A lover not a fighter on the frontline with a poem
trying to write yourself a rifle, maybe sharpen up a song
to fight the tanks and drones of you being alone
He is all politeness, all formality. He always has been. Being raised by the king of the Heaven's Gates herd probably had a lot of bearing on that particular development. His father, Kastiel, had his fun moments but the children he had helped to raise all had a certain amount of politeness to them. Miykael perhaps even more so than any of the others. In many ways, he is probably the most like Kastiel - ignoring Miykael's particular avoidance of battles. After all, look how well fighting served him in the past. He had been young then, unseasoned and stupid but it left its' mark on him regardless. It had turned him down a gentler path, one that allowed him to assist the warriors as well as the innocent. Healing had become his everything. It defined him more strongly than anything else could. He could fight, if needed, though there would be no shortage of anxiety. If Kaj or Kahlua asked it of him, he would; without (much) question.
Her deep gray eyes began to wander and the direction of her gaze certainly didn't escape his notice. What he is unable to determine at this point is her intent. Perhaps because she keeps her inner desires concealed or perhaps because he is simply unfamiliar with her. They have only just met, after all. Had it been Alysanne, he could have figured out the gist of her thoughts but that came from years of being by her side and traveling with her. This mare was a mystery to him. It was new, refreshing, and he couldn't deny that he liked that. December's gaze doesn't linger long, though, and soon her eyes focus on his once more. She nods in response to his statement and then the two are plunged into a comforting silence. He welcomes it, basking in her company and finding comfort in her presence.
His own vivid blue eyes glanced over her then, appreciating the strength and sturdiness that she clearly possessed. He didn't notice the lack of shine on her coat or the tangles in her hair; those meant little to him. Beneath her strength and muscle there is a feminine softness; curves that many a male could desire. Beauty can always be found, one simply has to know where to look. Miykael's life has been so overrun with darkness as of late that he has learned to seek the light in all things - the brightness and beauty are all there, hidden and waiting to be discovered. And he is determined to see them. Life is far too short and far too valuable to see only what is most obvious. Perhaps that is why he is drawn to December. Perhaps that is why - despite the matte coat in shades of gray, messy hair and chipped hooves - he sees beauty in her. Her poker face only adds to the appeal. It's almost a challenge for him to get inside and pull the walls down, to reveal the real gem that she truly is and show her exactly what he sees. It is not an easy task but when his eyes drift back to hers, he knows there is no other task he'd rather accept at this very moment. The wind whips through then, playing with his hair and tickling the feathers on his wings. December closes her eyes, embracing the wind, and had he not been watching as closely as he had - he might have missed the tiny smile that dared to show itself upon her face. But it disappeared almost as quickly and when her gaze returns to his, heavily laden with sorrow, he only wishes he could backpedal. It seemed clear that his statement hadn't been received exactly as he had intended. Her soft voice reaches his ears again and his heart sinks. "I'm sorry." he begins, his blue eyes mirroring her sadness. "I should have been more clear." he adds, allowing the smallest of smiles to curl his lips. "The past isn't meant to be entirely forgotten but it shouldn't be used to judge another." he clarifies, hopeful that it made sense. "It does matter, just... on a personal level." and here he smiles again, ever hopeful.
Moments later she turns, shifting her gaze to the caves before them and stares into their depths. A dull hint of an ache pulsed in his heart as he watched her. Every thought in his head practically screaming that he had messed this up, whatever this was. A gentle sigh escapes him, half expecting her to send him packing back to the Edge. When she speaks, however, her answer both surprises him and doesn't. How long had it been since he had really felt at home - comfortable and like he really belonged? Too long. He had pledged his loyalty to the Edge, that is true, but as much as he told himself it was home - it wasn't. He didn't belong. Alysanne was his only reason for staying, especially now that her memories had become unblocked. She needed him at night when the images plagued her most. She was his only connection, his only friend, though he hoped to change that today. He moves closer to her, slowly watching her with every step he took. He longed to place himself directly beside her, longed to caress her neck and shoulders with his soft lips. Miykael restrains himself, mostly. He moves himself closer to her, not touching but near enough to feel the warmth of her body radiating from her. "I understand. It can be difficult to find somewhere that you truly belong. The Edge is just a place to me, too. It's not... family." he admits, fighting the urge to touch her. Miykael shifts slightly, forcing his gaze to shift to the icy caves.
Miykael
At war with love |
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