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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.
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
until there's no trace left of man
@Yael Maybe we can wrap this one up here and continue with their other thread?
Please tag Graasvoel in all posts.
