[mature] Isn't it lovely? | Canaan | Private

[Canaan]

Canaan

And maybe, I'll find out a way to make it back someday.
To watch you, to guide you through the darkest of your days.

  She is beautiful.

  Of that, he is certain. She is carved of strong muscle, wanderlust: flora, and fauna. She is as if she had always been – a steadfast presence in the lives of his children, in the life of Circinae, where she so tenderly cradled her heart and soothed the heat that rose inside of her with a gentle caress he longed to see up close. She had come to know her as he had never been able to; in a way that time had not allowed. Jah-Lilah had seen his boys in their youth, growing, changing, in a way that he never had been able to. Circinae had come to find him when his absence no longer seemed as if it were merely of his own choosing, and Jah-Lilah had followed with the same yearning to find him as she had, and yet, she had never even known him.

  She knew him, as he knew her – two kindred spirits, wild and wanton, seeking to move and to never stay and yet each had found an anchor in the water nymph that had stolen both of their hearts. He felt as if he was so often dancing with her – a lingering stare, a brush of skin – he often wondered if he was imagining the chemistry crackling between them. Perhaps it was merely the electrical current that ran beneath her skin. It tempted him; drew him closer – high voltage energy drawing in the heavy wind current of his wanderers’ soul – he wondered how she might taste beneath him. It is a fleeting thought – one drawn to the surface by the way her hips sway to and fro with raw femininity; he understood all too well what drew Circinae to her beyond her sharp wit and fierce heart.

  When she does call for him, it is an echo that weaves its way through the dimly lit thicket, enveloping him in the cadence of her own. He is certain, then, that she is luring him deeper into the woodland with a purpose. So often, as his teeth gently raked along the emerald-tinted spine of his heart while Jah-Lilah would affectionately preen her tangled tresses, Circinae would find a way to slide out from between, to glide the length of her body against her own or against his own – pressing them closer together, his gilded skin against hers of emblazoned fire. He felt the heat then.

  He can feel it again, stirring him from his reverie, while his dark legs carry him deeper into the forest, a soft call made for her from the confinement of his throat – and there she is, filled with an energy all her own. A speckling of sunlight peeking through the heavy canopy overhead, draped over the vivid mahogany of her skin. There is a hint of smile in the corner of his dark mouth as his finely preened feathers bristle and flatten against the hollowed bones of his wings; his curiosity is piqued – and again, he is left wondering if he were imagining the mischievous gleam in her eye, or the way her hip is cocked to show him the entire length of her shapely body.

  His mouth is dry; his throat is parched.

  ”You called,” he murmurs softly, moving close enough to her to see the true depth of her emerald gaze, enough to feel her sweet breath across his cheek. ”I’ve come.”

If a great wave shall fall and fall upon us all,
then I hope there's someone out there who can bring me back to you.