08-14-2016, 12:04 AM
i swallow my doubt, turn it inside out - find nothing but faith in nothing.
Her own limbs have grown stiff with disuse, and as she listens to the languishing caress of his deep and smoking voice, she flexes her slender legs and aching wings. The fragile bones and sinewy muscle twist and contort as she extends each slowly and deliberately, her dark eyes lingering on him as she takes in the very hardened lines of his jaw and the sunken shadows beneath his tired, wise eyes. Slowly, the tension seeps away and a low, heavy sigh emerges from her lungs as her whiskered lips part slightly to exhale. The very same wry smile tugs again at the corner of her mouth, and a generous, yet boisterous laugh rumbles in her otherwise slender and delicate throat.
"A man of the stars, are you? You are often up too late and gone too early to catch wind of, Magnus," She muses, amusement laced between each careful word. Her eyes stray at last from his own as she settles beside him, her attention drawn to the old, drying bark of the Mother Tree and the delicate way her weaving, aging branches reach up towards the bright blue sky, though it has since become tainted with brilliant goldenrod and tangerine with the onset of a falling sun. "but I, too, have seen you from afar. Or, perhaps, closer than you think."
The simper returns, mischief alight in her eyes as she gently circles around him, brushing her bristling feathers against the brittle bark of the tree. Her shoulder very nearly brushes against his, but she maintains her distance, neck craning as she peers past him to observe the wavering wheat and the gentle breeze that meanders through.
"Everything. Tell me everything," She says simply, "you have seen many more years than I. Where did it all begin for you? Have these golden gates always held you?" Her eyes, flickering still with something hidden away within, meet his again, observing the curiosity and caution that causes his strong features to flinch. "You must have a story or two to tell; don't we all?"
"A man of the stars, are you? You are often up too late and gone too early to catch wind of, Magnus," She muses, amusement laced between each careful word. Her eyes stray at last from his own as she settles beside him, her attention drawn to the old, drying bark of the Mother Tree and the delicate way her weaving, aging branches reach up towards the bright blue sky, though it has since become tainted with brilliant goldenrod and tangerine with the onset of a falling sun. "but I, too, have seen you from afar. Or, perhaps, closer than you think."
The simper returns, mischief alight in her eyes as she gently circles around him, brushing her bristling feathers against the brittle bark of the tree. Her shoulder very nearly brushes against his, but she maintains her distance, neck craning as she peers past him to observe the wavering wheat and the gentle breeze that meanders through.
"Everything. Tell me everything," She says simply, "you have seen many more years than I. Where did it all begin for you? Have these golden gates always held you?" Her eyes, flickering still with something hidden away within, meet his again, observing the curiosity and caution that causes his strong features to flinch. "You must have a story or two to tell; don't we all?"
Ellyse