09-09-2021, 08:20 PM
I can see through you, see your true colors
Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
When it came to Aela, he had started to break.
The plea in Revelrie’s voice and the soft rattling death toll of his daughter had been too much. He hadn’t known that he had more left to break. How it shattered so peacefully, falling like snow until it hardened and sharpened, carved into his cruel shield and left him gasping.
She had smelled delicious, that still warm crumpled heap behind the winged mare. Such easy prey, these newborns. The snake had loomed above her, hungry eyes searching for a weakness to exploit. And she, the unstoppable storm that she was, had stood her ground and faced it. ”Go” She said, steady and firm. It was what she said next that somehow found him beneath the folds of scale and sinewy muscles, that heartfelt promise that sinks beneath the darkness and wraps around him in all that pain.
It is enough.
The snake backs down, hissing, but looking a little less hungry. It seems to be deciding something. Then, with a snap of retractable fangs, it turns and slithers into the rocky grounds leading far from the Pampas.
He had been gone for days.
When he returned he was instantly submerged back into the ever growing tornado of kingdom politics. There was too much on the line now. In a few days, this place may no longer be the breath of fresh air they had blown into it. He can feel that grip within him tightening, squeezing, as the scales across his coat grow in number and rarely fade. It seems it’s all going to lead to something.
He thinks it might be war.
He’s not sure he even knows the purpose of it. What it would even gain. A small chance of something? Or completely pointless, entirely avoidable?
When he is not being frigid in the company of his estranged family, when he is not looking at the golden Seneschal and still feeling the bite of her rejection, when he’s not dreaming of the Queen of Loess, he plans for what was to come. And finding her is part of it. He tracks the ghost and recognizes the new scent that now mingles with hers. His trepidation grows the more signs of them he finds but eventually… He finds her. Knowing it’s only because she wanted him to.
For awhile he can only stare at her, knowing what he should be saying but unable to actually say it. I’m sorry, he thinks. “May I join you?” he asks. He steps a little bit closer, his expression hard. "How are you?" he asks. Thank you, is what he means.
The plea in Revelrie’s voice and the soft rattling death toll of his daughter had been too much. He hadn’t known that he had more left to break. How it shattered so peacefully, falling like snow until it hardened and sharpened, carved into his cruel shield and left him gasping.
She had smelled delicious, that still warm crumpled heap behind the winged mare. Such easy prey, these newborns. The snake had loomed above her, hungry eyes searching for a weakness to exploit. And she, the unstoppable storm that she was, had stood her ground and faced it. ”Go” She said, steady and firm. It was what she said next that somehow found him beneath the folds of scale and sinewy muscles, that heartfelt promise that sinks beneath the darkness and wraps around him in all that pain.
It is enough.
The snake backs down, hissing, but looking a little less hungry. It seems to be deciding something. Then, with a snap of retractable fangs, it turns and slithers into the rocky grounds leading far from the Pampas.
He had been gone for days.
When he returned he was instantly submerged back into the ever growing tornado of kingdom politics. There was too much on the line now. In a few days, this place may no longer be the breath of fresh air they had blown into it. He can feel that grip within him tightening, squeezing, as the scales across his coat grow in number and rarely fade. It seems it’s all going to lead to something.
He thinks it might be war.
He’s not sure he even knows the purpose of it. What it would even gain. A small chance of something? Or completely pointless, entirely avoidable?
When he is not being frigid in the company of his estranged family, when he is not looking at the golden Seneschal and still feeling the bite of her rejection, when he’s not dreaming of the Queen of Loess, he plans for what was to come. And finding her is part of it. He tracks the ghost and recognizes the new scent that now mingles with hers. His trepidation grows the more signs of them he finds but eventually… He finds her. Knowing it’s only because she wanted him to.
For awhile he can only stare at her, knowing what he should be saying but unable to actually say it. I’m sorry, he thinks. “May I join you?” he asks. He steps a little bit closer, his expression hard. "How are you?" he asks. Thank you, is what he means.
obscene
@revelrie
![[Image: Obscene-Pixel.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/fTkjKh9Q/Obscene-Pixel.png){kind=tracking}