01-28-2017, 02:12 PM
Stillwater
He stood slowly as the world darkened around them. Alright, was all she said before everything changed, took shape and manifested from nothing. At her whim.
It was dark, cavernous, hollow. Perfect. There was a sliver of an entrance hidden between boulders that matched all the other formations of rock littered across Sylva like discarded giant's toys. The whisper of water quietly filled it's emptiness, the air tinted with moisture, fragranted with its sweet and hidden trickle. He took it all in like a dream, a wonderful illusion. Perhaps thats what it was. An illusion.
Is this real? he asked, afraid to hope.
The small path sloped down toward the pond, so near the water. He stood and stared out, then slowly turned and stared in. "Is this damp enough for you?" His dark eyes slid to her, uncertain and suddenly feeling vulnerable with this dream dangled so delicately before him.
It is perfect, he answered honestly, quietly. He tried not to see this as a kindness, or a gift. Tried to view it as a consolation for his entrapment. But it felt like a gift, so rare and valuable. Because she didn't have to do it, she could simply let him stew in bitterness and frustration. He wanted to ask about that, but held his tongue. He would not risk losing this, finally a home. Quieter even than the cave in Nerine with roaring waves and crashing tide. The water here was subtle and smooth, like him. Captured by the unforgiving land, but tranquil.
He was at a loss for words, and now could only watch this magician in both awe and a hint of fear for the things she could do if she chose to. And with affection. Their relationship was strange, maybe forever imbalanced, but still she always managed to lull his mood, tame his feral interest into something softer and sweeter. It was maddening at times, and yet he also couldn't seem to care.
It is perfect, he said again, because he couldn't say thank you.
It was dark, cavernous, hollow. Perfect. There was a sliver of an entrance hidden between boulders that matched all the other formations of rock littered across Sylva like discarded giant's toys. The whisper of water quietly filled it's emptiness, the air tinted with moisture, fragranted with its sweet and hidden trickle. He took it all in like a dream, a wonderful illusion. Perhaps thats what it was. An illusion.
Is this real? he asked, afraid to hope.
The small path sloped down toward the pond, so near the water. He stood and stared out, then slowly turned and stared in. "Is this damp enough for you?" His dark eyes slid to her, uncertain and suddenly feeling vulnerable with this dream dangled so delicately before him.
It is perfect, he answered honestly, quietly. He tried not to see this as a kindness, or a gift. Tried to view it as a consolation for his entrapment. But it felt like a gift, so rare and valuable. Because she didn't have to do it, she could simply let him stew in bitterness and frustration. He wanted to ask about that, but held his tongue. He would not risk losing this, finally a home. Quieter even than the cave in Nerine with roaring waves and crashing tide. The water here was subtle and smooth, like him. Captured by the unforgiving land, but tranquil.
He was at a loss for words, and now could only watch this magician in both awe and a hint of fear for the things she could do if she chose to. And with affection. Their relationship was strange, maybe forever imbalanced, but still she always managed to lull his mood, tame his feral interest into something softer and sweeter. It was maddening at times, and yet he also couldn't seem to care.
It is perfect, he said again, because he couldn't say thank you.
go down with me, fall with me, lets make it worth it