"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
Isn’t this just like him, to creep out of the darkness and emerge for no other reason besides him actually wanting to emerge? The Forest is heady with the smell of rotting foliage and dark, a damp sort of shade that thickens in the summer air. He’d always liked it here, almost as much as he’d liked clinging to the evergreens of his childhood home. Wyrm, though, had never been a child. More of a creature that had grown into a content monster.
Perhaps being immortal has its advantages, even if said asset is only remaining physically untouched for, well, ever. The bright green stallion has remained in perfect health, without a single line of disorder or age tarnishing him. Youth, he supposes, is a gift in and of itself. But he moves now (easily, as if he were meant to) between the trees with a strange sense of purpose guiding him … almost as if some unthinkable hand of fate is drawing him along. He personally cannot imagine why, there was nothing connecting him to this world or the next. His sire was out there somewhere probably breeding more useless whelps, his dam long gone - Kudu with her. The only other individual who springs to mind is the fiery spotted mare, but he’s struck her name from his tongue.
Weakness has never been within him, and he won’t allow a faded memory to drive him to the brink of insanity.
Besides, things were brewing. And by brewing, he means that he’d been dreaming. In his slumber he’d been connected with that part of himself the fairies had taken when they’d decided to punish them all, he’d been whole again, and the power had coursed through him while the vision turned to red. It was a craving so strong and undeniable that it pushed him from his stasis and sent him here again, where the others dwelled. “Time to live again, Wyrm,” He muses, heart pounding with each assertive step, “time to eat.”
It is incredible, to feel almost whole once more. Were it not for the cold pebble lodged deep in her heart, the tiny seed of revenge that begs to blossom, she would be truly, incredibly happy. But it is there, and so she plots and schemes instead.
But she is a patient woman. There are things that must fall into place before she can seek out the dastardly villain who had planted that seed. There are things she must do, plans she must see to, pieces she must be certain fit perfectly into place.
As it happens, one of those pieces is slinking through the forest at this very moment. While not necessary to her plans, it is one she nevertheless desires.
Though she had not gone to any great lengths to find him, she is glad that she has. It would certainly make things more… entertaining. Besides, he is the only creature she might actually call friend. Though perhaps a stretch, she has shared more with him than she has with anyone not related to her. So, by her standards, friend would do.
He is not difficult to locate, especially considering her talents. She finds him amongst the trees, a green wraith in the heavy shade of the forest. With the faintest trace of a smile tugging at her dark lips, she eases alongside him, blue eyes studying him with open appraisal. ”I've been looking for you.”
heartfire
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
It’s an uncanny habit for strong forces to somehow attract one another. Like magnets, neither distance nor time will dull the inevitable pull that brings both Wyrm and Heartfire curiously together at odd points in their lives. It would seem that no matter how hard the jaded boy tries, he cannot prevent the greater momentum of the universe around them. “F*cking destiny.” He mulls, “What an ugly bitch.” His lips, though, remain taught and unwilling to bend at her eager arrival. Where once a maniacal smile might have flashed for her, now only his bicolored eyes slide to the side in acknowledgement.
“I’ve been looking for you.” She tells him, already so completely sure of herself. It’s sickening, to suddenly be aware of just how highly Heartfire - no, she; He must remember, only she now - thought of herself. He doesn’t slow in his journey, only silently wonders how lonely it must be on her gilded pedestal. How kind of her, to reach out and grace him with her presence. Irritated now, the brightly painted stallion slows to a halt beneath an open patch of sunlight, turning his full attention to her while the pale dust motes come to settle on her speckled skin. With the slow inclination of his head his breathes her in, lungs filling with the very essence of her.
“You stink.” He grunts, tail snapping at his hind legs. “What is it that you want, hmm?” He prompts, settling comfortably at her side. A palomino stallion, with one wing … and curved horns. He remembers, trying not to lose sight of his re-awakening while drowning in her cold stare.
02-10-2017, 02:18 AM (This post was last modified: 02-19-2017, 01:44 PM by Heartfire.)
show them the joy and the pain and the ending
If she is confident, it is only because she has right to be. The world is not kind to anyone, not even Heartfire. But still she persevered. Still she had made something of herself.
And she would not have it any other way.
She had always enjoyed his company, and though he had always been somewhat curt, he was generally speaking companionable. Today however, he seems quite irritable. She is the same as ever, bold and forthright, but he is a bit different somehow. More recalcitrant.
One brow kicks up as she keeps pace with him until he deigns to stop in a small patch of sunlight. Her blue eyes, if anything, betray even more curiosity than before. His curt reply takes her back a bit, though it only serves to cause one corner of her mouth to quirk up in mild amusement.
She most certainly does not stink, whatever he might claim. Of this she is quite sure, but she does not call him out on it. Instead she responds, in a surprisingly mild tone, ”And you're an ass. But that's neither here nor there, is it?”
She falls silent then, studying his green frame as though she might discern the reasons for his recalcitrance by sight alone. Perhaps she could, were she to search deep enough. Still, she cannot read minds.
”You're in fine form today,” she continues, eyes narrowing the slightest bit as she fixes her gaze upon his own. ”Whoever said I wanted anything? Perhaps I came just for the pleasure of your company.”
heartfire
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
He hates that the sudden clenching of his teeth give him away. No one had ever had the right to push his buttons and here she was, smashing them with an upturned fist and smirking all the while. He’d never been the one to imagine that simply being near her again would drive him into this foul, black mood - but time has a way of changing things. “My company is no longer yours to keep.” He answers dully, one ear falling to the side in apparent boredom.
He could tell her, of course. It would be easier (or maybe harder?) to simply open up his mouth and reveal himself to the bright-eyed stranger, rip away the layers until he faced the very thing he was struggling so hard to bury just now. She might even like it, seeing him bent so low as to admit that every time he laid his eyes upon her now his flesh burned with a desire that even he had no control over. This incessant gnawing at his gut had begun to drive him mad, so much so that the thought of relief had the words pressing against his lips for freedom.
But he refused. To give her that part of himself would be to allow her a power he could never relinquish - not without comparable return. She would possess something of him that could destroy the very thing he’d worked so hard to become. No … not good enough. He knew that even beneath the cursory lust was something his speckled companion might never be able to give him, and it trumped all other hungers. He wanted those eyes to yearn for him as her equal, nothing more and nothing less. This Heartfire could only gaze downward.
“Be quick about it.” He pushes, moving away from her to rub the length of his supple body against the rough trunk of a nearby tree, dislodging the final tufts of a winter’s coat. “I’m making tracks to the mountain. Was going to find you afterwards, but now we can kill two birds with one stone. Convenient.” Wyrm barks, the sound something akin to mingled laughter and urgency. Without her so close and constantly in his vision, it was almost as if he could be the horse that she remembered … just enough to allow the air to fill his lungs again.
For all of her insight, she is really quite blind in one respect. It has never occurred to her that another might have a tendre for her, much less Wyrm. She has never considered herself particularly attractive or alluring. She is not ugly by any means, but her demeanor has always been quite effective in keeping potential lovers at bay.
Once upon a time, it might have had a purpose. Once upon a time, she had been in love with another, a dream. But as she had grown and aged, as those memories had faded, so had the memory of that love. And the recognition that past should remain buried there had set in. But by then it had been too late to change what had become her essential nature.
However much she might desire the close bond of what she had once felt, she did not dare express those feelings to anyone, much less to the green stallion before her. He is no kinder than she.
And so she remains true to her nature, true to everything she had become in the intervening years. Burying yearnings deep, refusing to acknowledge them, oblivious to the fallacy of this approach.
Were he to give her even the slightest inkling however, he might find her surprisingly receptive.
But she continues as she always has, because, as we already know, she cannot read minds even if she can see the past - secrets few others are privy to.
”Very convenient,” she responds softly, blue gaze considering him closely. He still had not given her reasons for his recalcitrance however. And she is not content with such a lack of knowledge. She sighs, glancing to the trees briefly before her gaze seeks out his. ”Do not make me pry, Wyrm.” And she would, without a qualm. ”Unless you are irked that I have not sought you out earlier, I can think of nothing I have done to offend you so.”
She pauses then, moving to close the gap he had created between, closer even. He seemed uncomfortable in her presence, but rather than give him space, she invaded it, pressing until she is nearly touching him. Testing. ”Besides, if you were intending to seek me out, clearly you cannot be too offended.”
heartfire
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
He is not, nor has he ever been, outwardly affectionate. Blame it on his family. Wyrm has survived for long enough on thrills and utter dominance - never once seeing the benefits of tenderness, affection, or filial companionship. But those things come for all of us in the end, even to those who liken themselves to mere creatures and nothing else. Copulation, the art of attraction, love - all just words until he’d seen her last. His sire had been enough reason to keep himself as distant from others as he could; there was no doubting that without control, Wyrm was dangerous. But there was something in the shape of Heartfire’s face, the defiance always in her eyes, her strange ability to be ancient and yet young.
It had broken him.
Her sigh is almost lost to him - carried away in the whispers of the trees that surround them. But his gifted ears are slowly sharpening enough now to hear the very heart within her, so he doesn’t miss it. Like an eggshell slowly being forced apart, the restrictions against him are withering with each passing hour. Her voice is a warm cadence that matches the pulse of the natural world around him, keen and then soothing. It lulls him to the point of becoming totally immobile, the crisp note of each footfall that brings her nearer to him like the jolt of a cymbal. They are clashing together, her voice and her steps, and he feels so very, very overwhelmed.
He moves much slower this time.
A faint clicking sound travels the length of his throat, unnatural and unexpected. His eyes, curious enough as they are, disappear behind weakly fluttering lids while his neck curves gently, each muscle straining beneath soft, emerald fur. Heartfire is so near to him now that it’s hard to only let his nose, wide and inhaling deeply, trail lightly over her cheek where the dust motes from earlier have settled. His lips part and a rattling breath spills over her tender skin while the moment draws out - ending with the sharp snap of his teeth closing together. “Still smelly.” He concludes.
“Tell me, Heartfire,” He whispers, allowing his lips to just briefly trace the line of her jaw. A light touch with the tip of his incisors, “where have you been?” - and then he pulls away. He doesn’t know, of course. He never could, not even if he wanted to. Not now … but the Heartfire he knows wouldn’t have put up with his attitude for all of the attention in the world. There must be a means to an end here. “I’ve missed you.” He tells her.
And then he moves away, continuing his journey but not without a cursory glance back for her to follow. They would have to walk and talk now, standing still seemed to cause too much trouble.
She has never had reason to eschew love. Not in the traditional sense, at least. Indeed, her parents are very much in love. The perfect picture of filial harmony and devotion. Of the good the love can bring to a being. But Heartfire is perhaps more world weary, more cynical. With her unique ability to view the world through the eyes of others, she has a perspective of what truly happens out there that few others can ever hope to have.
And there is no doubt it has hardened her. If she hadn’t been fortunate enough to experience love in her youth, she might now be even colder, crueler, more callous than she currently is. Whatever the reasons, her experiences have made her what she is. Have turned her into this creature that instills both longing and frustration into her green companion, even if she will never be aware of it.
Whatever her longings are however, she keeps them deep within her breast. Perhaps age has made her sentimental, but she would never let the world know that.
His proclamation causes her a rare exasperation, tinged by just a hint of amusement. Pinning dark ears against her crest, she returns his sharp snap with one of her own. A warning and a statement.
His whispered words, the gentle caress against her jaw, soothe her from her ire however. Even if it does seem a bit trite. She allows the smile back onto her lips as her bright blue eyes glitter. ”Oh, here and there.”
Shifting, she trails her muzzle along his neck, nibbling lightly at his green locks. As he moves away, she allows her lips to drift along his shoulder, back, hip (a reminder, a faint promise), before tucking her chin once more and considering his retreating form.
After a moment, she follows him, allowing his surprising admission to sink in, to warm her skin. She tucks it safely away, something to consider later.
She catches him easily enough, gaze considering as she matches his easy pace. ”You were right, I suppose. But I think you’ll enjoy the reason I have come well enough.” She pauses then, considering how best to word her desires. ”I have made an enemy, it seems. One I would very much like to see brought down. I thought perhaps you might like the excuse to… practice your talents.”
Not that she could not handle this particular enemy on her own. But she would enjoy it so much better with Wyrm at her side.
heartfire
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
There she is. In the snap between them it’s almost like old times, when he’d been young and obsessed with continuing his father’s horrible glory-trail. Her rare affection afterwards, however, takes him back to a time when he’d been King himself for a day … a time when he’d wanted her by his side to rule. It’d been an endeavor he would lose interest in (rather quickly) but it reminded him that she’d never said no to him, only asked what price he might pay for her help. His skin burns where her touch lingers.
“I’m always right, get used to it.” He quips, smirking quickly as she continues. Their paired legs make easy work of the woods before them, neither one pausing to untangle or clear the path. Her admission piques his interest, the word enemy falling like a hard weight as compared to the buoyancy of her continued conversation. Who would have been stupid enough to provoke her … and then get away with it? He’s not even aware that his teeth are grinding together again, but his head tips lightly in her direction to answer.
“It would be my pleasure to have you watch them suffer.” He tells her flatly, feeling that old sensation of pure energy begin to rush through him. To tear, smell the sickly sweet tang of copper blood, taste the fear and see death hovering once more close by would be … well, it would be fantastic. They reach a subtle fork in the path, worn down more so on one side than the other and Wyrm stops, turning to face her with his unsettling gaze. “I’m wanting - no … hoping that you can give me a … someone in return.”
His request is quick, the trees around them swaying while the two converse before diverging.
After, there is only the slanting (and quickly fading) sunlight. Wyrm doesn’t think on it, only asks where he might find her while his nose hovers over her shoulder. It’s getting late, and once again Heartfire has altered him.
HTML by Cal and Toli
OOC: Figured we could tie this thread up w/bby stuff at the end, if that's okay with you! If not, I can change all of it <3
There is something about him that brings out the old Heartfire. The willful child that used to reside in her, still tucked away somewhere deep. For all her coolness, she cannot seem resist that occasional flare of temper. The fire in her soul that speaks so eloquently to her name.
Indeed, even his arrogant response causes a rather childish reaction. Blue eyes rolling
heavenwards, she works to control the twitch of her lips that betray her amusement.
This is the Wyrm she remembers. The Wyrm she has missed (though she would never admit such a thing, would deny it if asked).
His next words send a thrill across her flesh, a shiver of near pleasure racing across her blue and white skin. The promise in his words is delightful, and she does not bother to hide the smile that curves her lips at the promise.
She is not sure she wishes this enemy dead. No, it would be so much more satisfying to watch him suffer.
His request gives her pause, however. A stillness comes over her features as her blue gaze finds his. A heavy pause descends until her soft voice finally breaks the repetitive sound of steady footfalls and rustling foliage. ”A… someone?”
She has never had anyone request a living being from her before. She is not certain she cares for the idea of Wyrm asking her to bring him someone else.
Not once does it occur to her that a child might be his intention.
heartfire
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
