01-27-2016, 09:30 AM
She nearly says his name because the silence is too long and lonely for her to believe he is honestly okay until he answers her and she feels the press of his nose to her neck. Roan is bereft of words the moment his nose moves into her mane and blazes a path through the knotty hairs there. How can she talk at a time like this when the thump of her heart is surely loud enough for him to hear? “Yes,” she breathes, unable to say anything further the more his nose stays in her mane. She can feel the little hairs on her neck stir at his every exhale and she knows that he breathes her in as deeply as she does him - until it seems like they have embedded their scents in each other’s souls. Roan is frozen by what he murmurs, certain that he had not really meant to say it but once said, it cannot be taken back and some part of her is glad that he had said it. Only her father had ever sworn to care for her and it feels strange but welcoming to know that Brynmor feels the same way and she tentatively reaches out her muzzle to his shoulder, her lips feeling along the ropes of muscle beneath the skin. Deep down she knows that he has discovered the scars - probably felt them with his lips, because she is still unaware of the fact that he had once been blind but now he sees and they are not the same any more. It would sadden her heart to know that even though she would shine with happiness for him and the simple fact that he was granted a gift that few of them are ever given - the ability to see. To the blind, that is almost as good as life itself - almost. She can only murmur her thanks to him, pressing her gratitude into his skin until his shoulder bears the impossibly tiny weight of a thousand thank you’s entrusted there. But she wonders what he must think of the scars? Is she ugly? How can she be when she has nothing by which to measure a thing such as ugliness? These curiosities plague her but the unexpected absence of his muzzle from her mane distracts her and she answers him after a moment’s hesitation - “Good, and you?” It sounded so banal - so expected but hers is a life best lived careful and dull which left little room for excitement and besides, she knew the ice slopes well for all that she roamed them repeatedly. He closed the gap between them and she felt the great furnace of his side blazing so deliciously near her own that Roan couldn’t help herself and she leaned in closer to him so that their bellies and shoulders touched. She went impossibly still the moment his lips met her cheek and dared not to breath lest he pull away and the contact between them could be lost. There were things that she wanted to say but they caught in her throat and went unsaid as her lips curved into a slow sweet smile which said so much more than any words ever could.
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