back at him, except he knows he’s practically invisible at this distance, in the gloom under the trees, until he moves. Which gives him several long heartbeats to observe the chestnut-and-white stallion before he takes a breath and starts to walk.
His steps are casual but not slow, because it’s not polite to keep someone waiting. He keeps his wings tucked neatly against his side and as he approaches, admire the stranger’s matching set of long horns, and when he’s close enough for it to matter, he offers his brief and habitually half-smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes, because it usually doesn’t, in casual conversation with strangers; he’s a generally private guy, after all. “Hello,” he greets in a polite drawl, stopping and lifting his face for a moment to the warm sunshine, and again he admires how different Ischia is from the Tundra, and mostly in good ways. “Welcome to Ischia. I’m Brennen.”
He has a tingle of hopefulness because the newcomer is a stallion, and he does have his new network very carefully and slowly making overtures to those who might make good Brothers, but he refuses to jump the gun. There’s always the (rather large, in this case) potential that he isn’t here for Brennen’s fledging cause at all, but just happened by or is even a recruit just for Ischia. Of course, that second option doesn’t necessarily eliminate him from a future with Brennen’s cause, it just makes the game of winning him over (if he’s a good fit) that much more fun.
His steps are casual but not slow, because it’s not polite to keep someone waiting. He keeps his wings tucked neatly against his side and as he approaches, admire the stranger’s matching set of long horns, and when he’s close enough for it to matter, he offers his brief and habitually half-smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes, because it usually doesn’t, in casual conversation with strangers; he’s a generally private guy, after all. “Hello,” he greets in a polite drawl, stopping and lifting his face for a moment to the warm sunshine, and again he admires how different Ischia is from the Tundra, and mostly in good ways. “Welcome to Ischia. I’m Brennen.”
He has a tingle of hopefulness because the newcomer is a stallion, and he does have his new network very carefully and slowly making overtures to those who might make good Brothers, but he refuses to jump the gun. There’s always the (rather large, in this case) potential that he isn’t here for Brennen’s fledging cause at all, but just happened by or is even a recruit just for Ischia. Of course, that second option doesn’t necessarily eliminate him from a future with Brennen’s cause, it just makes the game of winning him over (if he’s a good fit) that much more fun.
hold me in this wild, wild world
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
BRENNEN