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08-16-2015, 10:13 PM
He watches her thick, white lashes graze the black markings around her eyes as her gaze leave his and search the ground. For what? He was standing before her, was he not what she sought when she called for him? The tension rolls off her in waves, destroying the calm and comfort that they had once found in each other’s presence. He finds himself holding deep breaths, anticipating some attack or cataclysm. His body is becoming rigid once more, unable to combat the anxiety that radiates from her any longer.
Instinctively he reaches out to her again, wishing to soothe his golden lady’s jitters. He cannot catch her gaze just yet, so he takes a half step towards her, his warm muzzle brushing the silken skin on the crest of her neck. He closes the physical distance between them, but he can still feel that she’s so far removed from him mentally.
The soldier in him begins to anger- unable to fight or defend against this unseen foe that Rexanna cannot yet put a voice to. He takes a strong, heavy breath against her, seeking to mollify himself with the warmth and smell of her hide. It works marginally, though he finds himself pulling away and clenching his jaw as she speaks. “Have not been honest with me?” His deep voice reverberates quietly, but somewhat ominously.
He has pulled further away from her now, his height augmented by the tension his misgivings bring. He quiets his thoughts, unwilling- or unable- to jump to painful conclusions just yet. He interrupts her apologies, his low voice carefully quiet and flat, “Rexanna, tell me what it is you are apologizing for.” Gone is the warmth from his face and good humor from his eyes. Gone is the smile that usually crosses his lips around her. He waits.
Instinctively he reaches out to her again, wishing to soothe his golden lady’s jitters. He cannot catch her gaze just yet, so he takes a half step towards her, his warm muzzle brushing the silken skin on the crest of her neck. He closes the physical distance between them, but he can still feel that she’s so far removed from him mentally.
The soldier in him begins to anger- unable to fight or defend against this unseen foe that Rexanna cannot yet put a voice to. He takes a strong, heavy breath against her, seeking to mollify himself with the warmth and smell of her hide. It works marginally, though he finds himself pulling away and clenching his jaw as she speaks. “Have not been honest with me?” His deep voice reverberates quietly, but somewhat ominously.
He has pulled further away from her now, his height augmented by the tension his misgivings bring. He quiets his thoughts, unwilling- or unable- to jump to painful conclusions just yet. He interrupts her apologies, his low voice carefully quiet and flat, “Rexanna, tell me what it is you are apologizing for.” Gone is the warmth from his face and good humor from his eyes. Gone is the smile that usually crosses his lips around her. He waits.
TEMBOVU
Beware the weight of a vengeful soul.
@Rexanna
Please tag Tembovu.
