[private] [mature] at me, the sea withdrew

[Oceane]

oceane

at me, the sea withdrew

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Under the protection of his draconic wings, Oceane's attentiveness is only for Castile. Her worries are only for Castile. Her memories are only for Castile. She wants to bare all beneath his watchful mismatched eyes and, when they connect, there's that brief moment that she nearly does. But she gives him only the tip of the iceberg instead and waits to see if he will dive.

And he does.

Tell me, his gruff voice requests before backtracking to give her the option of opting out. Oceane lingers here for a moment, her tongue pressing against the inside of her blunted teeth as she considers. The painted stallion pulls his wings away and folds them again to his sides, leaving cold air where their warm den had been. She looks briefly to the sky before she answers, tentatively.

"The Mountain," she starts, quite positive that he will know the types of things that occur there, "It brought Mchawi to me. He is — was — a member of the King's Court in Nau-Aib, where I am from." She hadn't spoken the name aloud since leaving the desert civilization. She'd rarely allowed herself to even think the name. "I was on the Court alongside him," each member had been blessed with the King's magik that painted their coats opalescent, a shining mark in the desert sun strewn between everything dull and sand-worn, "But it was not a good life."

She clears her throat as it threatens to tighten and turns her bright amber eyes back on Castile. Usually docile and analytic, they now appear alight with flame beneath the silver of the moon, an indication of the soulfire within her that could take full credit for the escape she'd made from Nau-Aib.

She would have died without it.

Resistant to offering him any more about her past lest it worsen her mood and dig up feelings she wishes not to feel, Oceane asks him casually about his sleeping habits. His gruff voice pulls her in again, his voice melting whatever reservations she had been experiencing and reigniting the chemistry that she enjoys each time she's in his presence.

Her nostrils flare to inhale his scent and, perhaps she should realize that his family's scent is stronger than all else but she does not, she revels in the closeness of him. "My savior," she whispers, nearly purring, as she calls back their previous conversation and the three wishes he'd granted her, "How can I repay you?"

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@[Castile]
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