Kiss me again
Kiss me until I am sick of it
As he heads down the Mountain (silent again or so he thinks) he starts to feel a little ill. It starts as a small headache behind his eyes. It's not unlike the hangovers he constantly has so he thinks little of it. By the time he’s halfway down the rocky path, the headache has turned into a full blown migraine and he squints against the light of a bright spring sun a scowl on his dark lips. When he reaches the bottom, he is slightly stumbling as his body is consumed by fever. There’s no way he can make it back to the Pampas like this and so he stumbles towards the Meadow, towards the old thicket he had once called his home.
It’s still intact, only brief scents of long gone fox and mice linger, as his knees buckle beneath him and he falls gratefully to the soft grass, exhausted and aching. As the sun rises higher in the sky he becomes overwhelmed by the mystery sickness and falls into a fitful sleep, his red eyes hiding themselves from the intensity of sunlight beneath dark lashes. He swears he can hear the fae, laughing and touching him. He blames it on the fever, on hallucinations that prey on the desires in his withered heart. Little hands press against his heated body, beads of sweat forming across his dark pelt. They run their fingers through the long waves of his mane, braiding and twisting. A whisper in his ear, ”Our last gift for you. Be careful what you wish for.”, followed by more raucous laughter and the sweet floral scent of flowers and nectar. He can feel the honeyed syrup sliding down his throat and he finally falls into a deep slumber, dreaming of the little creatures that dance and celebrate around him. Dreams of clear crystals and deep blue oceans. Dreams of unnaturally bright flowers and a large black snake that looks directly at him and shares the same blood-red eyes as himself.
He sleeps and he sleeps.
Two days pass before he finally awakens from his enchantment and when he does he feels… different. The ache and fever are gone and he feels ridiculously good. Stretching leisurely with a large yawn, he glances down at himself… And freezes. Gold glitter runs along his shoulders and its not like the pollen that his brethren had once decorated him in. It seems a part of him now, bright flecks permanently fixed into the oily black of his skin. His ears curve back against his skull in confusion and even that feels strange, as if the tips of his ears brush back farther than they had before. He rises from the thicket floor and curling his neck, angles his head to look at the rest of himself. The shiny tresses of black are now adorned with bright layers of gold, flowers and small braids have been woven back into his mane and tail. The fae had come back. They must have done this.
He still feels out of sorts so he carefully picks his way towards the waterfall. What he needs is to take a long cool drink as he tries to figure out what had happened, his throat burns as if he hadn't drank anything in weeks. As he reaches the clear water he goes to bend his head… And stops once again. His reflection… His reflection…. The red eyes remain set deep in his handsome face but the hard angled lines of his skull are adorned in that same glittering gold, accenting along his cheekbones and eyes. A mixture of raven and gold sweep across his forehead but it’s his ears that have made his breath hitch. They are long and tapered, like the elves of old. Like the fae.
“No way…” He whispers to himself, his dark red eyes wide with surprise and realization. They had heard him after all. A wide grin slowly spreads across his features and he starts to laugh. He laughs and he laughs until his sides heave and his eyes water. He was no longer mortal. He was Fae. He was finally one of them.
Obscene
@[Radar] Please give me one of your ponies <3
@Any