04-19-2021, 03:32 PM
The light that meets the dark
Well, at least he hadn’t lost his sense of humor, had he? Cheri admits that if Targaryen can’t make her smile then the world would truly be a darker place than it already was, and his comment about the earthquake gives him a roll of her eyes and brings out a soft, airy laugh from her lungs. “Cheeky boy.” She thought of him, but it never exhausted her. He had a knack for being comfortably cheesy, for spreading the humor over disaster until it made the taste bearable on the tongue. She considered it a gift of his and often wondered if it might be some magical ability rather than just his personality.
Likewise he humors her command, because Cheri is not the type to enforce anything. When it comes to their relationship Targaryen has always been compliant to her demands when she made them. It’s why she’s chosen him as a constant playmate over Rey, though more often than not she’s started to entertain herself with Memorie’s company. They’re half-siblings after all, and her lovely sister is capable of understanding things the males don’t. But her Yenny is always the one she spends the most time with; he’s secretly her favorite, and he accepts her for who she is though the age difference between them is a wide gap.
So she returns the favor as best as she knows how. Her magic flows out of her and into him, and just like that first time on the River’s shore Cheri feels a tingling sense of awareness that they are connected somehow.
“With you around I’ll be a master in no time.” She smirks back, a bit light-headed. It gives him the opportunity to shove her again, and just like before Cheri is off chasing after him through the dark, laughingly aware that he’s got no idea where he’s going.
It doesn’t matter. They reach a break in the maze of redwoods and the meadow is just beyond it, so Cheri branches away from her companion and makes for the clearing with a heightened sense of awareness. Her gait slows gradually, from a canter to a trot and then down into a placid walk, and the darkness of the open field swallows everything but the light of her wings and the pale glow coming off her white markings. With an ear tipped in his direction, Cheri guided Targaryen with the sound of her voice.
“I can hardly picture how it looked before, but this is the place.” She told him, sighing. The grass felt brittle underneath her carefully placed hooves, crackling a bit too loudly for comfort. “Pappa would guide the herd here on the sunniest days in the spring and summer. I used to always look forward to it.” She stopped, afraid to go any further from the safety of the forest.
Now the memories seemed tainted by black, like everything else.
Likewise he humors her command, because Cheri is not the type to enforce anything. When it comes to their relationship Targaryen has always been compliant to her demands when she made them. It’s why she’s chosen him as a constant playmate over Rey, though more often than not she’s started to entertain herself with Memorie’s company. They’re half-siblings after all, and her lovely sister is capable of understanding things the males don’t. But her Yenny is always the one she spends the most time with; he’s secretly her favorite, and he accepts her for who she is though the age difference between them is a wide gap.
So she returns the favor as best as she knows how. Her magic flows out of her and into him, and just like that first time on the River’s shore Cheri feels a tingling sense of awareness that they are connected somehow.
“With you around I’ll be a master in no time.” She smirks back, a bit light-headed. It gives him the opportunity to shove her again, and just like before Cheri is off chasing after him through the dark, laughingly aware that he’s got no idea where he’s going.
It doesn’t matter. They reach a break in the maze of redwoods and the meadow is just beyond it, so Cheri branches away from her companion and makes for the clearing with a heightened sense of awareness. Her gait slows gradually, from a canter to a trot and then down into a placid walk, and the darkness of the open field swallows everything but the light of her wings and the pale glow coming off her white markings. With an ear tipped in his direction, Cheri guided Targaryen with the sound of her voice.
“I can hardly picture how it looked before, but this is the place.” She told him, sighing. The grass felt brittle underneath her carefully placed hooves, crackling a bit too loudly for comfort. “Pappa would guide the herd here on the sunniest days in the spring and summer. I used to always look forward to it.” She stopped, afraid to go any further from the safety of the forest.
Now the memories seemed tainted by black, like everything else.
@[Targaryen]