09-26-2021, 11:47 PM
Desire
When he speaks his voice is so soft, and when he stands on those clearly still-new legs there is finally something that tugs inside of her chest. A glimmer of empathy, as she is reminded of what each of her children had looked like at that age, but also a twist of something closer to anger as she wonders who was careless enough to let their newborn wander off. She had been raised by a mother that, for all her flaws, loved her beyond measure, and had instilled in Desire what was likely her only thread of kindness.
A thread that is strong enough to cause her impassive expression to relent into something kinder, and her voice softens when she answers him, “If you want to stay, I will not turn you away.” She studies him again, looking past the fact that he is a lone child stumbling across her borders. There is something different about him, something that she cannot quite place, and she makes no attempt to hide the way that she analyzes him. Her gaze sweeps him up and down, noting the brilliant gleam to his skin, but otherwise she cannot find anything that acts as proof for her theory.
She will have him stay, just in case whatever secret he is harboring is interesting, and perhaps useful.
“My name is Desire,” she tells him once her eyes have drifted back to his face, the introduction spoken with a slight smile. “Don’t you think your mother might be looking for you?”
A thread that is strong enough to cause her impassive expression to relent into something kinder, and her voice softens when she answers him, “If you want to stay, I will not turn you away.” She studies him again, looking past the fact that he is a lone child stumbling across her borders. There is something different about him, something that she cannot quite place, and she makes no attempt to hide the way that she analyzes him. Her gaze sweeps him up and down, noting the brilliant gleam to his skin, but otherwise she cannot find anything that acts as proof for her theory.
She will have him stay, just in case whatever secret he is harboring is interesting, and perhaps useful.
“My name is Desire,” she tells him once her eyes have drifted back to his face, the introduction spoken with a slight smile. “Don’t you think your mother might be looking for you?”
so we're slaves to any semblance of touch, lord we should quit, but we love it too much
@nazghul