[P] Howling ghosts, they reappear - Printable Version +- HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun (http://helovia.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: Archives (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +--- Thread: [P] Howling ghosts, they reappear (/showthread.php?tid=26043) |
Howling ghosts, they reappear - Yael - 12-30-2016 yael The gold’s reaction should be familiar, if one has ever watched a scared pup cower from a perceived threat, only to realize that the danger was entirely non-existent, and return after substantial sniffing around and wary observation. Wide eyes narrow as she watches the winged behemoth take notice of a trinket on the ground before him - she does not look away to see her own - not yet, but studies the giant as he moves. The easy grin, his relaxed body language, and the warm cheer from the tree cast him all in a favorable light. trust your heart if the seas catch fire live by love, though the stars walk backwards @Graasvoel RE: Howling ghosts, they reappear - Graasvoel - 01-16-2017 graasvoel
His red-hot and sharp gaze does not miss the lingering uneasiness in the gold mare—nor does he miss the failed attempt at reassuring the Moon Doctor Lyanna. His black-marked brows knit slightly—though he can’t truly manage outright frustration beneath the Giving Tree’s warm, calming glow. Though the glow is starting to abate, seeming to fade with the dispersement of Helovians as the crowd began to thin. A low, rough chuckle just managed to push out his throat as she apologies and explains (vaguely) her strangely standoffish behavior. (Rest assured that the acrobatic and alluringly exotic lilt of her tongue does not go unnoticed.) “I assure you, lovely Yael, that I am very much flesh and blood,” and, as if to prove that point, he arched and shook his neck, heavy muscles proudly leaping out from beneath his swarthy, tawny skin. He then grinned roguishly and winked at the gold woman, inviting her to laugh at his ridiculous display of faux-manliness. He then relaxes his thick, testosterone-grown crest, the thick and now hopelessly knotted strands of his multi-colored mane settling as a while mess atop it. His gaze dances among the black specks of her plumage, before studying the soft ivory of her silken mane, and lastly landing on the warm brown of her eyes. “Are you running from this ghost?” The question was offhand, easily spoken in his slightly accented, rough voice. And the question—too serious for it to be normally asked by the vulture— was asked out of curiosity. What ghost could elicit such a response in the golden woman? the vulture feeds while it can until there's no trace left of man @Yael sorry for the delay! RE: Howling ghosts, they reappear - Yael - 01-16-2017 yael She chuckles uneasily, mostly because it feels so wrong to find his obvious antics amusing. It is not the laughter itself that seems improper (has she not laughed with other women? It brought no sense of shame), but the company. Because as much as she knows she shouldn’t want it, she does. Gaal’s attention is flattering. It signals a change from the bedraggled and wrecked, perpetually cold slip of a thing she was when Lyanna found her. Perhaps there was more meat on her bones, a greater sheen to her coat? A tad more confidence in where she was going? It never once crosses her mind that she might simply be easy prey for a smooth-talking stallion - hopefully her spidey senses are better than that. trust your heart if the seas catch fire live by love, though the stars walk backwards @Graasvoel RE: Howling ghosts, they reappear - Graasvoel - 02-26-2017 graasvoel
The gargantuan stallion greeted her affirmation of his ‘flesh and blood’ and roaming gaze with an easy, lopsided, and roguish grin—gladly meeting the gaze she tentatively (or uncertainly) rested on his stark white face. However, the heat from his gaze and his grin faded slightly as she shut down his next question (about her ghost) with a simple and vague non-answer. His heavy skull cocked slightly, beard swaying in the crisp air, “’Mere acquaintances?” his rough voice rumbled around the words that parroted her phrase, “Perhaps we could be more than that.” Again, rather swiftly, a heat flashed through his sharp, red and yellow gaze, before it cooled. He didn’t want to scare the gilded woman off, her accent is too alluring and her golden skin appeared too soft. So he let the ghost pass out of the conversation, moving onto her next question. “Indeed, I am Korofi. From the plateaus of Dorobo, far, far from here,” he gestures vaguely in a direction (entirely unknowing if it was the correct way or not), glad that the woman is continuing to humor him with conversation. Slowly, he shifted closer to her as the Tree’s warmth faded slightly as the evening wore on. “And you? That accent, alluring as it is, is not from Helovia,” again, he grinned lopsidedly at her, gaze lingering on her gold lips as he complimented her accent, before returning to her warm mahogany eyes. the vulture feeds while it can until there's no trace left of man @Yael RE: Howling ghosts, they reappear - Yael - 02-28-2017 yael Dear G-d, he is persistent! A dark thought flashes in the link between her brain and eyes - ever so brief, just the faintest spark of annoyance and ire in her rich, expressive gaze- but it is quickly buried by the little mare’s astounding willpower. Mind over matter. Control. Paint the prettiest picture and hope that is enough. Use your diplomacy, she thinks. For vague, non-answers were once her speciality. trust your heart if the seas catch fire live by love, though the stars walk backwards @Graasvoel RE: Howling ghosts, they reappear - Graasvoel - 03-26-2017 graasvoel
Though her answer to his gentle (and, indeed, persistent) teasing of them being more than ‘mere acquaintances’ is not met with abounding agreement; her answer is also not an absolute denial. Open the door a mere crack, and Gaal will gladly attempt to figure a way for his great bulk to pass through. And then speaks of places he has no idea of—words he had not even heard of from the worldly travelers and traders in Uumalah. So his head cocks slightly in surprise, lips pressing and puckering slightly in surprised thought as he tried to think of any place that sounded similar to the ” Tzion” or ”B’kanna” she spoke of. But none came to mind. So he simple shook his head, “I have not heard of such places—though I would not call you ‘simple,’ Yael.” Again, a flirtatious grin crossed his muzzle in the fading glow of the evening. But then her next question (” Are you xere out of necessity or xappenstance?”) evoked an entirely different response and demeanor from the giant stallion. He stiffened, uncharacteristically ignoring the gentle graze of her wing-tips against his red-hot eyes heating with a different emotion from what had heated them before. It was anger. Or shame. Or something in-between. He swung his skull away from the golden lady, looking instead towards the tree as a deep, cold breath swelled his sides. And, then, with a deliberate effort, he slowly sank his great bulk into the snow, a wing lifting to invite the delicate, small Yael to lay beside him in the snow, should she wish, “It grows late, the time for talking has passed. You are welcome here, with me now,” he paused, now-calm-gaze seeking her warm browns, “Or I will find you again.” His simple avowal was honest on his gruff voice. the vulture feeds while it can until there's no trace left of man @Yael Maybe we can wrap this one up here and continue with their other thread? |