09-09-2016, 08:19 AM
Ruan
His brow was creased as he faithfully trailed his... Reagan, thoughts elsewhere. He had not given himself time to fully mourn his losses; his sister, mother, and even the adopted family of valley wolves that had once again graced him with a sense of family when he needed it most. He was certain the pack had been wiped out with the rest of the lands. The sense of belonging he'd found in them was so effortlessly replaced by her magic, her beautiful spirit offered to him and clutched greedily within his own. But the wolves...
They were not the only thing missing.
Ruan stopped, head turned to look off in the distance, as if he could see through all the trees surrounding him. One little wolf was still alive somewhere, and he intended to find him. He'd search til he dropped. But how could he tell Reagan? Would she understand?
He'd fallen behind, and with downcast eyes he turned to follow her trail. When he found her again, he looked up to meet her gaze. Her smile warmed him and spread to his own face, sweeping away his concern. She was beautiful. How had he managed to stumble upon such a fae?
When she held her image of age, green-tipped strands of hair and moss wherever she pleased, she was a raw, wild magic. Irish and rich with lore. Power seemed to radiate from her in waves, washing over anyone near enough to feel it. Her emerald eyes glittered with a knowing stare and you felt as though she could see every detail about you, your past, future. And she could, of course. That, and more.
A glaring fire, becoming a familiar fiend of late, sparked to life in his eyes, but he held it in check. He felt full of pride and want every time he looked at her.
"Reagan," he called softly, stepping in a little closer and halting. She was wild and free, unchained. And somehow his.
"The girl is happy here with us?" he asked, reluctantly tearing his gaze from hers as he glanced around for the little sprite.
They were not the only thing missing.
Ruan stopped, head turned to look off in the distance, as if he could see through all the trees surrounding him. One little wolf was still alive somewhere, and he intended to find him. He'd search til he dropped. But how could he tell Reagan? Would she understand?
He'd fallen behind, and with downcast eyes he turned to follow her trail. When he found her again, he looked up to meet her gaze. Her smile warmed him and spread to his own face, sweeping away his concern. She was beautiful. How had he managed to stumble upon such a fae?
When she held her image of age, green-tipped strands of hair and moss wherever she pleased, she was a raw, wild magic. Irish and rich with lore. Power seemed to radiate from her in waves, washing over anyone near enough to feel it. Her emerald eyes glittered with a knowing stare and you felt as though she could see every detail about you, your past, future. And she could, of course. That, and more.
A glaring fire, becoming a familiar fiend of late, sparked to life in his eyes, but he held it in check. He felt full of pride and want every time he looked at her.
"Reagan," he called softly, stepping in a little closer and halting. She was wild and free, unchained. And somehow his.
"The girl is happy here with us?" he asked, reluctantly tearing his gaze from hers as he glanced around for the little sprite.
