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kianzo
Blue eyes brightened slightly the moment Rexanna’s golden form appeared in the shadowed murk of the large cave. The anxious lines of shame and worry smoothing slightly from his face—only to redouble the moment his dam came into full view in the mists’ muted sunlight. Ribs moved beneath her thin, ivory and cream skin. Her features were prominent—and not with the sculpted edge of beauty. No. This was different… gaunter, wearier.
Black-rimmed ears, which had been straining forward and searching, tilted backwards as he saw the tired slant of her normally kind and buoyant smile. Something tightened in his dark chest—like a knot. But not quite. More like a slab of bricks that slowly lowered over his heart and squeezed it with a constant pressure that grew and grew (and would continue to grow). It was worry, the unique worry a child has for their parent. Or son for his mother.
Any thought of his own qualms or sorrows (Kiada) calmed from a raging fire to simmering ashes in his skull. His own muzzle instinctively mirrored her own as she reached out—but his lingered, nostrils flaring as he took in his dam’s scent. A scent of safety; a childhood weakness he allowed himself for this short moment as he gently pressed the side of his muzzle against hers.
“Mayi,” was his deep, murmured greeting; meaning so much more in the earthen, primal language of his father than in the common tongue. “I’ve—” he paused, thinking of just what he wanted to say. His lined, anxious, sharp eyes studied her own gaunt and worried face for a moment, before pushing out hushed and hurried words, “I’ve missed you.”
And then he fell silent, unsure of how to say more.
Mayi - mother
Black-rimmed ears, which had been straining forward and searching, tilted backwards as he saw the tired slant of her normally kind and buoyant smile. Something tightened in his dark chest—like a knot. But not quite. More like a slab of bricks that slowly lowered over his heart and squeezed it with a constant pressure that grew and grew (and would continue to grow). It was worry, the unique worry a child has for their parent. Or son for his mother.
Any thought of his own qualms or sorrows (Kiada) calmed from a raging fire to simmering ashes in his skull. His own muzzle instinctively mirrored her own as she reached out—but his lingered, nostrils flaring as he took in his dam’s scent. A scent of safety; a childhood weakness he allowed himself for this short moment as he gently pressed the side of his muzzle against hers.
“Mayi,” was his deep, murmured greeting; meaning so much more in the earthen, primal language of his father than in the common tongue. “I’ve—” he paused, thinking of just what he wanted to say. His lined, anxious, sharp eyes studied her own gaunt and worried face for a moment, before pushing out hushed and hurried words, “I’ve missed you.”
And then he fell silent, unsure of how to say more.
Mayi - mother
@Rexanna
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