02-10-2021, 05:47 PM
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When they had first met, Cheri’s father had appeared from the shadows unexpectedly. It hadn’t been the best timing; even though Targaryen was a boy (and he is on the cusp of manhood now, even though he barely gives thought to puberty and considers himself still a child), he had understood that standing flank-to-flank with your wing draped over someone’s daughter wasn’t the best introduction. Although he couldn’t explain why, he had felt almost shameful at the situation, and it had taken him a few days to recover.
Seeing Cheri’s father in Taiga had reignited that embarrassment, but Targaryen had forced himself to muster every little piece of maturity from within so he wouldn’t squirm under the stallion’s stern blue eyes. It had been one of the hardest things he’d done, but the boy had managed to keep his own brown gaze on Yanhua’s until he received permission to stay in Taiga.
Targaryen wanders with a relaxed step now, comfortable under the watchful eyes of the redwoods. Their gazes are easier to bear, even feeling familiar. His mother is one of them — a great, glowing, rough tree which remains rooted in a place deep within the Forest — and the shifting colors of his body suggests that he is distantly related to them.
When Cheri’s voice laughs from the shadows, the boy feels his pulse quicken. “Cheri!” He is pleased to see the glowing filly seems fine after the tousle with the monster, and he shuffles his wings at the prickling feeling that accompanies thinking about the creature. Targaryen leans to bump into her shoulder as she stops beside him. This close, he can see the stones that rise above her pale eyes. He thinks they are beautiful; twin mountains surrounded by a black sea that is cut through with the colorful strands of her forelock like elegant, winding islands.
There is an entire world in the details of her face, Targaryen realizes.
Cheri’s smile reminds him of her question, and his soft brown eyes move down to catch her eyes. “Absolutely! I was hoping to find you, actually. I think I need an educated guide like you to make sure I don’t get lost in these woods.” If it weren’t for her, Targaryen thinks he would probably wander in the redwoods for days; the combination of tall ancient trees, thick fog that clings to his skin, and the endless shadows would turn any newcomer into a lost soul.
Seeing Cheri’s father in Taiga had reignited that embarrassment, but Targaryen had forced himself to muster every little piece of maturity from within so he wouldn’t squirm under the stallion’s stern blue eyes. It had been one of the hardest things he’d done, but the boy had managed to keep his own brown gaze on Yanhua’s until he received permission to stay in Taiga.
Targaryen wanders with a relaxed step now, comfortable under the watchful eyes of the redwoods. Their gazes are easier to bear, even feeling familiar. His mother is one of them — a great, glowing, rough tree which remains rooted in a place deep within the Forest — and the shifting colors of his body suggests that he is distantly related to them.
When Cheri’s voice laughs from the shadows, the boy feels his pulse quicken. “Cheri!” He is pleased to see the glowing filly seems fine after the tousle with the monster, and he shuffles his wings at the prickling feeling that accompanies thinking about the creature. Targaryen leans to bump into her shoulder as she stops beside him. This close, he can see the stones that rise above her pale eyes. He thinks they are beautiful; twin mountains surrounded by a black sea that is cut through with the colorful strands of her forelock like elegant, winding islands.
There is an entire world in the details of her face, Targaryen realizes.
Cheri’s smile reminds him of her question, and his soft brown eyes move down to catch her eyes. “Absolutely! I was hoping to find you, actually. I think I need an educated guide like you to make sure I don’t get lost in these woods.” If it weren’t for her, Targaryen thinks he would probably wander in the redwoods for days; the combination of tall ancient trees, thick fog that clings to his skin, and the endless shadows would turn any newcomer into a lost soul.
@[Cheri]