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06-25-2017, 02:04 AM
Even with his accursed body, his ugly, rotten form, his stench, everything, Cirrus was enchanted by those eyes. Those eyes, which seemed so vibrant, so hopeful, so discerning and disarming. Those eyes, which seemed to peer right at her very soul - her own broken, ruined soul - contained so much more than this ruined body and rotten stench.
Didn't they?
They stood in the rain, almost nose to nose, the Cerndyr slipping away to the side, unable to bear the intensity that rose up between them. Cirrus herself couldn't place it, couldn't explain it, and yet the longer she stared, the longer she knew that she had to keep staring, keep looking, as if somewhere deep within his eyes she might find the answer, the solution, the truth of the matter.
He leaned closer to her, his whiskers twitching amongst her own, and she became very aware of his presence. His scent, mostly hidden now as her healing magic washed away what it could, left behind a figure who, though still decrepit in outwardly appearance, otherwise was very tall (compared to her), very sturdy, and very masculine.
His voice confirmed this even further, and the weathermare almost blushed under the weight of his compliment, silly as it felt.
Then he kept talking.
The innuendo was not lost on her. It was brash and bold (everything she herself was), it was uncouth and straight to the point.
The spell was broken, as anger flared within the mare. The rain seemed to harden, flakes of hail mingling with the droplets. The cerndyr, with a note of alarm, scurried away to shelter beneath nearby trees, while the mare shot daggers at the stallion.
"You did not just hit on me," she said, her tones deadly, serious, threatening. "You did not just turn my magic into some sick pick up line!" she was shouting, though she didn't really know why she was angry.
Disgust curled her lips as she regarded him, ears pinned down amidst dark tendrils of mane, nose pinched in distaste.
"Prick," she summed up succinctly, before turning abruptly away from him, spreading her wings as if to shake away the wet that had gathered in the feathers. The motion seemed to call an end to the onslaught of rough weather, as she walked determinedly away.
Didn't they?
They stood in the rain, almost nose to nose, the Cerndyr slipping away to the side, unable to bear the intensity that rose up between them. Cirrus herself couldn't place it, couldn't explain it, and yet the longer she stared, the longer she knew that she had to keep staring, keep looking, as if somewhere deep within his eyes she might find the answer, the solution, the truth of the matter.
He leaned closer to her, his whiskers twitching amongst her own, and she became very aware of his presence. His scent, mostly hidden now as her healing magic washed away what it could, left behind a figure who, though still decrepit in outwardly appearance, otherwise was very tall (compared to her), very sturdy, and very masculine.
His voice confirmed this even further, and the weathermare almost blushed under the weight of his compliment, silly as it felt.
Then he kept talking.
The innuendo was not lost on her. It was brash and bold (everything she herself was), it was uncouth and straight to the point.
The spell was broken, as anger flared within the mare. The rain seemed to harden, flakes of hail mingling with the droplets. The cerndyr, with a note of alarm, scurried away to shelter beneath nearby trees, while the mare shot daggers at the stallion.
"You did not just hit on me," she said, her tones deadly, serious, threatening. "You did not just turn my magic into some sick pick up line!" she was shouting, though she didn't really know why she was angry.
Disgust curled her lips as she regarded him, ears pinned down amidst dark tendrils of mane, nose pinched in distaste.
"Prick," she summed up succinctly, before turning abruptly away from him, spreading her wings as if to shake away the wet that had gathered in the feathers. The motion seemed to call an end to the onslaught of rough weather, as she walked determinedly away.
with love, Cirrus
lunarblues & larfsalot @ deviantart
please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts
I write what I feel at the time
and hope everyone else does the same c:
