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06-14-2015, 01:03 AM
Gull Like a falling angel, a blur of cream shoots from the heavens, startling you backwards a few paces. Your coughing starts up again, and so it is with streaming eyes that you look up into the familiar face of the mare you’ve met here once before—what was her name again? Though you can’t remember, there is something therapeutic about her presence; in a land full of strangers and enemies, it is not often that you encounter someone more than once. Despite your limited acquaintance, your ears prick forward at the sight of her and you do your best to cough-nicker a low greeting. You’d take any friendship you could get right now. In turn, the mare whinnies to you, moving closer. “Hello Gull,” she calls out, and you rack your brains frantically at the sound of your name, trying to recall hers. “Do you remember me?” You nod between hoarse coughs, bobbing your head. “I’d never forget a face like that,” you manage, giving her a weak smile. “But remind me of your name again, beautiful? I must have been distracted last time,” you rasp, voice decidedly unsexy. This cough was a hindrance in more ways than one. “Are you okay?” she asks, seeming concerned. “You sound awful.” And suddenly you are glad for the heaving coughs, for they mask the hitch in your voice and the pain in your eyes. There’s more behind the short, choked laugh than whatever this is that’s ailing you, but you brush off her concern in the way you’re accustomed to doing. Shaking your head a little, you only mention the cough, assuring her hoarsely, “I’ve been up north lately; I’m sure it’s only a winter chill.” Honestly, the cold was the least of your problems. “How have you been?” you add, shifting the focus away from yourself. “You look…good. Much better than I sound,” you finish with a wink. Your forwardness surprises you, and you feel a stab of guilt and confusion for your behavior. Over the past few days, you’d sworn to yourself that you’d never let anything like what had happened with Muriel happen ever again, but this…it seems that old habits die hard. It seems a cycle you are destined to repeat, this chaotic wheel of grief and comfort-seeking in the wings of strange women. But caught in the warmth of her honey gaze, you find that you cannot help yourself. trouble just grew wings |
Please do not tag Gull except for in opening posts or spars!
