steady as a preacher, free as a weed…
--couldn‘t wait to get goin‘ but wasn‘t quite ready to leave
She has been pulled into his orbit, helpless to the effects of it. True, she had longed for something more than what the Gates were, but was this too much? Was she dancing in the flames even now? And most importantly, did she care to get burned?
It didn’t take her long to realize she did not care. She would soak herself in gasoline and tend to the fire if he would ask it of her.
But she is young and impressionable, as the young often are. Life had been easy (boring, even) up until his muzzle had met her cheek. Life had been nothing noteworthy, just the mundane motions of existing as opposed to living. Life after him would be just the same, if there was even life at all. Now that she had tasted stardust, could she possibly slow down? Within her breast was a gypsies soul, and he fed that hunger perfectly. She would drink from his cup, take from him anything and everything he could possibly offer.
There is tension in the air, even here amongst the stars. She can feel it in the way her breast clenches and in the way her mind hurts. Its not enough to outweigh the stars but its something she can’t fully ignore. “No home? There’s anger in your heart…” she whispers into his mind, her head tilting to the side ever so slightly. The last part isn’t a question, but a statement made matter of factly. Her heart aches with a need to touch him, and so without hesitation she does. The black of her muzzle meets the silver of his shoulder. It is not a tentative touch, as bold as her statement only moments before. “Take me to the sun.” she breathes into his mind while her mouth is still on his skin. “Do you think it will burn?” Her question is perfunctory; she’ll still go with him even if it burns her alive.
topsail