life is like an hourglass, glued to the table. | scythe

[Prevail]

life is like an hourglass; glued to the table

   Gentle rays of sunlight peeked in through the dense foliage, illuminating the moist soil and shining off what little snow had fallen beneath the draping quiet of a frigid night, sheltered from the warmth of the morning sun. The light paved the path for the lithe, youthful frame that sauntered through. Slowly, she stepped and bounded around each leaning oak, dodging and weaving through the forest. Her breath was warm but the air too cold, and her lungs burnt from her long morning's travel – so unlike the thick, humid haze she had come to know so well.
 
   Her russet skin blends in well with the dark emerald brush surrounding her, though her steps were hardly careful and quiet - old dried leaves crunched softly beneath her weight and twigs snapped with each movement. She could not say where she was going, nor why. She had no destination in mind; only that she had grown tired of following the winding, bubbling magma that pooled at the foot of a too-tall mountain; that she had become bored of the swaying grain and dull, dreary sky.
 
   The dense thicket is unlike any she had seen before, and her bright, searing jade eyes observe every brittle, hanging branch – every dry, dying leaf hanging precariously from its parched stem. Her youth is etched into her delicate features - her limbs long and slim and not yet filled with the supple muscle and fat that would eventually cause her to sway to and fro with each deliberate step. There is a whisper of age outlining her frame – the delicate slope of her spine, the width and length of her neck, the faint curve of her widening hips – but she is caught betwixt, nary a child nor a woman yet.
 
   A gilded glimmer catches her eye, and within a single beat of her pounding heart, she is still – nothing but the roving curiosity of her searching stare and the rapid rise and fall of her chest to give her away. The mottled gold reflects the pale rays of sunlight peeking through the thick canopy above, and she is drawn closer, tracing the line of thick, defined muscle beneath pallid skin, and the way a shadow drapes over the darkest points and edges of him with her eyes. Her cheek brushes against the brittle bark of an oak as she quietly observes him, and the tip of her right horn rakes against the dry wood, causing a large piece of dead timber to fumble onto her.
 
   A gasp emerges from her lungs before she can stifle it, and if it were not the shadow cast across her, a reddened tint would be visible on the hollow of her cheeks. Foolish, she chides herself, giving a brief shake of her head in an attempt to free her winding horns from the plate of wood that has found its way caught between – leaving dust and pulp behind in her long, tangled tresses as she looks apologetically to the masculine figure before her
 
   ”I’m sorry,” she manages, stammering slightly – her voice wavering with uncertainty. ”I, uh -  I was passing through, and I saw .. you.” She finishes lamely, grimacing at her choice of words. ”You’re the first I’ve seen in a while. I’m Prevail.”

Prevail

@[Scythe]

[Prevail]

life is like an hourglass; glued to the table

  A stray gleam of sunlight touches her cheek, rendering her temporarily blind as its unyielding glare causes her to flinch and turn away – her breath is still coming in short bursts, as her heart races tirelessly to flood her every part and crevice with adrenaline. With a grimace, she is finally able to blink away the bleary shadow from her gaze, and his voice is little more than an echo in her mind. I see you now, and then Scythe, he utters with bittersweet amusement interlaced between each carefully spoken syllable.

   His laughter envelopes her, caressing the edge of her taut, rigid shoulders with a shiver, and lingering across her dark, russet skin with a gentle reverberation – and yet another gasp is elicited from her when she realizes the proximity in which he stands, his gleaming teeth bared and taking hold of the dry, brittle block of timber that had tangled itself between her winding horns.

   Alas, he is wholly unaware of the way her startled heart is pounding recklessly against its bony binding, or the way the once still, frigid morning fog is emerging from her flared nostrils with each rampant breath. He is so near to her that she can feel his warmth exuding from his gilded skin, and she can very nearly taste the sweet earthiness of his breath lingering near her tangled, unkempt tresses, which lay carelessly over her bright eyes. She is grateful to be hidden away, so that he cannot see the way her fluttering gaze is following the edge of his jawline, the hollow of his cheek - the sharpened ridge of his cheekbone, and down to his dark mouth, where yellowed teeth part with each spoken word.

   I think you look better without that.

   "I thought it sort of added a little something," she breathes, the corner of her dark indigo lips drawing back with a half-hearted smile, though she is certain she will have little reason to smile at all when her heart manages to burst through the sinewy muscle and bone of her chest any moment now. "but I guess I already have enough decoration as it is."

   Forever - the word lingers on his tongue for a long moment, and curiously, her prying jade eyes search the dark, seemingly empty glaze that lay across his own gaze. Briefly, her mouth brushes against his cheek, though she flinches upon feeling his skin on her lips (he is not as warm as she had thought he might be; he is icy to the touch - frigid, even). 

   "You look tired," a pause, a breath. "too tired."

   But she is nothing; she is no one - he has no reason to tell her why he is so tired, or why the fatigue has etched its ruthless mark into the weary, wrinkled rim of his eyes - and so she does not ask.

   "I don't know - everything and nothing, I suppose," she murmurs, her voice quiet - a hushed whisper in the gentle lull of morning. "I shouldn't be here, but then again, you probably shouldn't either - should you? Or maybe, rather, there is somewhere else you would rather be."

Prevail