02-17-2018, 03:27 PM
"I don't deserve you," she says into the silk of his feathers.
It is easy to touch him, so easy that it almost seems as if their time of not touching had never happened. But it had - she recalls it so clearly. There were years in the desert, in the chamber, in the meadow and the common grounds. One brief meeting and then another, year after year, decade after decade. They circled each other like magnets; each time she came closer he would pull away. She had been grateful for that too.
Djinni had never struggled before Walter.
Everything came - no, still comes - easily to her. She wishes and it is so, anything in the blink of an eye.
Walter is the only thing she hadn't wished for (there were times of course, when she was so very tempted). Yet here is is, warm and solid and waiting for her. When she inhales, he tastes of salt and wind, of the cold granite cliffs of Nerine.
This place is like nothing in their old world. It is soothing in a way the grey mare could never have imagined. The sea is ever-changing, from winter grey to summer green, a compliment to the mottled greys of the granite cliffs. A good home, she knows, made all the better by who she shares it with.
She pulls away only to meet his gaze, but she presses her muzzle to his golden cheek for moment first.
"Have I missed anything?"
It is easy to touch him, so easy that it almost seems as if their time of not touching had never happened. But it had - she recalls it so clearly. There were years in the desert, in the chamber, in the meadow and the common grounds. One brief meeting and then another, year after year, decade after decade. They circled each other like magnets; each time she came closer he would pull away. She had been grateful for that too.
Djinni had never struggled before Walter.
Everything came - no, still comes - easily to her. She wishes and it is so, anything in the blink of an eye.
Walter is the only thing she hadn't wished for (there were times of course, when she was so very tempted). Yet here is is, warm and solid and waiting for her. When she inhales, he tastes of salt and wind, of the cold granite cliffs of Nerine.
This place is like nothing in their old world. It is soothing in a way the grey mare could never have imagined. The sea is ever-changing, from winter grey to summer green, a compliment to the mottled greys of the granite cliffs. A good home, she knows, made all the better by who she shares it with.
She pulls away only to meet his gaze, but she presses her muzzle to his golden cheek for moment first.
"Have I missed anything?"