let my shadows prove the sunshine
He’s taken his time with making his way back to Tephra. Svedka has never been the one to rush things in the first place and though he loves his twin sister and her wife dearly, he has decided to give them a little bit of space upon returning to Beqanna as a whole, let alone returning to the place they were born. He dallies, weaving through the pines of the forest, reflecting on the long years he has been away as he absentmindedly brushes his pink lips across the damp bark of the trees, the cool taste of autumn on his tongue.
The lion stirs; it longs for control of him and ever-waits for a chance to escape, constantly prodding at any weak points within Svedka’s mind. The stallion has learned to live with the hellish beast, but he can always feel the strong press of the mountain lion, trilling in his throat and awakening in his belly. Certain habits have been formed that are of the predator’s influence - such as wandering through a forest in the dead of night, instead of sleeping. It unnerves him to know he is only doing things because of the lion, but it seems to soothe the beast.
Mist begins to swirl around his ivory legs, causing the stallion’s lowered head to rise, his cerulean gaze looking out before him. The thick canopy of the forest is beginning to become sparse and the sound of rushing water gently plays across the landscape. The cold, soft dirt he walks upon soon becomes sprinkled with river rocks, becoming larger and larger as he moves towards the sound of water. It’s cooler here, near the river, and as he comes up to its bank he inhales deeply the smell of freshwater and earth. Svedka lowers his head, a cascade of brilliant blue and perfect white falling into his face, pinkish lips pursing as they touch the chilly river water.
Movement to his right causes his head to rise, curving his neck towards the billowing of white that catches his attention. The sound of the rushing water masks the sounds of her hooves against pebble and stone as she carefully walks alongside the shore, an ethereal vision amidst the dense fog and deep green of the bordering treeline. He says nothing yet, a lazy half-smile finding his lips before he begins to make his way towards her, his knowing cerulean gaze sparkling.
Perhaps not too many things have changed in the years he has been away.
“Ilma,” he breathes, his voice robust against the gurgling of the river. He halts before her, his hooves sinking into the softness of the river’s bank, close enough to her for any wandering eyes to realize that they are more than mere strangers. His eyes take in her frame for a moment - noticing that not one thing has changed - before taking a step to embrace her, looking forward to feeling the warmth of her skin against his own.
svedka
@[Ilma] Totally ready for this!