04-29-2016, 07:57 PM
BROTHER, LET ME BE YOUR FORTRESS, WHEN THE NIGHT WINDS ARE DRIVING ON.
I CAN BE THE ONE TO LIGHT YOUR WAY; I WILL BRING YOU HOME.
Her lips press against his, and he is reminded of how blessed he is. Though his children are still fragile fragments of their future selves, he savors their youth and the ardent adoration of his lover with each passing, fleeting moment. Her kisses are gentle but pressing and this moment of solitude shared between them was a rare treasure that sent a shiver along the course of his spine - though the cold no longer phases him (as his blood, some days, is colder than ice itself), she still manages to unhinge him in the most primal, most unnerving way.
He knew their quietly shared time together would soon come to an end - their son, Neverwas, was traipsing around (though the boy rarely traipsed - wise beyond his years; an old soul, that one) nearby and would soon return to their sides to finish their outing and return to the safe, albeit freezing embrace of the icy tundra. In an effort to soothe his lover's aching bones and stiff muscles, he'd beckoned her out today - a venture outside of the kingdom, as he left it - and Argo - within the trusted care of Brynmor. He, too, enjoyed the bright sunshine and warm caress of the breeze. Though it was still undoubtedly cold, it held no flame to the frostbitten burn the Tundra sometimes carried.
Alas, their sweet moment is cut short, too soon - as he worried it would be - but his momentary lapse into selfishness falters upon hearing his son's pleading, heartbroken words. He stammers to them, mostly to Isle - who not only has his heart, but his entire being, and if any plea is to be made, it is to be made to her. The King is not without weakness. He studies the boy and his dark, silvery obsidian coat, and the bright tears that threaten to fall from his lashes as he speaks urgently yet hesitantly. Offspring knows before Isle ever speaks - when she looks to him, he understands her, and she understands him in turn. She kisses him, sealing their fate. Another would join their family.
His thick muscles ripple with each stalking movement; his massive shape moving with the very same rhythm of his slender, feminine mate, who fits so flawlessly at his side. He follows with her as they trail after their son - though Neverwas did and likely always would call him Offspring, he would never see him as any less than his own son - and in time, they find themselves in an all-too-familiar place. A faint ache lingers in his chest. Though it had been many decades, he himself could remember being a young child, crumpled up in fear, anxiety and longing - and he loathed to see any feel that very pain. He stands back, knowing that his lumbering form and bright crimson eyes can be foreboding, and he allows his beloved Isle to make the first movement.
She caresses the sleeping child so gently, and he is reminded again of how much his heart has truly grown with her in his life, and how deeply he has come to love her in her entirety. Offspring's eyes soften as the side of the snoozing filly and the loving caresses given by a mare with a heart too wholesome and too giving for this world. He will never tire of this, and as she had said to their sweet Nevi (he stands close to him now, his nose pressed to the small of his son's back, nudging his tresses in a quiet acknowledgement - You did the right thing, he says without words), they would never leave anyone behind.
He knew their quietly shared time together would soon come to an end - their son, Neverwas, was traipsing around (though the boy rarely traipsed - wise beyond his years; an old soul, that one) nearby and would soon return to their sides to finish their outing and return to the safe, albeit freezing embrace of the icy tundra. In an effort to soothe his lover's aching bones and stiff muscles, he'd beckoned her out today - a venture outside of the kingdom, as he left it - and Argo - within the trusted care of Brynmor. He, too, enjoyed the bright sunshine and warm caress of the breeze. Though it was still undoubtedly cold, it held no flame to the frostbitten burn the Tundra sometimes carried.
Alas, their sweet moment is cut short, too soon - as he worried it would be - but his momentary lapse into selfishness falters upon hearing his son's pleading, heartbroken words. He stammers to them, mostly to Isle - who not only has his heart, but his entire being, and if any plea is to be made, it is to be made to her. The King is not without weakness. He studies the boy and his dark, silvery obsidian coat, and the bright tears that threaten to fall from his lashes as he speaks urgently yet hesitantly. Offspring knows before Isle ever speaks - when she looks to him, he understands her, and she understands him in turn. She kisses him, sealing their fate. Another would join their family.
His thick muscles ripple with each stalking movement; his massive shape moving with the very same rhythm of his slender, feminine mate, who fits so flawlessly at his side. He follows with her as they trail after their son - though Neverwas did and likely always would call him Offspring, he would never see him as any less than his own son - and in time, they find themselves in an all-too-familiar place. A faint ache lingers in his chest. Though it had been many decades, he himself could remember being a young child, crumpled up in fear, anxiety and longing - and he loathed to see any feel that very pain. He stands back, knowing that his lumbering form and bright crimson eyes can be foreboding, and he allows his beloved Isle to make the first movement.
She caresses the sleeping child so gently, and he is reminded again of how much his heart has truly grown with her in his life, and how deeply he has come to love her in her entirety. Offspring's eyes soften as the side of the snoozing filly and the loving caresses given by a mare with a heart too wholesome and too giving for this world. He will never tire of this, and as she had said to their sweet Nevi (he stands close to him now, his nose pressed to the small of his son's back, nudging his tresses in a quiet acknowledgement - You did the right thing, he says without words), they would never leave anyone behind.
OFFSPRING
the ice king of the tundra