Her voice is tender and quiet, somehow creating an atmosphere that allows him to begin to relax; his wings and their downy feathers fall laden at his sides, their brilliant ivory rustling against the crystalline of her body. She tries so hard to understand him, despite the fact he’s given her nothing to understand, and the mere attempt to soothe and comfort him is enough to allow a sleepy, dreamy smile to begin to curl on the alabaster of his mouth. Beneath this semblance of a smile - one that is far off and does not quite reach his eyes - comes the sound of his rumbling voice, soft yet heavy with his knowledge of the future. “I like to think that some are meant to be carried,” he tells her honestly, leaning into her ever so slightly as his lids flutter closed in thought, his brow furrowing slightly as if searching for something just out of reach. He grunts softly as he shifts his weight, allowing himself to settle into the sand beside her.
For a swift moment there is silence between them and it causes him to open one eye, its dark blue iris searching her quizzically as a black-tipped ear flips towards her. He isn’t sure what causes her to falter, but his thoughts are not allowed to think about it any longer than that because she is gently pulling him closer and Warden finds the strangeness of her touch - clear, smooth, cool - somehow controls him so easily. Without any resistance she will find his head in her lap, his brows pricked upwards in curiosity and a bit of uncertainty swimming in the depths of his dark gaze as he peers up at her from beneath his inky forelock and those spiraling, twisting horns.
She fixes his mane, much like she had his feathers, with such decisiveness he cannot help the smile that sprouts on the edges of his lips. His nostrils flutter as a tired sigh erupts from him, whuffling loudly. His eyes fall from her golden gaze as ivory lids fall over them, inhaling contentedly. He realizes that he truly does not want to fall asleep - not now, when the real world is so much more captivating and glistening with possibilities. He feels nearly electrified and vibrating with energy, not unlike before a vision occurs. But there is no dark shadow crossing over, no burning sensation in the middle of his forehead. He has no choice in the matter, however, as she had made so very clear only moments before.
“I trust you,” comes his reply, and his heart stops at the sound of sincerity and truthfulness in his own voice. Warden knows it won’t work; if he were to fall asleep, nightmares would come alive like they always do. But he daren’t move from this spot, where somehow he believes her - that he is safe beneath a delicate girl he barely knows with flowers in her hair. He melts into her embrace, his breath falling and rising steadily like the ocean’s tide against the blackened beach they are strewn upon. “A forest,” he whispers to her, “in autumn, with the sunset igniting the leaves like fire.” He opens one eye to glance up at her, wondering if he’ll be chastised for doing so, but quickly adding: “You’re there with me,” before closing his eyes once again.
The stallion begins to drift, his eyes twitching beneath closed lids, feeling himself becoming looser and looser until the fabric of sleep starts to weave themselves around him. He tries to fight it, focusing on her touch and the soft murmur of her voice in an attempt to stay conscious, but he is slowly losing. He knows the difference between a vision and sleep, but even as he falls under, his body tenses for he knows what will soon paint his dreams.
She is successful in getting him to fall asleep, calm and still beneath her touch and her careful gaze. Perhaps an hour passes or two, and perhaps she has fallen asleep as well, but the stillness is broken when he awakes with a sudden gasp, eyes white and rolling. The nightmare of his dreamed up forest with flames licking towards the heavens slowly escape his eyesight, but the sound of her calling his name in agony still plays over and over. Warden shudders as everything from the nightmare becomes distant - yet still there, embedded in his skin like Flower had mentioned only hours ago. He focuses on the feel of the soft sand beneath him, the sound of the rolling waves at their front and the quiet beginnings of dawn stretching across the horizon. Warden pants and lifts his head, trying to catch his breath and turning to find Flower with wide and searching eyes as if she would be gone, (vanished or shattered, he can’t decide which would be worse) as if she was only a dream herself.
His brow creases with heavy solemnity, reaching out to her to brush his lips carefully against the amethyst of the petals in her mane, tracing them tenderly before realizing his mouth now lingers on her smooth cheek. The warmth of his breath fogs the perfect ruby of her skin, becoming mesmerized by the very essence of her existence while equally terrified that her fate would be inevitable. “Flower,” he murmurs to her, still breathless and unsteady, as the morning sun begins to filter her through her like liquid gold, her sparkling reflection bright in the darkness of his eyes. I thought I’d lost you.
WARDEN
@[flower]
