04-17-2018, 06:06 PM
the secret of our world is written in the stars
He is attracted to her immediately. Though it is not always physicality that Svedka always hopes for (though it is something he will never say no to), there is something besides her outwards beauty that draws him in. Her voice is as light and fresh as her pale coat, and her laugh is like the tinkling of sea glass along a white shoreline of the sea. It is her laugh that causes him to step closer, and though he is still damp and dripping from his swim in the lake, it does not seem to bother him as he drip-dries in the summer sun.
“She speaks highly of me because she has to,” he admits with obvious laughter, wrinkling his golden nose and offering Ilma a broad smile. “otherwise people will question her own character.”
His brows quirk upwards as she continues and mentions Kagerus - his meeting with her had been fleeting and brief, but filled with so much raw emotion and desire that even now he cannot figure out what happened that afternoon beneath his willow tree. The surface of his withers still show the mark where she had dug into his flesh wantonly, though there is no physical sign that shows the questions she asked him, or how dark she made him feel. He finds it interesting that Kagerus had met Ilma, and were possibly even friends, with someone who reminds him so much of himself - light, gentle, sunny. Kagerus seemed to have despised that part about him (not that he would pretend to be anything else for her, and she found herself wanting him all the same, despite his light-heartedness compared to the darkness within her), but Ilma seems to radiate from it. He notices that she is even more radiant as the sun begins to shift and tilt through the soft branches of his willow, playing shadowy patterns on her pearly coat, leading his eyes over her to the white and billowing feathers of her wings, on which he lingers on for a moment. He had always fancied wings, and hers were the most flawless he had seen - perfectly white.
“I’m glad you decided to stay,” he says truthfully, his eyes slowly floating back to hers. “It’s true, I do find myself needing to wander more often than not.” He dips his head slightly (embarrassment?), still looking up at her through the dampness of his white and blue forelock, where behind his ear twirls the red and black feathers from his birth. “But each time I come back I always find myself looking for a reason to stay longer than before.” He smiles, tucking his chin to his chest and then raising his head, a soft chuckle reverberating in his chest. “I’m sorry I haven’t met you sooner, Ilma. I must not be doing my job the way I’m supposed to.”
“She speaks highly of me because she has to,” he admits with obvious laughter, wrinkling his golden nose and offering Ilma a broad smile. “otherwise people will question her own character.”
His brows quirk upwards as she continues and mentions Kagerus - his meeting with her had been fleeting and brief, but filled with so much raw emotion and desire that even now he cannot figure out what happened that afternoon beneath his willow tree. The surface of his withers still show the mark where she had dug into his flesh wantonly, though there is no physical sign that shows the questions she asked him, or how dark she made him feel. He finds it interesting that Kagerus had met Ilma, and were possibly even friends, with someone who reminds him so much of himself - light, gentle, sunny. Kagerus seemed to have despised that part about him (not that he would pretend to be anything else for her, and she found herself wanting him all the same, despite his light-heartedness compared to the darkness within her), but Ilma seems to radiate from it. He notices that she is even more radiant as the sun begins to shift and tilt through the soft branches of his willow, playing shadowy patterns on her pearly coat, leading his eyes over her to the white and billowing feathers of her wings, on which he lingers on for a moment. He had always fancied wings, and hers were the most flawless he had seen - perfectly white.
“I’m glad you decided to stay,” he says truthfully, his eyes slowly floating back to hers. “It’s true, I do find myself needing to wander more often than not.” He dips his head slightly (embarrassment?), still looking up at her through the dampness of his white and blue forelock, where behind his ear twirls the red and black feathers from his birth. “But each time I come back I always find myself looking for a reason to stay longer than before.” He smiles, tucking his chin to his chest and then raising his head, a soft chuckle reverberating in his chest. “I’m sorry I haven’t met you sooner, Ilma. I must not be doing my job the way I’m supposed to.”
(be my escape)
Svedka
@[Ilma]