i never wanted saving, i just wanted to be found --
She comes from a family of quick-tempers, but despite the way her moods might swing like a pendulum, she is mild in comparison. She has never known her mother to hold back her viper tongue, just she has never known her father to be unafraid of showing his kelpie teeth. She is not nearly as sharp as her parents, though. The only true weapon she has is being beautiful, but there are many that could claim such a thing, and it felt like such an ordinary sword to wield. It did not matter that her beauty is an unnatural thing—razor-edged and dangerous, it was meant to be a siren’s call, not a sweet lullaby—and that she could, if she wanted, easily ensnare anyone that she might put her mind to.
She never did, though. While coy and flirtatious, she never took it across that line, perhaps because she did not entirely inherit the predators’ blood that both her parents carried.
And because she is still simply a girl, with insecurities that she kept hidden underneath her frosted scales and locked behind bright blue eyes. She had enough awareness to know that tricking someone into wanting her is not a game she wanted to play.
For a brief second there is something uncertain that flashes quickly in her eyes when he reminds her of how he had said he would come back, though it glints as fast as sunlight on the water—there and gone in an instant. It is the realization that she would have been disappointed if he had not kept his word, though she does not think she is ready to admit that quite yet. “So you did,” she concedes with a low laugh, stepping toward him just as he reaches for her, letting her golden muzzle sweep across his shoulder. His wings catch her eye again being in such close proximity, and she reaches to lightly brush her nose across the feathers. “Are they heavy? They seem like they would be.” Her own wings—currently absent at the moment, since they stood in the middle of the forest—gave the illusion of being light, being made of water, but something about his made her shoulders ache.
Maybe she just isn’t meant to understand things that don’t come from the water.
His question causes a momentarily shadow to fall across her face, her jaw tensing just slightly. “I don’t think I like it,” she says a bit tersely, following his gaze to the fog that lingered at the edge of the forest. But almost immediately she regrets the annoyance that she had allowed to sharpen her tone, and when she looks back at him her face has softened apologetically. “At least there’s far less water. That’s nice. For you, I guess,” this time she sweetens the sarcasm with a teasing smile, feeling some of her previous agitation continue to fade. “And you must be relieved to see some of the lands you were previously familiar with return, I assume?”
She never did, though. While coy and flirtatious, she never took it across that line, perhaps because she did not entirely inherit the predators’ blood that both her parents carried.
And because she is still simply a girl, with insecurities that she kept hidden underneath her frosted scales and locked behind bright blue eyes. She had enough awareness to know that tricking someone into wanting her is not a game she wanted to play.
For a brief second there is something uncertain that flashes quickly in her eyes when he reminds her of how he had said he would come back, though it glints as fast as sunlight on the water—there and gone in an instant. It is the realization that she would have been disappointed if he had not kept his word, though she does not think she is ready to admit that quite yet. “So you did,” she concedes with a low laugh, stepping toward him just as he reaches for her, letting her golden muzzle sweep across his shoulder. His wings catch her eye again being in such close proximity, and she reaches to lightly brush her nose across the feathers. “Are they heavy? They seem like they would be.” Her own wings—currently absent at the moment, since they stood in the middle of the forest—gave the illusion of being light, being made of water, but something about his made her shoulders ache.
Maybe she just isn’t meant to understand things that don’t come from the water.
His question causes a momentarily shadow to fall across her face, her jaw tensing just slightly. “I don’t think I like it,” she says a bit tersely, following his gaze to the fog that lingered at the edge of the forest. But almost immediately she regrets the annoyance that she had allowed to sharpen her tone, and when she looks back at him her face has softened apologetically. “At least there’s far less water. That’s nice. For you, I guess,” this time she sweetens the sarcasm with a teasing smile, feeling some of her previous agitation continue to fade. “And you must be relieved to see some of the lands you were previously familiar with return, I assume?”
adriana
@assailant