He knows.
(Of course, he knows- he is a clever boy, a thinking boy, Kagerus' boy.)
But truly he is a stallion grown, she realizes as his hardened gaze strikes her, and not a boy at all. Instead of Svedka, Solace sees something of her mate in her step-son as he lifts his head a little higher.
Something regal, yet beautifully terrible, and almost cruel. Something she would admire in him if the the force of it were not directed at her.
But too quickly he recovers, smiling a smile that she has never seen him wear before. It is a mischievous smile, but there is no innocence in the mischief, and she feels her gut twist. Solace rarely lost her footing in a conversation, but when she did it was so hard to recover it.
"Silver Cove," she replies, her voice far softer than she intended. "Mostly everyone has moved her since the plague struck."
As she says the words she realizes the irony. Everyone is here, she tells him, and yet she finds herself whispering alone with him here in the birch-wood, their heads twisted together, and wishing Kagerus were not on the other side of the continent.
But as he reaches for her she does not move away. Instead she stands idly, as maybe if she does not notice it will simply stop. But he does not stop. The thought to phase away from his touch crosses her mind, but no, he has done nothing wrong. She is the one to blame, the adult, the queen, who was silly enough to mistake him for another, and cruel enough to let him know it. If this feels wrong, it is only because of the her missteps earlier. She allows his weighted touch trail across her skin, telling herself he is gracious to forgive her so easily. But it lingers too long, too intensely, and although she does not want to acknowledge this, the feeling it stirs is one she can not ignore.
The skin his mouth had so briefly explored burns hot, but it is not the heat of passion - it is an uncomfortable, crawling heat. But this time, Solace makes a conscious effort to soften the line of her lips and jaw so they will not reveal the way her teeth grind together behind their pretty, plump shapes. She adjusts though, drawing herself out from under his caress to bring her muzzle to his for the briefest of moments in a simple greeting and diversion. The gesture cloaks the denial of his roaming lips, she hopes, putting the moment politely aside so they can both forget it forever.
"Here, let me take you to the others," she says, her tone steady once again, possibly mechanically so. "I just left them and I'm sure Velk would love to see you."
we are the ever-living ghost of what once was
@[abysm] i'm all here for 'weird and a little dark' <3
