hold high in the lowlands; woolf

[Kora]

He tells her of spinning galaxies and stardust. In a previous life, Kora’s cerulean eyes might have widened, her soft lips forming a small circle of wonder at the mere idea – but her intrigue is much more subtle now. She allows the imagery he provides to fuel her craft, the swirling snowscape around them becoming more and more like the space he describes. There is magic in him – she can see it in the faint blue energy that courses forth, soaking into the earth and ripening the snowfall for her purposes – and there is something in her that is undeniably drawn to him. To his power. Even as he steps forward, a sense of magnetism stirs between them. Yet the allure is curiously unemotional, almost scientific in nature. An experiment. Hunger flickers in her expression when he comes closer, asking her whether she is endless, too. Under his analytical gaze, her reply comes as a brazen whisper. “I will be once more, I swear it.” Wave after wave, she had been stripped of her old self; had she still been the frightened girl of her past, his proximity would have made her nervous. Touch had always reminded her of the Flash – of electrocution. She’d never craved it before, and she doesn’t crave it now. Yet neither does the possibility scare her as it once did. She isn’t scared at all. Kora finds this complete lack of fear so empowering that she decides to indulge in it. ‘Do you miss it, sometimes?’ She doesn’t reply – not at first. He is close enough that she doesn’t have to reach far before she makes contact with the warmth of his mulberry crest. The ice in her veins hums as layers of translucent armor begins to spread across the bridge of her skin to his like a frozen wave; and as it washes over him, her snowlaced lashes flutter closed. In the slow spiral of constellations and the muted quiet of snowfall, she contemplates the play of warmth and cold against her lips – the slight sting of it. Finally, she answers him with a murmured breath. “Always.” While she pulls away just enough to be heard, icy remnants of her touch are left to wend and weave upon his amaranthine flesh. A distant look is in her eyes even as her mouth curves – perhaps she wishes to test a theory. “Will you remind me?” kora vanished winterchild of riagan and rayelle