maybe you were the ocean
At the edge of the empty meadow Wane is basking in the subtle smells of autumn leaves, and the undisturbed silence that echoes all around him. In Nerine he had claimed what were essentially squatter rights and the kingdom (a land claimed by the former amazons tribe, unbeknownst to him at the time), he’d learned only recently, could get more than a little wild towards the end of the season so he is unabashedly grateful for the peace. Today, he is thinking about her, because the way the oak tree he stands beneath now is casting shadows along his back reminds him of the way he’d grown up in her wake.
He won’t say it aloud, but he’s missed her.
There are those that think twins are intuitive; that one will instinctively feel the prickle of hair on the skin of his back and know that the other is in danger. This had never been the case with his sister, as far as Wane is concerned. If it were, he wouldn’t have needed to flit from place to place in search of her wildfire skin, and hurricane legs. He longed for her, though, in strong ways that he could only ever describe as a sort of homesickness. That’s what Wax was to him; home.
So, when he cranes his great head to look across the meadow at any of its potential patrons (and not for any of the elegant reasons that Wax, gentle as she is, might assume) and sees the familiar burn of her skin something inside him is stirred. He laughs aloud at the way her hair still falls across her eyes as moves forward as though he has been set on fire himself, arriving at her flank just in accordance with a rather broody-looking stranger who says his name is Magnus.
“Did she ask?” He scowls, unable to help himself, but he doesn’t linger on the stranger long as in the next moment he moves to look his sister in her eyes.
“Wax,” he says, the curl of a familiar smile on his lips.
“What took you so long?”
@[Wax] @[Magnus]