Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
| Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT |
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Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit
Bunnie |
06-12-2017, 09:54 AM
(This post was last modified: 06-12-2017, 09:55 AM by Rikyn.)
I'm all you ever wanted
Too many apples in, having made my way back towards the table after dancing myself sore, I have decided that, with most of the guests making their way home, and the songs winding down into the more somber and delicate of the ballads, it was time to go to bed, I’d blearily scoped the midnight horizon. I thought Erebos, Oizys, and Wessex were still patrolling, anyway, and figure that if nothing else, my blade brother and the eternally too serious now Haruspex would keep an eye on our guests. They both are too, you know, “diligent” and “responsible” to let people meander about our valley all night long. Me, well, there is a reason we have friends, I guess.
The moon rides high, and I’m laughing, at a joke shared between myself and I, though I forget the punch-line as I swagger my way towards the forest, which will lead me home for the night. Framed by the trees, Glacia is there, the moonlight spilling down onto her curves, and with booze-goggles I narrow in on her, as if she is a silver-bathed nymph, or a siren, her song lilting silent from her gaze as it finds me, drunkenly trying to make my way back to my cave to sleep off what has been, for me, anyway, a pretty amusing night.
Her dark hair looks soft and nice as I make my way towards her, the edges of her body and the white flecks which pierce her midnight coat blurring, spreading out like the fringes of stars on a black sky. When I’m close enough to behold her face, and that snowy blaze which christens it, those bright, ice blue eyes, she has me for the rest of the evening. With a stumble, I pause alongside her, lifting my nose to edge my lips along her neck, playfully tousling the thick strands of her mane, and exhaling roughly as I near her ears, and pull my face away to speak.
"Wassup, Glacia," I drunkenly ask, again lowering my lips to tease about her upper chest, before I suddenly remember our daughter; wide eyed, my gaze shoots up towards her eyes as I fretfully question, "wher'ess Gwyn?"
Я |
what the other boys all promised |
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