05-17-2017, 05:15 PM
He felt the reassuring touch of her mug at his neck and – surprising to himself – actually felt reassured for the first time since he and the little filly had been separated. He smiled the tight smile of a parent who understands that this is probably true, but can’t help but hold on to the – mostly – irrational fear. She was not his daughter, and they had been together only a few short months, but she had long since become his responsibility. He had many failings as a guardian, and tended to treat her like her own independent being rather than a child who needed boundaries. Which, come to think of it, was probably why she thought she was her own independent being and felt no compunction to tell him where she was off to.
He listened with sincere interest to her – brief – summary of her dispossessed history. He found he had more questions ready – wanted to know more about why, and how. He was encouraged by her tone and saw that it would not press his luck too far to ask. However, they had reached their destination and the subject changed to practical matters.
He was shaking his head before she even finished her sentence. A Don’t be silly headshake that was not so subtly saying I will take the outside, I insist. “That’s a generous offer, Naira…” he started to say, fully intending to insist out loud as well. She was already a step ahead of him, though. He watched her settle herself onto the ground, deliberately leaving space for him to lie between her and the trees. Now if he insisted he recognized it would mean making her stand up again to move over which seemed almost as impolite as making her sleep against the wind and he was immediately uncomfortable – both with the thought of letting her take the outside, and with the thought of insisting that he take it. As a result he was still standing after she had made herself relatively comfortable on the ground, very smoothly precluding his intended chivalrous misogyny. Of course, he didn’t see it as chivalry, and that contributed to his frustration – it was just logical, wasn’t it? He was larger, he would make a better windscreen. Plus – he would probably have stood in the open all night if she hadn’t come along and any warmth was a win over that.
Her coat picked up the ethereal white of the starlight reflected off the snow, and gave her a luminescent quality, briefly interrupted by the wind-blown shadows of the pines behind them. He was trying to play his polite stranger act, which usually came with a dissociative distance that separated him from forming a personal opinion or emotional response. And yet, he was aware, as he watched her, of finding her quite lovely, and no less so for falling short of the damsel in distress.
So he acquiesced, comforting himself with the intention of trading places with her as soon as she woke again overnight, and he settled himself down alongside her, stretching his larger frame against hers – carefully maximizing the skin contact to keep her from getting too cold. As he did so she was offering to help him look for Alayaya – in between yawns – for which he felt gratitude that only deepened his rosy perception of her. Finally arranging his limbs comfortably, he turned his face back to answer and found her eyes were already closed. A softer smile crept onto his lips as he watched her sink into sleep. He murmured “Perhaps, in the morning.” Almost inaudibly, trying not to pull her back from that welcome oblivion. He was not consciously aware of his eyes studying her features as they transformed in the relaxation of sleep, but watch her he did, silently, the wind whining and the trees whispering over their heads. He watched her as her breathing slowed, as the tensions of waking life on your own melted, the occasional unconscious, ever wary turn of her ear toward a new sound in the distance of the meadow.
He remained sleepless, though gently encouraged by her rhythmic breathing and the slow, easy beat of her heart which he felt against his own chest. He laid his head gently, slowly, upon her shoulder – careful not to wake her, watchful now over the darkness and the illusion of misty light across the snow in the open spaces beyond them.
He listened with sincere interest to her – brief – summary of her dispossessed history. He found he had more questions ready – wanted to know more about why, and how. He was encouraged by her tone and saw that it would not press his luck too far to ask. However, they had reached their destination and the subject changed to practical matters.
He was shaking his head before she even finished her sentence. A Don’t be silly headshake that was not so subtly saying I will take the outside, I insist. “That’s a generous offer, Naira…” he started to say, fully intending to insist out loud as well. She was already a step ahead of him, though. He watched her settle herself onto the ground, deliberately leaving space for him to lie between her and the trees. Now if he insisted he recognized it would mean making her stand up again to move over which seemed almost as impolite as making her sleep against the wind and he was immediately uncomfortable – both with the thought of letting her take the outside, and with the thought of insisting that he take it. As a result he was still standing after she had made herself relatively comfortable on the ground, very smoothly precluding his intended chivalrous misogyny. Of course, he didn’t see it as chivalry, and that contributed to his frustration – it was just logical, wasn’t it? He was larger, he would make a better windscreen. Plus – he would probably have stood in the open all night if she hadn’t come along and any warmth was a win over that.
Her coat picked up the ethereal white of the starlight reflected off the snow, and gave her a luminescent quality, briefly interrupted by the wind-blown shadows of the pines behind them. He was trying to play his polite stranger act, which usually came with a dissociative distance that separated him from forming a personal opinion or emotional response. And yet, he was aware, as he watched her, of finding her quite lovely, and no less so for falling short of the damsel in distress.
So he acquiesced, comforting himself with the intention of trading places with her as soon as she woke again overnight, and he settled himself down alongside her, stretching his larger frame against hers – carefully maximizing the skin contact to keep her from getting too cold. As he did so she was offering to help him look for Alayaya – in between yawns – for which he felt gratitude that only deepened his rosy perception of her. Finally arranging his limbs comfortably, he turned his face back to answer and found her eyes were already closed. A softer smile crept onto his lips as he watched her sink into sleep. He murmured “Perhaps, in the morning.” Almost inaudibly, trying not to pull her back from that welcome oblivion. He was not consciously aware of his eyes studying her features as they transformed in the relaxation of sleep, but watch her he did, silently, the wind whining and the trees whispering over their heads. He watched her as her breathing slowed, as the tensions of waking life on your own melted, the occasional unconscious, ever wary turn of her ear toward a new sound in the distance of the meadow.
He remained sleepless, though gently encouraged by her rhythmic breathing and the slow, easy beat of her heart which he felt against his own chest. He laid his head gently, slowly, upon her shoulder – careful not to wake her, watchful now over the darkness and the illusion of misty light across the snow in the open spaces beyond them.
Seirath - waiting