12-06-2018, 04:27 PM
Leilan
Glaciers melting in the dead of night
and the superstars sucked into the supermassive
and the superstars sucked into the supermassive
He takes a deep breath after finally making his own mouth stop (or perhaps it could have been just a long pauze); it had taken some time for Breckin to notice what he was doing or where this behaviour came from, and now... now she’s just laughing at him. His gaze narrows, the grey pool of brown and blue fighting to gain the upper hand, as he tries feign being upset by that challenging, knowing smile.
He’s not supposed to be endearing and cute. Hmpf.
She slowly stands; he has the feeling she doesn’t want his help so he stills his little twitch of muscle before rushing forward. Listening to her, he nods, silent a while, looking to the gold-marked girls. Perfect names for perfect girls - but it’s so hard. And he hadn’t exactly had time to think on this beforehand, so he has no names at the ready either.
We made them she corrects, and he shakes his head. ”You did all the work.” he noses her shoulder at this, but looks at the girls with a rather puzzled face. Still nameless. Blue eyes trace them as they wiggle and start to move. Two girls. Alive. Real. But he can’t possibly think of anything good enough for them, and he’s a little sad about that fact, disappointing himself perhaps.
He has to rely on their mother for that, like he had (more involuntary) with Chryseis, Thorgal and Ophanim. He’s right though, Breckins ideas are far better. He grins at the name Oisin, tugging on the white spotted mare’s ear. ”She is, isn’t she,” he says, looking at the twins warmly. At the name Eurwen, he just nods a bit more seriously. The little doe-eyed filly was more than just the regular fair, he figured. But then again he might be biased. Because he loves them more than anything. Easy how that goes.
”Those are perfect names. They fit much better than anything I could come up with.” Trailing his nose over Breckin’s rather sweaty neck, he tries to get rid of some of it’s humidity before she talks again (but that moment is rather short). Looking at her, he seems to calculate, then takes the gamble. ”I guess that’s fair, I do have a twin sister somewhere out there... But we should be glad it’s not triplets, like my mom was.” Feigning a serious face, his eyes glance rather green-ish at her then though, forsaking the chocolate of his father that he wore until recently; melted. Why does that always keep happening with her, he sometimes wonders. But he has no answer - or one. Depends how one looks at it. She knows him too well, by now.
He’s not supposed to be endearing and cute. Hmpf.
She slowly stands; he has the feeling she doesn’t want his help so he stills his little twitch of muscle before rushing forward. Listening to her, he nods, silent a while, looking to the gold-marked girls. Perfect names for perfect girls - but it’s so hard. And he hadn’t exactly had time to think on this beforehand, so he has no names at the ready either.
We made them she corrects, and he shakes his head. ”You did all the work.” he noses her shoulder at this, but looks at the girls with a rather puzzled face. Still nameless. Blue eyes trace them as they wiggle and start to move. Two girls. Alive. Real. But he can’t possibly think of anything good enough for them, and he’s a little sad about that fact, disappointing himself perhaps.
He has to rely on their mother for that, like he had (more involuntary) with Chryseis, Thorgal and Ophanim. He’s right though, Breckins ideas are far better. He grins at the name Oisin, tugging on the white spotted mare’s ear. ”She is, isn’t she,” he says, looking at the twins warmly. At the name Eurwen, he just nods a bit more seriously. The little doe-eyed filly was more than just the regular fair, he figured. But then again he might be biased. Because he loves them more than anything. Easy how that goes.
”Those are perfect names. They fit much better than anything I could come up with.” Trailing his nose over Breckin’s rather sweaty neck, he tries to get rid of some of it’s humidity before she talks again (but that moment is rather short). Looking at her, he seems to calculate, then takes the gamble. ”I guess that’s fair, I do have a twin sister somewhere out there... But we should be glad it’s not triplets, like my mom was.” Feigning a serious face, his eyes glance rather green-ish at her then though, forsaking the chocolate of his father that he wore until recently; melted. Why does that always keep happening with her, he sometimes wonders. But he has no answer - or one. Depends how one looks at it. She knows him too well, by now.
you set my soul alight
@[Breckin]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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