05-26-2020, 12:52 PM
If ever you come near I'll hold up high a mirror
OphaniM
He’s almost sad to watch the little row of children following along after Malone, especially the glowing twin girls. But he blinks away tears and reminds himself that he always knew he would be a grandfather one day. It seems like just last spring that Malone was born, his first baby with Starsin and the perfect blend of them both. A dreamy sigh slips from him as he watches them disappear toward Loess and then he turns to head deeper into Sylva. As much as his heart bursts with love for their family, they haven’t had a moment to themselves in many years.
How funny, he thinks, that they’ve already been together this long.
Ophanim carefully plucks little flowers he finds in the undergrowth, gathering them in a little pile arranged by size and color. He doesn’t have much of an eye for aesthetics, but no one can ever say he doesn’t try. Next he gathers apples from the various trees burdened with the weight of them. They remain a bit out of his short reach but he manages to tug them from the branches with little hops or flaps of his wings. If he were just a little taller, this wouldn’t be such a chore, but Starsin is more than worth it.
As he carefully places the seventh apple, he admires his treasure trove of gifts for her. But it needs something more. He hums softly in thought as he scans his surroundings with those bright blue eyes. He could lay himself atop the pile and declare he is the greatest gift? No, she rolls her eyes at him enough as it is. A laugh tumbles from his lips as he imagines it anyway.
Instead, he lowers his head to one of the little red mushrooms sprouting around the roots of the Sylvan trees. It smells nice. Maybe they taste good? Ophie carefully harvests a few of the caps and places them around the flowers just in case she informs him they’re poisonous. By not mixing them among the apples, he gives himself some deniability. The sound of someone approaching makes him lift his head suddenly, his halo rocking back and forth in its golden glow until it steadies above his head. He offers one of his eager smiles when he spots her.
“Happy anniverthary Thtarthin!” he says, only now realizing his tongue is numb.
How funny, he thinks, that they’ve already been together this long.
Ophanim carefully plucks little flowers he finds in the undergrowth, gathering them in a little pile arranged by size and color. He doesn’t have much of an eye for aesthetics, but no one can ever say he doesn’t try. Next he gathers apples from the various trees burdened with the weight of them. They remain a bit out of his short reach but he manages to tug them from the branches with little hops or flaps of his wings. If he were just a little taller, this wouldn’t be such a chore, but Starsin is more than worth it.
As he carefully places the seventh apple, he admires his treasure trove of gifts for her. But it needs something more. He hums softly in thought as he scans his surroundings with those bright blue eyes. He could lay himself atop the pile and declare he is the greatest gift? No, she rolls her eyes at him enough as it is. A laugh tumbles from his lips as he imagines it anyway.
Instead, he lowers his head to one of the little red mushrooms sprouting around the roots of the Sylvan trees. It smells nice. Maybe they taste good? Ophie carefully harvests a few of the caps and places them around the flowers just in case she informs him they’re poisonous. By not mixing them among the apples, he gives himself some deniability. The sound of someone approaching makes him lift his head suddenly, his halo rocking back and forth in its golden glow until it steadies above his head. He offers one of his eager smiles when he spots her.
“Happy anniverthary Thtarthin!” he says, only now realizing his tongue is numb.
Lord, I could never show you anything as beautiful as you.
@[Starsin]