09-12-2019, 09:28 AM
The dreams that had infiltrated Olver’s mind over the slow, passing years were made of silver and gold, dandelions and soft things. They were full of all the finest things carried by chivalrous hands. The scent of soft lavender and rose are the smells that wrapped their sweet fingers to his soft cheeks. He was a boy that in a sense was forgotten, he had been loved once upon a time by a doting mother and a harsh father who had been weathered down by his mother's love. But one always grows tired of the quite, when you ask and receive no answer in return, when all you want to do is fight and all you get is an empty face.
He moved on with his life, or where they the ones that had moved on? It did little good resting on such things, but when you can’t talk all that's left to do is think. Olver in all his dulled fire hide and abandoned green eyes had spent many nights tucked away on his own with absolutely no one. He had never experienced a very finalized loss like death, sweeping in and claiming those you hold dear, but is it not worse to lose those you love because they chose to leave you?
The snow fell silently into his red shaggy coat and his steps left behind a ghost of who he once was as the winter's sun began to hide behind the horizons protection once again. There, a woman traced in sun’s last breath stood face to face with a damaged creature - the pain evident in the way it held itself and tried to defend itself in the most pathetic of ways, no running only it’s voice left to say what its paws could no longer do. Olver’s eyes watch in tender curiosity as he watched the familiar mare close her eyes and pull to a place deep within. A perfect smile dances across his lips as the white light begins to dance from her to the creature in the most romantic of ways, soft and magical. The light reflected off her face and all that was near, it was as if this perfect crimson woman had been outlined in the angels light itself. The light became so blindingly white that Olver had to shut his eyes, a permanent picture of the perfect moment tattooed on the back side of his eyelids.
When he finally opened his eyes the light was gone and all that remained was an ordinary woman whose light was gently fading into the cold winter's night. He stepped forward from the canopy of low hanging trees into the darkness of the world, towards that perfect moment that was still engraved into the very front of his thoughts, towards Lilliana. His green eyes blazed with awe and appreciation for what she could do. That was beautiful, what you just did his voice came out deep, and gravely. It held the sound of a man who appreciated all the finer things in life and lived in every perfect moment he could find.
@[lilliana]
He moved on with his life, or where they the ones that had moved on? It did little good resting on such things, but when you can’t talk all that's left to do is think. Olver in all his dulled fire hide and abandoned green eyes had spent many nights tucked away on his own with absolutely no one. He had never experienced a very finalized loss like death, sweeping in and claiming those you hold dear, but is it not worse to lose those you love because they chose to leave you?
The snow fell silently into his red shaggy coat and his steps left behind a ghost of who he once was as the winter's sun began to hide behind the horizons protection once again. There, a woman traced in sun’s last breath stood face to face with a damaged creature - the pain evident in the way it held itself and tried to defend itself in the most pathetic of ways, no running only it’s voice left to say what its paws could no longer do. Olver’s eyes watch in tender curiosity as he watched the familiar mare close her eyes and pull to a place deep within. A perfect smile dances across his lips as the white light begins to dance from her to the creature in the most romantic of ways, soft and magical. The light reflected off her face and all that was near, it was as if this perfect crimson woman had been outlined in the angels light itself. The light became so blindingly white that Olver had to shut his eyes, a permanent picture of the perfect moment tattooed on the back side of his eyelids.
When he finally opened his eyes the light was gone and all that remained was an ordinary woman whose light was gently fading into the cold winter's night. He stepped forward from the canopy of low hanging trees into the darkness of the world, towards that perfect moment that was still engraved into the very front of his thoughts, towards Lilliana. His green eyes blazed with awe and appreciation for what she could do. That was beautiful, what you just did his voice came out deep, and gravely. It held the sound of a man who appreciated all the finer things in life and lived in every perfect moment he could find.
@[lilliana]
