12-27-2017, 08:27 PM
Canaan
You give my life direction; you make everything so clear.
He is beside her, and that is more than enough to fill the breadth of his chest with a warmth unmatched by any. His shoulder brushes against her own, while the deep russet of his feathers flutter and bristle, tucked into place but tickling along the roundness of her supple barrel. She is deeply feminine, so heavy with the unborn product of love, of passion and devotion. She is radiant; glowing with the ethereal wonder of impending motherhood and he had never seen anything more beautiful than her supple curves shifting beneath the waning sunlight, or the gleam of delighted mischief in her eye.
He never thought he could love a single soul as much as he does love hers, but he is hers, through and through, and there is no doubt in his once uncertain heart that she is his, too.
There is a swelling of pride in his chest at the implication – the life stirring inside of her womb is as much a part of him as it is a part of her, and though there is still a shred of doubt clutching to him, refusing to be shaken, he is enthralled at the thought of life emerging from the one who held his heart. Through and through. His dark lips brush across her jawline, and then her cheek, with a gentle kiss – he is enamored with her, as much can be seen in the fondness hidden in the golden flecks of his deep hazel gaze.
”I am never far,” he says simply, and such is the truth. He would not miss the birth of his daughter – he had missed too much, for too long! His gaze flickers to Amet, and the wry grin drawn upon his gilded mouth, and a deep and hearty laugh emerges from his throat at his insistence. ”Uncle Amet! I would not have it any other way, brother,” he muses with a glimmer of light in his stare, his own lips parted with a lopsided grin. It soon falters, however, with the soft confession that his beloved is not at all well – and soon, his browline is furrowed, and his mouth downturned with a deep frown of concern.
”Jah ..?”
She is suddenly wracked with pain, and his heartbeat quickens inside of his chest, with a tendril of dread. He knew all too well that such discomfort often came with consequence in the throes of pregnancy, and though his heart is light and pounding at the idea of finally meeting his unborn child, he is much like any testosterone-driven male is of childbirth - clueless.
Soon, she is amid the supple soil and thick, lush vegetation, a sheen of sweat breaking out across the length of her scarlet silhouette – when the ground is dampened with release, as her womb prepares to expel the beauty of new life onto the tendrils of greenery enveloping her body. With his neck outstretched, his lips press soft, feather-light kisses across her brow, and down the long, slender curve of her neck, brushing the tousled tresses of her mane back away from her deep emerald gaze – grimacing from each contraction, though he yearns to soothe her, to take away her pain.
All the while, a wind is born from the hearth of his chest, sweeping over her to provide her some solace from the fading heat of day, swathing her dampened body with a cool current of air.
”Jah-Lilah,” he breathes, unsure, wishing he knew what he could do to help her.
And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight.
@[Jah-Lilah] @[Amet]