03-13-2017, 01:08 PM
She’s glad that she wasted no time in returning home to him. Her head, hanging once over his, rises as she allows him room to finally stand and greet her properly. “Nonsense.” The green girl tells him, in rebuttal to his idea that she might have been avoiding him - and for his paltry apology over calling her back. Neither needed explanation, she would’ve come to him willingly whether it had been a demand or lamentation. Her eyes, at first soft in understanding, harden as they sweep across his body. Circinae isn’t satisfied with the slump of his shoulders, or the weight he now seems to carry. “You’d do the same for me.” She finalizes, wiping the slate between them clean with one effortless motion.
“I still remember the first time we met, years ago.” She says with a warm grin. Her tail, frozen hard into crystallized, sapphire tendrils, swings outward to slap heartily against her downy side, causing the ice to break free where it drifts down to her hooves. A step forward, then she’s pressing her nose into his dark, warm shoulder where she lingers, drawing concentric spirals in a mind-numbing motion to help still his endless worry. Another smile and the words come easier, “There you were, like some wraith from the woods, with Jinju tucked beneath a wing and the rest of Taiga to stand behind you.”
Her head shakes, gently, while her eyes close with the freshness of that first introduction. “It seems like so much has changed, doesn’t it?” She ponders, letting her lips slip free from their routine to glide up and over his withers, down the curve of his spine, to where the scars begin. She won’t touch them - not without his permission - so instead she lips him once more, leaning into the weight of their casual embrace. Simply enjoying the presence that they create, together. “But no one ever really changes, Ruan.” She sighs, confident in her own assessment of the world around her. “They just make the wrong choices. They decide to do the wrong thing, or the right thing, that’s all.”
Perhaps it’s youth (or spurned affection) that leads her to this conclusion, but it’s one that’s held true all of her short years. “You haven’t changed.” Circy rumbles, feeling the presence of her other self, “Still the same black wraith I remember. Still Alpha. Still my King.” The words fall, each one more poignant than the last. “Choose what you know is right.”
“Sadness, anger, pain …” She thinks, knowing the emotions like old friends. “Don’t choose them.”
“I still remember the first time we met, years ago.” She says with a warm grin. Her tail, frozen hard into crystallized, sapphire tendrils, swings outward to slap heartily against her downy side, causing the ice to break free where it drifts down to her hooves. A step forward, then she’s pressing her nose into his dark, warm shoulder where she lingers, drawing concentric spirals in a mind-numbing motion to help still his endless worry. Another smile and the words come easier, “There you were, like some wraith from the woods, with Jinju tucked beneath a wing and the rest of Taiga to stand behind you.”
Her head shakes, gently, while her eyes close with the freshness of that first introduction. “It seems like so much has changed, doesn’t it?” She ponders, letting her lips slip free from their routine to glide up and over his withers, down the curve of his spine, to where the scars begin. She won’t touch them - not without his permission - so instead she lips him once more, leaning into the weight of their casual embrace. Simply enjoying the presence that they create, together. “But no one ever really changes, Ruan.” She sighs, confident in her own assessment of the world around her. “They just make the wrong choices. They decide to do the wrong thing, or the right thing, that’s all.”
Perhaps it’s youth (or spurned affection) that leads her to this conclusion, but it’s one that’s held true all of her short years. “You haven’t changed.” Circy rumbles, feeling the presence of her other self, “Still the same black wraith I remember. Still Alpha. Still my King.” The words fall, each one more poignant than the last. “Choose what you know is right.”
“Sadness, anger, pain …” She thinks, knowing the emotions like old friends. “Don’t choose them.”
Circinae
I need the crack of a whip, I need some blood in the cut
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