"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
Though the land had settled, he remains restless, on edge. It is unlike him, to feel such unease, but it had been a curious feeling, to watch the land he has called home for so long now nearly come apart at the seams. He had been torn then, between racing to the front lines or remaining to ensure his family’s safety. His family had won, of course, as they always would. But still he wonders, might Tephra not have suffered so had he chose differently?
It’s a curious feeling for one who is usually beset by no more than wicked curiosity. But, he supposes life cannot always be so simple or easy. And certainly this did not feel easy.
To watch the volcano buckle beneath the pressure, to spew forth deadly burning rock, had been both terrifying and awe-inspiring. He had protected them from it’s rage, his ice combating it’s impossible heat. Hardening rock until it is left benign, an almost innocuous reminder of the deadly force their home has sleeping beneath its surface.
He hopes then that he would not be called upon to do such things often. What had once been a sanctuary had felt little like one for a time. Even still unease reaches creeping fingers across the land. But then, it seems everywhere had been a bit volatile lately. Still, he watches and he wonders. Lynx would know his thoughts of course, but he does wonder about hers.
After a moment, he turns. She is not far. He had been loathe to leave her or their children. Though he has faith in Lynx and her abilities, there is a certain amount of protection he could afford them that she could not should their home fall into chaos once more. He would not (could not) fail them.
A faint smile quirks his lips as he reaches forward, pressing a light kiss to the bridge of her lovely nose. His eyes gleam briefly with a familiar warmth and humor, irrepressible even in the face of everything these last few weeks had wrought. “I think the beach has been missing your beauty,” he grins, features brightening momentarily. “Shall we?”
How could she possibly ever explain to him the depth of her fear as the war hit Tephra?
How could she possibly begin to explain how she everything that she has come to love so dearly fall between her fingers. How she had nearly lost her son and daughters. How she had nearly lost him. It had driven her nearly mad—the screams of those in the war (both out loud and in their head) coupled with her own internal fear. It had nearly taken her to the edge and she had thought about leaving.
It was easier to cut ties herself than risk having them severed.
It was just easier to not care at all then care so much and be crushed with the loss.
But, eventually, she settles. Fox protects them. They are safe. They even have new life. It is enough and she does her best to hide the nightmares that plague her at night. She does her best to pretend that she does not wake in a cold sweat after dreaming of complete darkness or the way that the volcano looked when it was spitting fire up into the sky, when it was raining down on the place they made their home.
Today, her children are off on their own adventures, and she does her best to pretend that she is not worried. That she does not dream of the time when war will come again and she won’t be near them. It is only when he comes over, kissing her nose and smiling down at her that she relaxes even a little, her dual-colored eyes softening and hiding the bruises that rest just beneath the surface of them.
“I suppose I could be talked into it,” she smiles at him, feeling safer next to him than she has in weeks.
It’s troubling, to see the drawn expression on her lovely features that she so swiftly tries to mask from him. He had always worked so hard to tease the woman from beneath the stern exterior she so often presents, only to have the very land work to undo his progress. The very home they had so long assumed safe. A sanctuary. He knows there is so much she hadn’t shared with him, knows she is doing her best to keep him from seeing her fear and uncertainty.
It aches, to know that and yet not quite know how to combat it. He can tease and reassure, but serious situations had never been his strong suit. And he wonders sometimes if she had begun to second-guess her choices. Wonders sometimes if she fears he isn’t truly able to protect them.
Sometimes he even wonders if he can.
But for the first time since they had met, he is uncertain. It’s not a feeling he is accustomed to, nor one he particularly cares for. Perhaps it is his own thoughts that had caused her withdrawn worry.
Then, for a moment, as he affectionately kisses her, he sees the way she softens. Even if it is only for a moment, he sees it. And he knows she is still here because she wants to be. She could have fled, but she hadn’t. Their family meant more than whatever worry plagues her. If only he could find the words to convince her she could always confide in him.
Rubbing his lips along the elegant curve of her cheek, he lips lightly at her skin before turning, his shoulder brushing hers and he lifts his head towards the beach. Glancing back at her, that teasing grin toys with his lips as he quips, “You suppose, hmm?” His amber eyes glint faintly as he glances at the water, then back at her before leaning closer, his voice a low, faux-whisper. “I bet I could sweeten the deal.”
She can feel the edges of his thoughts as they rest outside the perimeter of her own, but they never sink in enough for her to actually feel their teeth. She does her best to give him his privacy these days; she chooses instead to talk to him, to ask him questions, rather than just opening up her gift and rooting through his mind like she had in the past. It is one of the many ways that he has softened her edges; it is one of the many ways that she has learned how to be less of herself—at least of her old self.
In the past, her fear would have driven her to snap at him and, in some ways, she still might.
But she bites down on it and instead forces herself to take deep, steadying breaths. She focuses on the way that her chest swells with it, focuses on the oxygen as it runs through her, until she relaxes into it. Her runs his lips along her and there is something that sparks beneath it all, turning her dual-colored eyes slightly rakish as she takes him in, her forelock disheveled and her mouth curled ever so slightly.
“You always did have a way with negotiations,” she teases softly, thinking back to some of the first times that they had interacted. First, as children, and then, much later when they were anything but. She reaches over to bite at the corner of his lip, the touch starting rough and then gentler as she pulls back.
“I could use a distraction,” she admits softly before reaching up to ruffle his forelock. “But I bet that I can beat you there.” Before she can stop to think about how silly she looks, she leaps forward, her sloping hindquarters pushing off and sending her flying down to the beach with her laughter trailing behind her.
These are the moments he had always loved. The ones he had always cherished. The times when the world could be forgotten for a while and they could simply be themselves. When they could lose themselves in happiness and playful banter.
Lynx had always resisted such things, but Fox, for all his boyish, teasing demeanor, is equally stubborn and persistent. She had always needed reminding that life is about more than dark thoughts and worry. And Fox had always been happy to provide. Now though, it seems she is the one who is reminding him.
As she nibbles at his lips, her eyes alight sinful charm, lips curling in a decidedly impish way, a sudden realization washes through him.
They complete each other. In the very best of ways.
If he hadn’t known it before, he would have known then how very much he had grown to love her. His own lips curl in response to that infectious teasing of hers, and he sidles closer, lipping at the delicate hollow above her mouth as though he might draw her back to him when she pulls back. His amber eyes dancing, he replies in a low, decidedly flirty tone, “Only when it truly matters.”
But then she is tossing out her challenge before slipping so easily from his grasp. Head lifting abruptly, a startled laugh escapes his lips as he stares at her retreating haunches. It takes a moment for his thoughts to catch-up, but when they do, his own hooves are digging into the soft loam as he charges after her.
She is not surprised that he so quickly takes after her.
She feels his thoughts and the sudden rush of surprise and then excitement as he takes after her and she laughs, loose and low and completely carefree. There is a spray of sand behind her as she gets to the beach and feels the sun as it falls down on the slope of her back. The air is salty and only slightly tinged with the sulphur that she has grown so accustomed to and she feels something like happiness take root.
Devilish, she drops her hindquarters and comes to a sliding stop down the beach, gritting her teeth at the sudden pain in sand rubbing against her legs and then laughing as she pushes off and lunges to the side. It does not take long until she is running into the water, the foamy waves crashing up against her splotchy chest. It is cool and satisfying and she laughs as the water rushes up above her back.
Glancing back, she looks to find him, the water causing her hair to stick to her elegant face.
But she doesn’t pause. Instead, she dives forward against the tide and continues to swim, legs churning as she gets deep enough to let loose of her hold on the floor beneath her. She kicks out, following the path that she had uncovered on one of her many days of wandering, only angling when she comes around a corner and she feels the water getting stiller—the ground rising up once more to reach her.
Without a word, she crosses the sandbar and then emerges into the lagoon, finding a place shallow enough to stand, the teal water sitting still around her knees. She finally flicks her dual-colored gaze up to watch him and she sighs, gesturing around them. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
Like an over-eager, unpracticed boy, he follows her. She must have known he would, and he is certainly not one to disappoint. With a delighted grin stretching his lips, he barrels forward, feet digging into the soft sand, barely noticing the gritty tingle where his hooves pelt it into his belly and legs.
When she suddenly slides to a halt, sand spraying about her, Fox’s head comes sharply up as he too slams on the brakes to avoid crashing into her. The childish playfulness of it brings another laugh rumbling from his chest, and as she spins to charge towards the ocean, he snakes his nose out to aim a light-heartedly retaliatory nip at her sleek haunches.
He pauses a minute to admire the graceful way in which her body moves, the smooth strides so unconsciously feminine even in their practiced efficiency. And, well, he’d be lying if he said the sight didn’t give him a few lascivious thoughts to toy with.
Grin widening, he launches after her, crashing into the surf to follow her across the warm waves to the small, delightfully cozy (and private) sand bar she’d chosen. Of course, he does have to wonder if she’d brought him here for any particular reason. The moment the thought crosses his mind, he half-expects her to favor him with a scowl. But we already know how irrepressible Fox can, and if she did, she’d be met only with a decidedly unrepentant smile.
“Gorgeous,” he replies easily to her question, amber eyes twinkling merrily. They’d never actually left her though. “I suppose this place is too,” he adds teasingly as he presses closer, wet skin brushing against hers, lips placing a warm, tender kiss on her shoulder. Only then does he turn his attention to their surroundings, openly admiring the peaceful, almost lazy feeling of the small cove she’d managed to find. “Hmmmm.” His voice is almost thoughtful as he considers the lagoon. “Seems very private. Almost as if it was made for trysts, wouldn’t you say?”
He turns his gaze on her, the faux-seriousness nearly impossible for him to maintain in light of his rather wayward amusement.
