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09-06-2015, 11:56 PM
@Nasreen :D this'll get better, i just suck at opening posts
Cαλεβ ανδ Ηενριεττα
Was it wrong to sulk? To want, dream, hope, crave, cry? In truth, Caleb only did about one of the things on that list, but it felt as if he would be able to do all of them if he allowed himself, lowered his cold wall to reveal his inner self. He couldn't, wouldn't, but there were things he needed to talk about to someone, anyone. He couldn't keep to himself a day longer. The beast needed a friend about now.
The darkly painted warrior wades into the pond, lukewarm water engulfing more of him with every step he takes towards deeper water. He feels the dirt and caked blood and sweat and more wash off of his body. Eventually, he is deep enough that water hesitantly pools across his back, the only thing above the surface was his chiseled head, muscled neck, withers, and croup, everything else well submerged.
He lets out a loud snort as he hears water splashing behind him. No doubt, it is Henrietta. She treads water, moving towards her master with a diligent speed. Once she reaches him, she playfully swims circles around him, her silver eyes glinting with pup-like mischief. Caleb, however, is in no mood for games. He slowly turns to the lake shore and moves towards it, limbs slicing through the water like a knife through butter. Once his is completely on dry land, his steel eyes shut and body drops to the dry dirt that lines the shore. He rolls in the dirt, re-caking himself with it. It was habit to roll after getting wet, second nature to the two year old. When his is standing again, his body shakes, excess dirt flying back to the ground. A satisfied grunt later, his eyes scan the area wondering who will bring him company today.
and often times we call a
man cold when he is only sad.
thoughts
"speech."
"speech."
▷ baylee ◁
