Kiss me again
Kiss me until I am sick of it
The snow melts revealing a brighter world beneath the frost. Birds sing, the sun shines, and new buds are seen on the sparse tree limbs. Even the flowers bloom early, greedy to be seen and to soak up the light that had long been denied to them. The Pampas is calm and beautiful and serene.
But there’s a storm threatening to break on its horizon.
The fae still shun him, still hide from him, still don’t return to the petals that they had once danced upon. He’s even checked the Meadow for his old friends with not a word, not a peep. He still finds signs of their presence but it’s become clear that he will not find them as long as they don’t want to be found. That ache in his chest seems a little larger, a little heavier. It's unexpected, how he misses their blunt words, their prankster ways, even the pollen that they had smeared across his pelt and braided in his mane. He decorates himself now as if that may call them back, smearing gold along his chest, rubbing it across high cheekbones with a pollinated knee. Maybe this time they will come back. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
There is more activity amongst the rolling hills than there had been in awhile but it’s still quieter then he would like. Still, it was something. He was slowly breathing new life into the place which is more than he’s ever accomplished before. Although the vibrant red flowers had returned (and their source of amusement with them) he leaves off indulging today. Usually he likes to be stoned or shitfaced before noon but today there’s a rare desire to be clear and cool headed. So he decides to explore his lands more thoroughly and to inspect the invisible borders as he supposes he should.
He spots the grassy mammoth in the distance, also newly returned from wherever it had huddled itself from the cold, and gives a sharp whistle to him. It’s enough to turn the mammoth’s head. “And here I thought you died Steve!” He gives a sideways grin as he calls to him, watching the beast raise it’s trunk in salutations (or maybe it’s an unkind gesture, he can’t be sure) before it ambles off to do whatever mammoths do all day.
Bright crimson iris’s slide away from the ancient creature as a pastel blur catches the corner of his eye. If she thinks she’s being slick, she’s failing miserable. He watches the cotton candy filly dart into the wild ocean of flowers before him as if her life depends on it. He watches her progress before picking up his own pace to follow her, notices the direction she is darted from and the hue of her color is not lost on him. It makes him wonder if this is the daughter of the pierced mare who had once tried to collect him. Perhaps this is the daughter she had spoken about.
He wonders why she is here and although he should be annoyed that she’s come uninvited, he finds he doesn’t really care. Let them come to his tiny court and indulge in its pleasures. It might work in his favor. He keeps some distance between himself and the girl, merely observing for the moment. Curious to what exactly might have brought her here. Only one way to find out.
Obscene
@[Calavera] @[galadriel]