"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
06-25-2017, 01:23 PM (This post was last modified: 07-12-2017, 07:31 PM by Zenith.)
Through despair and hope, Through faith and love. Till we find our place, on the path unwinding.
Somewhere near the middle of the meadow a boulder protrudes from the amber waves of grasses, granite and as large as a horse. A lion reclines atop the boulder, nibbling and licking one of his enormous paws to remove the blood from his toes. A little carcass, cleaned and glowing ivory in the autumn sunlight lays in a pile beside him.
Zenith receives a lot of satisfaction from grooming himself well, it’s probably the cat in him. And he takes his time, nearly purring from the delicious combination of sunlight, a full belly and a good bath. That is, until movement across the meadow catches his eye. Then he is purring.
A mare moves in the distance. Crossing his paws, he bring his broad face into the air and lets out a rumbling whuff. A toss of his head beckons her closer, and the movement seems more equine than feline. But the bright red stains around his nails draws his attention again, and he returns to diligently removing the blood from each claw.
As nice as grooming is, he can't help but keeping an eye and an ear trained on the mare. A pretty thing like her is the only thing that could make this day even better.
Excuse the word vomit, lol. Lirren has always been great for rambling posts :|
And inside you're burning with some secret yearning
The dying sunlight stretches across amber grasses of the late autumn meadow, staining the earth in shades of red and gold. The day has begun to give way to the night, and the creatures who live amongst its shadowy reaches have begun to stir themselves. Creatures that include the a mare of red and blue who calls the night her own. Her lithe figure makes a path through the golden waves, the late sunlight gleaming on her burnished coat, highlighting the bright, glimmering teal of her shifting locks, touching her lips, her long, slender legs. But she is paying little attention to her surroundings, to the the fellow equines that may or may not share the vast space with her, to the glorious sunset.
No, she is too caught up in the power that floods her veins. The power that had been so callously stolen from her, that had been just as carelessly returned to her. For the first time in what feels like years, she can truly breath. A heavy weight lifted from her slender shoulders, a terrible burden taken so easily from her. How anyone could consider these traits, these gifts, a burden, she cannot fathom.
To her, it had always been life. She is a creature of the stars, and she has been given back to them.
The smile that curves her lips as she makes her way steadily across the meadow is lovely, intriguing and beautiful in a way difficult to define. It is not her fine features or slim frame, assets that, while attractive enough, are otherwise rather ordinary. No, it is the mien, the aura, that hovers perpetually around her. Something ephemeral and elusive, indefinable. There is clear enjoyment in her features. Something in the way that she relishes the sun, knowing it would so soon give way to night, to the expansive, exquisite display of stars. Her stars.
So it should come as no surprise that it takes her a few moments to notice the lion lounging leisurely on a bolder only a short distance away from her. The sudden awareness should be alarming, but she can only find it within herself to offer faint curiosity. No, what intrigues her more is the way he cleans his paws, rough, lapping tongue wiping away every trace of blood that the still lingers. The telltale bones resting so close, a picture worth a thousand words.
Slipping closer, she pauses near the bones, inspecting them with open interest before turning, easing closer to the shaggy lion. Her bright silvery gaze moves over him, briefly touching every inch of the massive cat, no fear evident in her bearing. Despite appearances, she is far from powerless. And this cat, he exudes an aura of satisfaction, of interest. Nothing dangerous, but definitely intriguing.
“You missed a spot,” she finally says by way of greeting, her voice low and smooth, as she indicates one wide paw with an elegant motion. One can almost discern a faint, rusty discoloration there. So faint in fact, one might even question whether it was there at all, or whether she were simply saying so.
Through despair and hope, Through faith and love. Till we find our place, on the path unwinding.
She is beautifully preoccupied. Her eyes are restless with no fixed point, yet her mind is obviously engaged. A smile curves her seafoam lips like the crescent moon which has just begun to show. He isn’t the romantic type but the faint glimmer of starlight around her intrigues him, keeping his eye from wandering to another passing mare.
He continues to observe her over the blood stain he diligently cleans. When she finally seems to notice him, her look of faint interest causes him to look back to his work. Not out of shyness - but as his next move in the game he hopes they are playing.
She boldly approaches him just as he had hoped and his satisfaction grows. He can feel the places her eyes touch, their reckless evaluation of his form excites him. He is beautiful, this lion, and he doesn't mind being objectified in the least. Zenith carries on with his work under her roving eye, content to exhibit. I’ll show you whatever you want to see. She is so close now, he can smell her sweet herbivores breath and the metallic blood flowing in little rivers just under her skin. So close. These bold mares, how he loves them.
You missed a spot
Did he now? Hmm he says with exaggerated interest in the spot which she gestured to. He turns the broad gold paw over inspecting the other side. Cocking a brow he brings his eyes to hers for the first time.
“I don’t miss.” A half grin reveals his lion’s incisors, white and clean, and his eyes sparkle with a mischief not altogether innocent. He had been born with bravo and confidence, he had aged into his nonchalance. “But, if you say so..." the grin widens into a jagged smile "would you get it for me?” His amber eyes don't leave hers as he reaches out to her, a single claw extended to gently brush her lower lip. Trembling or pouting he had a feeling that blue lip looked just as delicious either way.
ZENITH
@[Lirren] beautiful sparkly word vomit if you must call it that <3
Sorry for the delay
