05-06-2021, 12:37 AM
so make your siren's call and sing all you want, I will not hear what you have to say --
Having no attachment to any particular land, Varick had not hesitated when the family had decided to move to Nerine. When he had first left the island waters he had been born in he had had every intention of exploring as far as he could go, even if it meant leaving Beqanna. Settling in Tephra had not been the goal, and had he not met Sabbath the moment he found its shore he likely would not have stayed for more than a few days.
For someone that so badly had longed for freedom, he had been all too willing to essentially shackle himself to her side, though the only prison bars were ones of his own making. He knows Sabbath would not stop him should he ever leave; her pride would never let her do such a thing as asking him to stay.
Luckily for him, and perhaps some days unluckily for her, he had no intention of leaving her.
It’s why he trails along dutifully when she caves (easily, he notices with amusement) to Crowns desire to leave Tephra, falling into step alongside her. If anything he was pleased at the thought of being somewhere colder, somewhere that the sun did not so easily melt away the frost of his scales. Nerine had a wild, ruggedness to it that he could appreciate, with the sheer cliffs that dropped suddenly to the crashing waves, and the overcast skies that always seemed to be threatening rain.
His eyes follow Sabbath when she separates herself from the group not long after they arrive, and he hesitates a moment before following her. The dim sun catches the sage-green of her eyes and illuminates that whisper of a smile, and his heart rattles inside of its cage at the sight. He always found her ferociously beautiful, but anytime she offered him even a glimpse of softness he became enamored all over again. “Yes,” he answers her with his own crooked grin, the kind that does not quite show the sharpness of his teeth. “But, they’re pretty fantastic kids, so they deserve it,” he says while making only a half-hearted attempt to dodge her bite against his cheek. “Though I may be biased.”
He falls quiet though when her tone turns serious, and though her eyes are focused on the waves, his are focused on her. Getting her to reveal even the smallest pieces of herself has been a process; one that he often fails miserably at, and he has learned that it is better to simply keep quiet and accept whatever she offers without trying to ask for more. Even though he would readily cut himself open and let her see every darkness and insecurity that he himself harbored, he knew it was not ever going to be so easy for her.
“I guess I always assumed what you liked best about me went by the names of Crowns, Katarine, and Riptide,” he says with a quirk of his lips, using his own humor to soften the lack of emotion in her words. But at the feel of her shoulder leaning against him, slight though it may be, he grows more solemn. Even with the cold of Nerine her body felt warm in comparison to his frosted scales, and the feel of her against him sends a tremor up his spine that forces him to clench his jaw to keep from reaching over to caress her. “I love everything about you, Sabbath,” comes the low baritone of his voice, shifting his weight just enough to press lightly back into her, his muzzle skimming against her neck. “I would never want you to change.”
For someone that so badly had longed for freedom, he had been all too willing to essentially shackle himself to her side, though the only prison bars were ones of his own making. He knows Sabbath would not stop him should he ever leave; her pride would never let her do such a thing as asking him to stay.
Luckily for him, and perhaps some days unluckily for her, he had no intention of leaving her.
It’s why he trails along dutifully when she caves (easily, he notices with amusement) to Crowns desire to leave Tephra, falling into step alongside her. If anything he was pleased at the thought of being somewhere colder, somewhere that the sun did not so easily melt away the frost of his scales. Nerine had a wild, ruggedness to it that he could appreciate, with the sheer cliffs that dropped suddenly to the crashing waves, and the overcast skies that always seemed to be threatening rain.
His eyes follow Sabbath when she separates herself from the group not long after they arrive, and he hesitates a moment before following her. The dim sun catches the sage-green of her eyes and illuminates that whisper of a smile, and his heart rattles inside of its cage at the sight. He always found her ferociously beautiful, but anytime she offered him even a glimpse of softness he became enamored all over again. “Yes,” he answers her with his own crooked grin, the kind that does not quite show the sharpness of his teeth. “But, they’re pretty fantastic kids, so they deserve it,” he says while making only a half-hearted attempt to dodge her bite against his cheek. “Though I may be biased.”
He falls quiet though when her tone turns serious, and though her eyes are focused on the waves, his are focused on her. Getting her to reveal even the smallest pieces of herself has been a process; one that he often fails miserably at, and he has learned that it is better to simply keep quiet and accept whatever she offers without trying to ask for more. Even though he would readily cut himself open and let her see every darkness and insecurity that he himself harbored, he knew it was not ever going to be so easy for her.
“I guess I always assumed what you liked best about me went by the names of Crowns, Katarine, and Riptide,” he says with a quirk of his lips, using his own humor to soften the lack of emotion in her words. But at the feel of her shoulder leaning against him, slight though it may be, he grows more solemn. Even with the cold of Nerine her body felt warm in comparison to his frosted scales, and the feel of her against him sends a tremor up his spine that forces him to clench his jaw to keep from reaching over to caress her. “I love everything about you, Sabbath,” comes the low baritone of his voice, shifting his weight just enough to press lightly back into her, his muzzle skimming against her neck. “I would never want you to change.”
VARICK
@[Sabbath]