05-04-2021, 07:28 PM
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“Yenny!” Cheri’s voice snaps the tobiano’s mind away from fully concentrating on slowing his breathing to avoid hyperventilating. Not only his mind but also his neck; Targaryen’s moves so quickly he is certain he’ll feel the effects by the end of the day. The sight of Cheri eases any momentary pain, leaving behind a warmth that fills him completely.
Each time Targaryen sees the appaloosa, she seems to have gotten prettier. And each time, he becomes more aware of a growing adoration. He isn’t entirely comfortable with emotion, mainly because he isn’t sure it should be associated with his best friend. Cheri is more like his sister than anything else, so he thinks, and it feels wrong to feel the extremely protective, masculine, obsessed ways he does about her.
The tendrils of her hair make his heart twist, and without thinking, he leans forward to brush them away from her face. The flowers smell sweet (her skin smells even sweeter), and Targaryen accidentally lets out a smooth, warm nicker that might belie the deeper corners of his heart. As he realizes what he’s just done, the tobiano takes a quick step backward and looks nervously toward where the ocean and the sky meet. He hadn’t known his heart could beat faster than it already was, but he’s surprised to find that it does.
When Cheri suggests leaving, the stallion clears his throat and unfurls his wings. His soft brown eyes catch the warm glow of her wings, and his gaze lingers there. Targaryen cannot help but think — again — about how beautiful his best friend is, about how lucky he is that she accepted his casual suggestion to visit the festival together. “You didn’t. Let’s go freeze our wings off,” he says, hoping the humor will offset the nerves and confusion that is building in his stomach.
They take flight together, and the ease of their movements highlights just how many times they have done this. The natural dance of their take-off and the similar pattern of their wing-strokes bring a sense of comfort to Targaryen. As they head toward the frozen island, the tobiano tells a story about one of the times they raced from one end of Taiga to the other and how he very clearly had won.
Each time Targaryen sees the appaloosa, she seems to have gotten prettier. And each time, he becomes more aware of a growing adoration. He isn’t entirely comfortable with emotion, mainly because he isn’t sure it should be associated with his best friend. Cheri is more like his sister than anything else, so he thinks, and it feels wrong to feel the extremely protective, masculine, obsessed ways he does about her.
The tendrils of her hair make his heart twist, and without thinking, he leans forward to brush them away from her face. The flowers smell sweet (her skin smells even sweeter), and Targaryen accidentally lets out a smooth, warm nicker that might belie the deeper corners of his heart. As he realizes what he’s just done, the tobiano takes a quick step backward and looks nervously toward where the ocean and the sky meet. He hadn’t known his heart could beat faster than it already was, but he’s surprised to find that it does.
When Cheri suggests leaving, the stallion clears his throat and unfurls his wings. His soft brown eyes catch the warm glow of her wings, and his gaze lingers there. Targaryen cannot help but think — again — about how beautiful his best friend is, about how lucky he is that she accepted his casual suggestion to visit the festival together. “You didn’t. Let’s go freeze our wings off,” he says, hoping the humor will offset the nerves and confusion that is building in his stomach.
They take flight together, and the ease of their movements highlights just how many times they have done this. The natural dance of their take-off and the similar pattern of their wing-strokes bring a sense of comfort to Targaryen. As they head toward the frozen island, the tobiano tells a story about one of the times they raced from one end of Taiga to the other and how he very clearly had won.
@[Cheri]