Merida
Wondering where you've been all my life, I just started living
All this talk of danger and once again he reminds her why she should never be afraid. Not like she used to be, when she traveled the world alone and weak without anything to defend herself. She’s different now, thanks to him finding her in the forest many years ago. It’s funny how it has taken them this long to get to where they are now - kin, lovers, partners. She had never thought she would value the feeling of being wanted (love was for fools who chased after nothing) but he has made her a believer. Never would she admit that she had once been terrified of wandering alone and now she sits in the forest of madness and death, curled beneath his chest like it is the safest place in the world. Because it is.
She snarls at him as the massive bulk of his envelopes the petiteness of her flaming frame, but it is all in play. There is a soft bark of protest that escapes her lips as he easily turns her over. He is right - all it would take is a little twist to escape the prison he’s put her in - but she allows herself to be caught, the snarl on her mouth quickly turning into a mischievous smirk (one that looks quite fitting on the snout of a fox.) She’s about to ask him why in the world he would want to talk about her, but the tender part of her white stomach is being slathered with kisses and huffs of warm breath. There is a laugh that escapes her throat, her black-laced forepaws stretching up to attempt to knock his snout away from her, boxing him in the jaw a few times playfully but not really wanting him to stop.
The fox hears him as her attempts to shove him away suddenly lessen, one paw pressing gently against his broad chest while the other is folded preenly against her ribs. Still lying flat, she turns her head in the dirt to glance at the rock formation that she had been quick to label as their resting place, surveying it again with an intense red gaze through thoughtful, narrow lids. He’s still whuffling into her fur and a broad grin flashes onto her black-lined lips. “Ours,” she repeats, the alto of her snarling voice matching the intensity in which he had growled to her his suggestion. Gracefully and in one swift movement, the fox reaches her head up to nip at the underside of his strong jaw, then twisting and leaping away from his shower of affection.
Merida saunters towards the den (and perhaps he has bounded after her), giving it one more look before throwing her head over her shoulder at Crevan, her smoldering gaze watching him expectantly. She pauses, swaying her white-tipped tail behind her slowly. Merida shifts (just for him, always for him) just before the opening of what would become their new home. The equine replaces the vulpine, but the look is all the same - watching him over her shoulder, her flaming red tail slipping back against the obsidian of her smooth haunches, peppered with freckles of intense scarlet.
“Well, Crevan?” Her voice challenges him, a single brow rising as the same cunning smile curls onto charcoal lips. Perhaps he would be able to hear the desperation that lingers beneath the sultry sound of her voice; to be chased down and hunted, but only by him.
@[Crevan]
oh lawd