please stay, for this fear will not die - any

[Noori]

Most days, most days stay the sole same
Please stay, for this fear it will not die
Down low, down amongst the thorn rows
Weeds grow, through the lilies and the vines

Carnage – the creator of all mischief. Besides the seasons of course. Noori fancied that they stood on a higher plying ground than the white devil; they did exist in an alternate universe, after all. Nevertheless, trouble makers of all sorts could be found in Beqanna. Winter had found Noori, Carnage had found Ramiel – and they both proved themselves champions. One of life, and the other of death.  The yin to her yang.

Little did she know, this young black man who approached is the king of this land, and a shifter. Less did she know that her sister Ea was supposedly to be Queen here, ruling beside him. In a Beqanna where she hadn’t sacrificed herself to three men and their lusts, perhaps she would have been Queen here. But now she knows that that is an unachievable goal. Noori is not a Queen – she is a Mother.

His voice rubs her the right way, as many male voices tend to. She glances to the intrigued curve of his lips, appreciates the way it stretches to his eyes. Grains of salt sift through his onyx fur, like snowflakes beginning to suffocate an ashen world. Halting slowly, the tree-born woman perks her ears and allows her lips to twirl into a careful, calculated smile. She may not know the social norms, but the norms of men are well known to her.

“Ramiel,” She murmurs breathfully, blinking her alabaster lashes coyly. The wind caresses her, billowing the scarlet fronds about her artistically crafted frame. Leaning forward timidly, she offers her Arabic head to the man, nostrils widening as though to inhale his scent all the better. As she does so, the emerald grasses stretch silently around his four legs, small blue flowers blooming through the blades. Their grasp is gentle, not meant to stay his movement; simply to embrace.

“I am Noori, of the Spring.” She straightens, eyes glimmering hopefully. This land on its own bears fruit; with members such as this young lad, it bears wonders. “I seek naught but company, and in good company I shall find loyalty.” Gazing off into the distance, a softly proud and snobbish aura grows around her. “The Deserts and the Valley stopped holding my interest some time ago… Perhaps you can offer me something more?” Her glowing gaze returns to his, occasionally surveying the rest of his onyx figure. Smiling, she waits patiently for the king’s reply.

noori