The sky is awash in all the colors of summer’s death.
The blues, oranges, and pinks of early sunset play and blend on the surface of the spraying ocean. Droplets land on his grey muzzle, tickling the sensitive skin and making him wish it was someone, not something, evoking the response. It is still a new sensation. For one so unaffected by touch for so many decades, he finds himself craving it now. Now, as the days of hot, hot summer evaporate slowly into fall, Walter recognizes his want.
As he stares out across the ocean, he sees a pod of dolphins making their way to their night waters. They jump and frolic like the butterflies of the sea, breaking up his picturesque scene without a care in the world. For the first time, he wants to move like they do, wants to understand how that freedom would feel. Only the skies give him that now. A thread of playfulness unspools within him. A part of him wonders if he will trip over it. A part of him wonders if he will regret it.
But he finds her anyway.
“Come,” he says, and it is a command. But then his lips go crooked (like they always do these days, when he can’t hold it in) and he’s nudging her shoulder and they are off.
And it’s a little bit darker, but that’s all right because her glow more than makes up for it. He thinks she looks lovelier now than she ever has. All pink and warm, like the sunset behind her. He tells her, because words have never been his problem. “You look magnificent.” And then he’s running his grey muzzle down her neck so gently that only his whiskers drag along her skin, because touch is no longer a problem, either. He is evolved. He is better, because of her, for her. She smells like the ocean and the wild oats, but it is not enough tonight. Tonight, he wants to be in the sea, with her.
On the beach, he wuffs a warm breath in the hollow space behind her shoulder, wanting to continue his whisker-touch trail but wanting other things, too. He withdraws slowly, regretfully. Her eyes pull his own up like magnets so that they connect as they have many times before. This time, they don’t want to let go. He sees the dark edge of night reflecting in her gaze and he wants to be there for that and all the nights to follow. He wants walk with her along the swell and receding of the shoreline with the tides as time passes them, as they grow even older together. But he’s always scared they will lose each other again.
Tonight, though, his fears are carried far away on the backs of dolphins.
Walter takes a step towards the water. "I've never..." he starts, then stops himself.
He lifts his wings in eager anticipation for the splash at his feet, on his legs. He looks back at her once (a dare, a challenge) before slipping in. The water rolls underneath him, and it is almost sensual. It reminds him of endless cycles, of chasing over and over again forever. Tonight, he will do no chasing. She will come to him. That is the game and there are no rules.
@[Djinni]
The blues, oranges, and pinks of early sunset play and blend on the surface of the spraying ocean. Droplets land on his grey muzzle, tickling the sensitive skin and making him wish it was someone, not something, evoking the response. It is still a new sensation. For one so unaffected by touch for so many decades, he finds himself craving it now. Now, as the days of hot, hot summer evaporate slowly into fall, Walter recognizes his want.
As he stares out across the ocean, he sees a pod of dolphins making their way to their night waters. They jump and frolic like the butterflies of the sea, breaking up his picturesque scene without a care in the world. For the first time, he wants to move like they do, wants to understand how that freedom would feel. Only the skies give him that now. A thread of playfulness unspools within him. A part of him wonders if he will trip over it. A part of him wonders if he will regret it.
But he finds her anyway.
“Come,” he says, and it is a command. But then his lips go crooked (like they always do these days, when he can’t hold it in) and he’s nudging her shoulder and they are off.
And it’s a little bit darker, but that’s all right because her glow more than makes up for it. He thinks she looks lovelier now than she ever has. All pink and warm, like the sunset behind her. He tells her, because words have never been his problem. “You look magnificent.” And then he’s running his grey muzzle down her neck so gently that only his whiskers drag along her skin, because touch is no longer a problem, either. He is evolved. He is better, because of her, for her. She smells like the ocean and the wild oats, but it is not enough tonight. Tonight, he wants to be in the sea, with her.
On the beach, he wuffs a warm breath in the hollow space behind her shoulder, wanting to continue his whisker-touch trail but wanting other things, too. He withdraws slowly, regretfully. Her eyes pull his own up like magnets so that they connect as they have many times before. This time, they don’t want to let go. He sees the dark edge of night reflecting in her gaze and he wants to be there for that and all the nights to follow. He wants walk with her along the swell and receding of the shoreline with the tides as time passes them, as they grow even older together. But he’s always scared they will lose each other again.
Tonight, though, his fears are carried far away on the backs of dolphins.
Walter takes a step towards the water. "I've never..." he starts, then stops himself.
He lifts his wings in eager anticipation for the splash at his feet, on his legs. He looks back at her once (a dare, a challenge) before slipping in. The water rolls underneath him, and it is almost sensual. It reminds him of endless cycles, of chasing over and over again forever. Tonight, he will do no chasing. She will come to him. That is the game and there are no rules.
@[Djinni]
