well, I'm a lion in the haze and the lamb in the lightning
oh, these spears and chains of flames around my neck are tightening
He does not wake fast, but he does wake, his black lids fluttering as his strange eyes open and focus.
His sleep had been shallow, thin, and he is not groggy when he sheds it like a second skin. Instead, he is instantly alert, gaze sharpening on the source of the noise, the mare who had uttered that soft and regretful sound. She glows, and he finds that he is intrigued, his handsome head tilting to the side to consider her.
“Hey there,” his voice is gruff, rough around the edges, and he clears his throat, but it does nothing to displace that whiskey. “Do you often wander around by yourself?” One corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked smile as he yawns again, rolling his shoulders to rid himself of the rust and the ache. Shaking, a soft cloud of dust rises from him, the majority of it drifting down to rest against his muscled curves.
Alek was not entirely used to company, but he was not adverse to it—least of all when it was with women. He enjoyed their company; he enjoyed their softness and edges, their strength and fragility. It was certainly more entertaining than being choked to death by testosterone. Another sardonic smile at the thought. He could have absolutely done worse than passing the time with the black and gold mare.
Taking a small step forward, he tilting his heavy-jawed head to the side to study her, considering her in the silence, wondering why she so instantly retreated to the shadows, wrapping them around her. Was he so frightening or was she just so used to being on her own? “Come now, I don’t bite,” his eyes sparked as he found her gaze, beckoning her forward. “My name is Alek.” Or that’s what people called him, at least.
Aleksandr