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Naturally, I assumed he’d retaliate. The privlage to command and punish had been purchased with blood.... Expectations shudder, my flesh and soul become steeled; while my heart is struggling against the tether of fabrication my mind chokes on the apprehension of lashing teeth and the unveiling of disapproval and anger. Two toned gems dare upward, sharpening as they scan his majestic surface. Their search is meticulously, but only in certain categories. Aggravation, fury, disappointment, hate…all had been commonplace in my life. But the snarl of displeasure for my mistrust and foolishness doesn’t appear. He doesn’t pick apart my startled antics; he merely moves beyond me, out of reach from further abuse.
My heart is a drum, squelching the roar of water; drowning the voice of our lead. The hue of apprehension is still warm on my face but his countenance doesn’t appear to mock me. There is no swift agitation, rather, his judgement comes like a soft drizzle. And in spite of my fear...the heart within me quiets, yearns and listens. I look up, but can’t bring myself to linger in his steadfast, unreadable gaze. A shuttering breath emerges, uncovering relief. Traces of guilt replace a fraction of dread. Remorsefully, (and bemused) I trail downward, aiming to brush over the honed tissue below his neckline. The tendons in my pasterns still tingle, they recall the solid, coiled feel of him beneath me.
The golden king is full of more grace than my dubious self deserves. Pressure loosens my lips, the beginnings of a smile creep into view. A faint light...but its first sign of warmth to emerge from that starved, quivering world of prolonged winter. His brief view into the tormented climate would be interrupted when my confidence becomes shattered by the weight of broadening questions. The glow abruptly vanishes on the next breath. Irises avert and shy aside (both physically and emotionally detaching) – giving him more than enough room to pass. To escape my conflicted, uncoordinated life.
From within their quiet, alien banter...a single word breaks through the transparent shell of befuddlement. Name. The natural curve in my neck coils tightly inward, a trio of color flashes against my haunches. Ears glide upward and wings fold shut. The eagle answers, giving his title...responding to the unseen puzzle. Irises lift, colliding into the unexpected...warmth...a gentleness he seemed to offer readily. Another hard lump becomes lodged in the back of my throat, constricting on the memory that follows. Noah…though our first impression had been brief...he’d given his name before the hunter…. My focus slips downward, supporting the notion that perhaps I'd continue to avoid...even so, these jowls work rebelliously, a squeak of a voice lifts. I strengthen the sound, attempting to pull my tone above a whisper, “N-Nora.”
OC: @Toulouse
My heart is a drum, squelching the roar of water; drowning the voice of our lead. The hue of apprehension is still warm on my face but his countenance doesn’t appear to mock me. There is no swift agitation, rather, his judgement comes like a soft drizzle. And in spite of my fear...the heart within me quiets, yearns and listens. I look up, but can’t bring myself to linger in his steadfast, unreadable gaze. A shuttering breath emerges, uncovering relief. Traces of guilt replace a fraction of dread. Remorsefully, (and bemused) I trail downward, aiming to brush over the honed tissue below his neckline. The tendons in my pasterns still tingle, they recall the solid, coiled feel of him beneath me.
The golden king is full of more grace than my dubious self deserves. Pressure loosens my lips, the beginnings of a smile creep into view. A faint light...but its first sign of warmth to emerge from that starved, quivering world of prolonged winter. His brief view into the tormented climate would be interrupted when my confidence becomes shattered by the weight of broadening questions. The glow abruptly vanishes on the next breath. Irises avert and shy aside (both physically and emotionally detaching) – giving him more than enough room to pass. To escape my conflicted, uncoordinated life.
From within their quiet, alien banter...a single word breaks through the transparent shell of befuddlement. Name. The natural curve in my neck coils tightly inward, a trio of color flashes against my haunches. Ears glide upward and wings fold shut. The eagle answers, giving his title...responding to the unseen puzzle. Irises lift, colliding into the unexpected...warmth...a gentleness he seemed to offer readily. Another hard lump becomes lodged in the back of my throat, constricting on the memory that follows. Noah…though our first impression had been brief...he’d given his name before the hunter…. My focus slips downward, supporting the notion that perhaps I'd continue to avoid...even so, these jowls work rebelliously, a squeak of a voice lifts. I strengthen the sound, attempting to pull my tone above a whisper, “N-Nora.”
OC: @Toulouse
