08-26-2017, 11:57 PM
i'm not going to change, so stay out of my way.
i don't need you to understand that i'm already saved.
The rage is burning brighter than the sun – a flickering flame, set alight by the fury bubbling up and stirring the hot blood flowing through her veins as her heart hammers roughly against her chest. She can feel her breath, warm and sweet across her cheek, as her thick, curved spiky protrusions of bone press into her supple flesh.
Heartfire does not resist the pressure of their pointed ends, nor does she attempt to flee – pinned against the hard and unforgiving oak, she is enveloped by her and confronted by the sheer prowess of her own bone-bending, yet she is unflinching. Irritation is roiling within her, festering beneath the surface – she is not at all unnerved by her, even with a spike looming dangerously close to the pulsating, surging heart beneath it, even with death only a heartbeat away.
Alas, the protrusion is not to last – with little effort, it is disintegrated into dust, its ivory remnants falling away and drifting into the wayward breeze whistling through the dark and dense foliage. A low growl rises (such an unusual sound, from a creature of prey – but she had never allowed herself to be a victim; she is predatory in so many ways), reverberating in her throat as what is left of her heart-piercing spike is drawn back into her body, while the rest remain.
It does not hurt physically (and perhaps it is obvious by the way her gaze barely flinches; only narrowing with disdain) but there is a small piece of frustration that has lapsed into uncertainty (and thus, her ego is bruised). She was no match for the ability to destroy on a molecular level – only her agility could ensure that her ability to change and shape her bone structure would bring an end to her unwieldy opponent. She would never confess, not even to herself, that she could not end her, should she desire it – even if it were the truth.
Her teeth, blunt but perfectly aligned, gleam in the pale light of the dimly lit woodland – bared angrily as the temptation to take the delicate flesh beneath her jawline in between (to draw blood) becomes stronger. She does not permit her to pull away, nor to create any distance at all, try as though Heartfire might.
As she recoils, Ellyse presses closer, and with every particle of space that is taken up by the warmth of her gilded body, her bones retract. Still an ever-present barrier between the blue roan and her own skin, but slowly closing the void between them, until the darkness of her searching hazel eyes are boring into hers, her mouth so close to hers that she can nearly taste the sweetness of the fauna still lingering on her tongue.
”I do not coddle my children,” she murmurs, her anger level but still simmering. ”he does not owe me any explanation for any extended absence, thus I did not search for him, but had I known you had taken him for your own for your petty little game –“ she pauses, her breath warm against her cheek, her mouth closest to her ear. ”I would have found you and I would have ripped your throat out myself.”
Heartfire does not resist the pressure of their pointed ends, nor does she attempt to flee – pinned against the hard and unforgiving oak, she is enveloped by her and confronted by the sheer prowess of her own bone-bending, yet she is unflinching. Irritation is roiling within her, festering beneath the surface – she is not at all unnerved by her, even with a spike looming dangerously close to the pulsating, surging heart beneath it, even with death only a heartbeat away.
Alas, the protrusion is not to last – with little effort, it is disintegrated into dust, its ivory remnants falling away and drifting into the wayward breeze whistling through the dark and dense foliage. A low growl rises (such an unusual sound, from a creature of prey – but she had never allowed herself to be a victim; she is predatory in so many ways), reverberating in her throat as what is left of her heart-piercing spike is drawn back into her body, while the rest remain.
It does not hurt physically (and perhaps it is obvious by the way her gaze barely flinches; only narrowing with disdain) but there is a small piece of frustration that has lapsed into uncertainty (and thus, her ego is bruised). She was no match for the ability to destroy on a molecular level – only her agility could ensure that her ability to change and shape her bone structure would bring an end to her unwieldy opponent. She would never confess, not even to herself, that she could not end her, should she desire it – even if it were the truth.
Her teeth, blunt but perfectly aligned, gleam in the pale light of the dimly lit woodland – bared angrily as the temptation to take the delicate flesh beneath her jawline in between (to draw blood) becomes stronger. She does not permit her to pull away, nor to create any distance at all, try as though Heartfire might.
As she recoils, Ellyse presses closer, and with every particle of space that is taken up by the warmth of her gilded body, her bones retract. Still an ever-present barrier between the blue roan and her own skin, but slowly closing the void between them, until the darkness of her searching hazel eyes are boring into hers, her mouth so close to hers that she can nearly taste the sweetness of the fauna still lingering on her tongue.
”I do not coddle my children,” she murmurs, her anger level but still simmering. ”he does not owe me any explanation for any extended absence, thus I did not search for him, but had I known you had taken him for your own for your petty little game –“ she pauses, her breath warm against her cheek, her mouth closest to her ear. ”I would have found you and I would have ripped your throat out myself.”
Ellyse