the Rift


[PRIVATE] the sublunary versus the heliotrope

Carnesîr Posts: 60
Hidden Account atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 3 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
wanda
#5
carnesîr


Through the deluge that presses frigid fingers into slate flesh, turning rivulets down his spine and constellations upon sable lashes, he sees the fire-girl retreat from his oncoming physique. The encompassing bliss and jubilance is replaced by a twinge of melancholy, striking as the lightning that dances within ashen clouds of soot far above the Earth, and dual creatures, below. For in response to her pulchritude, he is but pabulum and disfigured, a cygnet in comparison to it's matured, glorious growth.

His falter but lasts a moment, for the fiery girl brings forth her maw, creamy sinew and flaming oceans that captivate the elven child with the desire that grows as candlelight within, and once more elation burns within his breast, down into the marrow of his bones, the long, spindly ligaments that move with the beat of his heart and the patter of the raindrops upon the mud.
As he pauses his dance among the downpour, leonine tail twisting and curling and swishing as if he still drifts with the leaves, the breathless smile upon his maw is shining with the ravishment that blooms as flowers along his entire frame, sides heaving with exertion, chilled sweat mixing with the rain upon clammy skin. His breath whooshes forth from widened nostrils, creating milky clouds that rise high into the atmosphere, though Carnesîr feels anything but cold at this very moment. Lá, he is aflame, shimmering as the droplets that catch the brilliance of the fire girl and reflect her warmth, umber pearls twinkling with delight,s indulgence in the sight of the mistress before him as he awaits her response.

He does not miss the way the way she brings flame-kissed wings flush against her sides, almost as if she wishes to hide herself from him, and he cannot fathom the reasoning as to why. The girl is sumptuous, dazzling as the stars and bright as the Sun, and he feels his gangly ligaments move forth as he attempts to close the short distance between them, dome lowered ever so slightly in a friendly fashion, warm orbs fastening upon her face. Don't hide away. His mind whispers: I'm nothing to be afraid of.
He does not come too close, for he doesn't want to crowd the fire child, and instead extends his maw this time, a offering, if she shall take it, a greeting that promises the gentlest brush of skin against skin, although he will understand if she does not take it. He is a stranger, after all, nothing more. (Although, does he not feel a craving grow within his mortal flesh, a want for her to be more then a pretty face?)

And then she speaks, a soft, sensual murmur of admittance that leaves his spine tingling and goosebumps to rise upon his frame. The warmth from his core spreads across his entire frame as she flickers her gaze once more to him, she has never danced before and the way in which she says these words (as if he would snap and snarl and turn into a hungry wolf at her lack of knowledge) scalds him. He wishes to comfort her, to silence her uncertainties, and yet he does not know how.
Her last line of speech causes his earthen gaze to drift to her wings, then to the rain that falls still around the two of them, blankets them as the warm body of a mother against her still young child, and once more to her. A longing stirs within him, a yearning of knowledge, a passion that spreads through his pearls, for she is the source of this influx of emotions. Mirth mixes with desire, and as the rivers that flow through the meadows, his voice low and soft and sweet.
"Show me, hiril vuin."



Hiril vuin : Beloved Lady
Credits

The card games and ease with the bitter salt of blood
I was in but I want out
My mother's love is choking me



Messages In This Thread
RE: the sublunary versus the heliotrope - by Carnesîr - 12-02-2013, 04:02 AM

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