03-06-2017, 11:25 PM
Had it not been for slight of movement, Circinae would’ve missed the curious little fox. She’s too intent on reining in her emotions and quieting her mind that when Terra begins her shift, the green-and-navy girl only catches the end. Had she hands, she might have clapped. Instead, she only allows for a grin to wisp quickly over her face, the beginnings of “Oh! A Fox shif-” spilling from her pleased lips before the words, and the grin, die out casually with the appearance of Reagan.
It’s not that she fears her (though, unbidden, the sensation of Ruan’s lips against her skin … the smell of his lingering breath in the tepid, charged air between them … the animosity and instinct in his gaze shoots through her mind) more so that she understands her place here is not yet cemented. She is, currently, an outsider trying desperately to wedge her toes into the nooks and crannies of this cliff she calls home. Circy is also starkly aware that with one blink from the grey mare, she could cease to exist.
So many uncertainties. “And you thought yourself able to withstand this.” She admonishes herself inwardly, dipping her head in respect to the two of them as they intertwine with casual familiarity. “Thank you, firstly, for coming.” She says instead, “I’m well and hopefully you are too. I have a … request for you.” She hedges, tail twitching to flick out and tap her sides with nervousness. She had no right, she knows, but Reagan holds the key to unlocking a mystery she has never been able to solve.
“I have two gifts … not just wolf shifting. But I’ve never known what my second was, only that it was present. I was wondering if you could, well, reveal to me what it was?” Her body quivers, softly, with the memory of what it was like; allowing another to probe her again. How much would Reagan see? How much would Circinae be able to hide? “Idiot girl.” She thinks, knowing full and well that her Queen was no paltry telepath. In a shy attempt to re-direct attention away from her, those blue eyes dance to where Terra watches them both.
“Circy.” She echoes, tongue gliding over her parched lips. “At your service.”
It’s not that she fears her (though, unbidden, the sensation of Ruan’s lips against her skin … the smell of his lingering breath in the tepid, charged air between them … the animosity and instinct in his gaze shoots through her mind) more so that she understands her place here is not yet cemented. She is, currently, an outsider trying desperately to wedge her toes into the nooks and crannies of this cliff she calls home. Circy is also starkly aware that with one blink from the grey mare, she could cease to exist.
So many uncertainties. “And you thought yourself able to withstand this.” She admonishes herself inwardly, dipping her head in respect to the two of them as they intertwine with casual familiarity. “Thank you, firstly, for coming.” She says instead, “I’m well and hopefully you are too. I have a … request for you.” She hedges, tail twitching to flick out and tap her sides with nervousness. She had no right, she knows, but Reagan holds the key to unlocking a mystery she has never been able to solve.
“I have two gifts … not just wolf shifting. But I’ve never known what my second was, only that it was present. I was wondering if you could, well, reveal to me what it was?” Her body quivers, softly, with the memory of what it was like; allowing another to probe her again. How much would Reagan see? How much would Circinae be able to hide? “Idiot girl.” She thinks, knowing full and well that her Queen was no paltry telepath. In a shy attempt to re-direct attention away from her, those blue eyes dance to where Terra watches them both.
“Circy.” She echoes, tongue gliding over her parched lips. “At your service.”
Circinae
I need the crack of a whip, I need some blood in the cut
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