let my shadows prove the sunshine
Why is it that whenever a new path opens for him, he is suddenly whisked away? The lion had taken much of his time from him (more than he would care to count) and Carnage the same - then the world itself devoured him. He wonders if he is cursed, not meant to be in this world yet somehow able to return to it, with time stripped away and a new scar to remind him that in some way he does not belong.
The tidepool is warm as its tiny ripples lap at his ankles, tiny silvered minnows that had gotten caught up within the tide tickling him as they brush past, mistaking the ivory and gold hair for food. Svedka barely notices this feeling, of course, for the bright cerulean of his gaze remains on the deep tawny silhouette of Vastra - once she had stepped from the shadows and brought herself into the warmth of the Tephran sunlight.
She is as he remembers (and perhaps that mean not too much time had truly been lost, though the thought spurs a coldness in his stomach he can’t yet face) - steely gray eyes that somehow burn and freeze him all at once, the scent of the wind on her striped downy feathers and even her voice, smooth as silk yet heavy enough to keep him fully attentive. As her confession falls from her tawny lips, however, there is something he is certain he does not remember.
Svedka notices before her and something so spectacular could be the only thing that averted his eyes from her. He snorts softly, lifting his head with surprise at the gentle twinkle that alights across her entire body - completely magical and glittering. Svedka’s mouth is slightly agape as a little laugh escapes him, half in awe and half in surprise, when Vastra rushes him. His laugh is cut short and his own ears fall back as well, straightening himself and preparing to pivot away from her if needed. Though it is one reason he is drawn to her, Svedka can never be too sure of her next move.
When it is clear she does not mean to attack him, the stallion relaxes. He stretches his neck towards her, huffing gently with the wrinkled pink of his nose. “I’ve been called worse,” he murmurs playfully, stepping towards her in a sweeping movement so they are nearly chest to chest, nibbling at her crest. A bold move after being gone for so long, but worth any pain she may inflict from such a tender gesture.
“You seem as surprised as I am,” Svedka comments, his light blue eyes reflecting with the sparkles of her skin.
svedka
@[Vastra]