04-12-2021, 09:18 PM
The light that meets the dark
Targaryen had said her name hundreds of times before, so why did this time sound so different? He made the short word silvery with emotion, spoke it as if he were saying a thousand other things instead: things Cheri only barely understood herself. Out loud he kept talking, but inside of her head Cheri was dissecting any possible meaning behind the husky sigh of his breath or the relaxed, noble expression of his maturing face. Targaryen was… very handsome, she had to admit. More handsome than she remembered? Just as handsome as he’d always been? “Why am I suddenly obsessed? Snap out of it.” The young mare thought harshly, blinking in the sunlight.
“I’m glad to see you too, Yenny.” Cheri replied, the smile on her face blooming slowly. “Glad we’re home together again.” The black appy put on a brave face. This was Targaryen, she reminded herself. A stallion that could practically be her brother. She paced ahead, slid her head deftly into the groove of his white-patterned shoulder, and tried not to overthink things as her nose ruffled the fine feathers of his wing. He was incredibly warm to the touch, like a stone left out to bake in the sun. Cheri remembered that she practically galloped and flew the entire way here; she was probably sweaty.
Self-conscious, she cut the hug short and paced back a few bouncy strides.
“I should never have left you, I’m so sorry.” The dark mare apologized by ducking her head. Glittering strands of her vibrant green mane fell over her nose, veiling her face. She was the image of pure repentance; even her wings drooped at her sides. “I went on a quest with some of the others… but I ended up as a ghost on the beach.” Cheri explained pitifully.
She’d stayed that way, too. All through the dark days remaining, Cheri had floated among the quiet redwoods and lamented the loss of her grandmother, simultaneously trying to come to terms with feeling voidless and dead. It hadn’t been a great time, and she’d thought about his empty presence daily.
Now they were together again and the sun was back, and Cheri hardly felt like a voidless being at all — in fact she felt more alive than ever. “I missed you more than I realized.” She looked up thoughtfully at Targaryen, and there it was again: her heart thudded heavily in her chest. It was like being back in the meadow again, where that irritatingly rogue stallion had started a fire by toying with her emotions. Her tongue felt like heavy metal in her mouth. Cheri glanced away and then just as quickly glanced back, irritated with herself. This was Targaryen, she recalled; more firmly this time than the last. Her brother. Why couldn’t she get a grip on herself? First the meadow and now this, whatever ‘this’ feeling was. “You’re just exhausted. Sun-drenched.” She told herself, impatient to hear her friend’s reply.
“I’m glad to see you too, Yenny.” Cheri replied, the smile on her face blooming slowly. “Glad we’re home together again.” The black appy put on a brave face. This was Targaryen, she reminded herself. A stallion that could practically be her brother. She paced ahead, slid her head deftly into the groove of his white-patterned shoulder, and tried not to overthink things as her nose ruffled the fine feathers of his wing. He was incredibly warm to the touch, like a stone left out to bake in the sun. Cheri remembered that she practically galloped and flew the entire way here; she was probably sweaty.
Self-conscious, she cut the hug short and paced back a few bouncy strides.
“I should never have left you, I’m so sorry.” The dark mare apologized by ducking her head. Glittering strands of her vibrant green mane fell over her nose, veiling her face. She was the image of pure repentance; even her wings drooped at her sides. “I went on a quest with some of the others… but I ended up as a ghost on the beach.” Cheri explained pitifully.
She’d stayed that way, too. All through the dark days remaining, Cheri had floated among the quiet redwoods and lamented the loss of her grandmother, simultaneously trying to come to terms with feeling voidless and dead. It hadn’t been a great time, and she’d thought about his empty presence daily.
Now they were together again and the sun was back, and Cheri hardly felt like a voidless being at all — in fact she felt more alive than ever. “I missed you more than I realized.” She looked up thoughtfully at Targaryen, and there it was again: her heart thudded heavily in her chest. It was like being back in the meadow again, where that irritatingly rogue stallion had started a fire by toying with her emotions. Her tongue felt like heavy metal in her mouth. Cheri glanced away and then just as quickly glanced back, irritated with herself. This was Targaryen, she recalled; more firmly this time than the last. Her brother. Why couldn’t she get a grip on herself? First the meadow and now this, whatever ‘this’ feeling was. “You’re just exhausted. Sun-drenched.” She told herself, impatient to hear her friend’s reply.
@[Targaryen]