04-11-2018, 06:27 PM
the secret of our world is written in the stars
She is rough and plain with her expression, meeting him with a disappointed frown and a tilt of her ears backwards to her neck. He finds it curious, wondering what exactly he has done to make her dislike him so. Of course, the possibility of reasons are far from his thoughts and he could never guess the inner-workings of her own mind. But even with her displeased look (that still are somehow radiant on her two-toned features) he remains, a wild and flowing spirit that can never turn down someone who had found their way to him. Kagerus remains, too - and that fact alone allows the small curl of a smile to simper onto his lips, unwavering as she flinches away from him. The movement surprises him, but his expression remains the same - calm, content, curious - and his cerulean eyes follow her carefully, noticing the way her skin shivers uncontrollably beneath the warmth of his breath.
Svedka cannot tell if it is in desire or fear that she quakes before him, so it the reason he stops to rest his mouth on the cusp of her slender shoulder. He knows he can be too forward - too extroverted, for some - so he quiets himself and his mind; perhaps this is not going where he thought she was leading him. Perhaps she has sought him out for an entirely different reason, but Svedka is one to give her what she asks for, just to see something other than disappointment dance across her eyes.
But then her voice is found on the solidarity of the summer air. A single golden ear flicks towards her, a huff of his breath warming her skin with its delicate touch. There is a slight hum in his throat in response - a nonverbal agreement - as he curves his neck beneath the dense touch of her lips.
The sun grows larger in the sky as it begins to sink, the afternoon shadows shifting as dusk slowly begins to arrive across the mountain-shrouded valley. The lake is still and quiet behind them, and the large gusts of winds that once ripped through the valley quiet themselves into a steady breeze, spinning his mane away from the arch of his muscled neck. His nostrils flare and shudder with a deep nicker as her voice warms the flesh of his gold and ivory neck, eyes sparkling.
‘Tell me,’
A pause - he inhales, eyes soft with sensuality, ever trusting, ever curious.
‘Have you ever wanted to die?’
The stallion has barely processed her words before her teeth sink into his withers, biting down hard on the skin that resides there. Svedka tenses beneath the sudden pressure, throwing his head upwards as a single foreleg lifts and strikes the ground beneath them in shock and pain. It is he who now quivers - and even he cannot tell if it is in desire or fear. The stallion has never been met with the kind of rage and anger that thrums beneath Kagerus’ skin, and though it is unfamiliar territory, he follows her blindly.
She pulls away, the blood on her mouth staining the white of his mane that falls through her teeth. He backs up so that they are cheek to cheek again, unsure of who is in control at the moment. He snorts sharply, fire burning deep in his belly and loins, nostrils fluttering wildly. He continues to stay close to her, though not willing to bring himself into her personal space just yet. Her question - asked what seems like ages ago - finally rings unsettlingly in his ears as her next sentence commands an answer.
An eyebrow quirks, then his blue gaze becomes shrouded by a furrowed brow.
“Wanted to?” he repeats thoughtfully, though his eyes now scour her body casually, still confused as to what direction she wants him to go. Svedka inhales deeply (perhaps to relax his heart rate or to calm the dark thoughts that she has suddenly put in his head), inching towards her as his gaze finally meets her again. “No, Kagerus. Death is the end of the story - the finale.” A thing he wishes to avoid at all costs.
Finding himself once again, he draws close to her despite the sting she has left on his withers, and the fact that she could possibly inflict more. His voice is quiet as it falls from his dandelion-colored lips, hovering where her cheek meets her throat, warm against her flesh in the sultry evening. “I have dreamed of it, though.” A pause as he inhales sharply, her scent washing over him as he takes her in. “What do you dream of, Kagerus?”
Svedka cannot tell if it is in desire or fear that she quakes before him, so it the reason he stops to rest his mouth on the cusp of her slender shoulder. He knows he can be too forward - too extroverted, for some - so he quiets himself and his mind; perhaps this is not going where he thought she was leading him. Perhaps she has sought him out for an entirely different reason, but Svedka is one to give her what she asks for, just to see something other than disappointment dance across her eyes.
But then her voice is found on the solidarity of the summer air. A single golden ear flicks towards her, a huff of his breath warming her skin with its delicate touch. There is a slight hum in his throat in response - a nonverbal agreement - as he curves his neck beneath the dense touch of her lips.
The sun grows larger in the sky as it begins to sink, the afternoon shadows shifting as dusk slowly begins to arrive across the mountain-shrouded valley. The lake is still and quiet behind them, and the large gusts of winds that once ripped through the valley quiet themselves into a steady breeze, spinning his mane away from the arch of his muscled neck. His nostrils flare and shudder with a deep nicker as her voice warms the flesh of his gold and ivory neck, eyes sparkling.
‘Tell me,’
A pause - he inhales, eyes soft with sensuality, ever trusting, ever curious.
‘Have you ever wanted to die?’
The stallion has barely processed her words before her teeth sink into his withers, biting down hard on the skin that resides there. Svedka tenses beneath the sudden pressure, throwing his head upwards as a single foreleg lifts and strikes the ground beneath them in shock and pain. It is he who now quivers - and even he cannot tell if it is in desire or fear. The stallion has never been met with the kind of rage and anger that thrums beneath Kagerus’ skin, and though it is unfamiliar territory, he follows her blindly.
She pulls away, the blood on her mouth staining the white of his mane that falls through her teeth. He backs up so that they are cheek to cheek again, unsure of who is in control at the moment. He snorts sharply, fire burning deep in his belly and loins, nostrils fluttering wildly. He continues to stay close to her, though not willing to bring himself into her personal space just yet. Her question - asked what seems like ages ago - finally rings unsettlingly in his ears as her next sentence commands an answer.
An eyebrow quirks, then his blue gaze becomes shrouded by a furrowed brow.
“Wanted to?” he repeats thoughtfully, though his eyes now scour her body casually, still confused as to what direction she wants him to go. Svedka inhales deeply (perhaps to relax his heart rate or to calm the dark thoughts that she has suddenly put in his head), inching towards her as his gaze finally meets her again. “No, Kagerus. Death is the end of the story - the finale.” A thing he wishes to avoid at all costs.
Finding himself once again, he draws close to her despite the sting she has left on his withers, and the fact that she could possibly inflict more. His voice is quiet as it falls from his dandelion-colored lips, hovering where her cheek meets her throat, warm against her flesh in the sultry evening. “I have dreamed of it, though.” A pause as he inhales sharply, her scent washing over him as he takes her in. “What do you dream of, Kagerus?”
(be my escape)
Svedka
@[Kagerus]