He had been wondering if he was real, if he was back, or if it was just another dream, another twist of the fabric of the universe, but bit by bit her solid presence convinced him that it was real. The beat of his heart, the flush warmth of his skin, the heat in his blood, the cold night wind against his wet skin — every sensation was real, every tingle of his nerves where her body touched his, they were all real. Her heady scent was in his nose, in his mind, the soul behind her mysterious silver-flecked eyes brighter, more tangible, than the shadows had ever seemed to him. Even the relatively unknown smells and sounds of the Basin felt more genuine, the stars brighter and the air fuller. This was not a dream, not a trick, but it certainly felt like one. Her flank was warm against his, and the realization that it was real, neither fantasy nor dream, spread a warmth through his body. They were both here, huddled together, touching. He would not wake up from it. He would not have to wake and wonder what had happened if the dream had gone on a little longer.

Her voice bathed his neck in her warm breath, her words seeping slowly into his mind like water sinking into dry earth. "What if I'm not done..." His muzzle brushed her black neck, a smile all she got for an answer, for he was sure that all the words which came to mind would just ruin it all if he spoke them aloud. Again he breathed in her scent, shivering slightly in the cold, but somehow it only helped to make his nerves shake, amplifying the sensation of her warm body so close to his. Closing his eyes, he answered her in his mind like before; I won't mind if you're not done. She pressed closer, and Mauja shifted his weight slightly to not loose his footing. If he had not accepted what was going on, he would've marveled at what she did, but instead he just gently pressed back against her, basking in sharing heat with another living creature, as the wind outside chilled him.

Faelene draped her red-maned head across his back, leaving the air free to cool his chest, but warming his cold back. A shudder passed through him, and he turned his head to gently nuzzle her chest, the only part of her he could reach without moving or breaking his head. Warmth seeped into his shoulders from where her crown rested, her voice once more slipping into his mind, soothing and intoxicating all at once. I've wondered the same thing, he thought, a crooked smile appearing on his face. But you've convinced me I am. Expelling a last, hot breath on her chest he turned his head the other way, to peer at her with one silver-masked eye. "I don't know," he answered her in a low, husky voice. "I just know that I am real." Feeling his heart starting to tremble in his chest, Mauja gently pushed against her, leaning into her, trying to press as much of their bodies together as he could. His lips pulled into a small smile, his eyes searching for hers, something in them.

I can show you just how real I am.

Mauja Frosthjärta

He was growing colder, and hotter, all at once. Each touch, each point where their bodies met, sparked a small fire beneath his skin, even as its temperature dropped where the water had soaked him. The shivers coursing through him came as much from the cold as they came from the sensation of being touched, overloading already sensitive and tingling nerves. She felt it, there was no doubt about that, for she muttered an apology and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. While his quivers hadn't bothered him all that much, he had to admit that the feeling of her rubbing warmth into his skin was divine. "Don't be," he breathed warmly at her, meaning it. That he shivered was nothing to be sorry for. The slight discomfort of being cold was far, far outweighed by the sensation of having her warmth near — made it all the more alluring.

For a moment, the world was about to slide out from under his hooves, threatening to dump a load of icy cold water across his back and head, and dunk him in the truth of reality, that he was alone, but the space between them, so minute in size, closed again. Her warm flank merged with his, and the knot which had swiftly begun to form in his gut untangled itself, dissipated, disappeared. The fire under his skin was allowed to keep burning, the excitement in the pace of his heart, and somewhere deep within him, a yearning was growing stronger, more tangible. A quivering breath left his nostrils, and he could feel the soft rise and fall of her side as they stood so close together. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like if someone saw them here, huddled close together, but Irma sent him an amused, soothing thought. She did not want to disturb them, so she kept to the skies, where she had an excellent view of the approach to their hidden nook of the Basin. With a grin she told him, don't worry brother, for small the owl might be, but she had a wicked penchant for playing on others fears, and no lack of desire to develop her powers. The active touch of their minds was brief, no more than a second's sharing of concepts and intentions, and in the space of that time Faelene had found his eyes again. The northern lights reflected like flickering sheets of color in them, but it couldn't mask the luminosity of the silvered parts — he wasn't sure what he saw in them, only that they were open, enchanting, having that same mischievous air from before.. the kind that said, this might be mad but I'll match you step for step. It was not about her accepting what his eyes said he would do to her — it was about what they would do to each other.. together.

Mauja was not one to whisper nonsensical things, to persuade (not like she needed it anyway) with words; he found the silly little things others said to be distracting, when a single touch could speak so much louder. Blowing out a breath of hot air towards her muzzle, Mauja turned his head back the other way, bringing his nose to her chest again. Her wet fur was cold, and he rubbed his maw against it. Gently he rocked back half a step, his white side still pressed firmly against hers. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand this close to her without breaking his neck if he wanted to touch her, but for as long as he could, he would; his own skin tingling even where she wasn't touching him he gently began to work his way around from the front of her chest, up along the plane of her shoulder, trailing his soft muzzle against her skin, rubbing little circles along her nape. Up, along the line of her mane, his lips pulling back a little as he softly dragged his teeth against her neck. It felt as if the world beyond him grew still and quiet, no sounds except for their breathing, and his heart in his ears, and the occasional shuffle of his hooves against rock as he began to work his way back to her shoulder, relishing in the pleasure of a simple touch.

Mauja Frosthjärta

Life. It flowed around him, within him, from every miniscule detail, like the hitch in his heart, to the presence of her body. It sparked down his spine where she hovered between a touch and nothing, light as a breeze, but stirring a wildfire in her wake. He could feel the breath tremble in his chest as he slowly crumbled under the pressure of his desire. Though he could barely recall it, barely know anything beyond this moment and how it slowly dragged him under into pleasant, breathless darkness, he had not meant for this to happen — he had not meant to come this close.. to touch her.. to brush his muzzle across her soft skin and compact muscles. Yet here he was, his neck arching towards the sky as he dragged his nose against her body, growing hungry for more, to know every inch of her skin and every nuance of her breath. His own was growing heavier, the flush warmth under his skin hotter. Even though it was cold, he felt too warm, yet he pressed against her, wanting to share the fire with her. Part of him wanted to keep touching her until he spontaneously combusted and went up in flames.

A shiver coursed through him, her neck arching under his touch; his muzzle slid past her shoulder, and paused for a moment. As she touched him, charcoal against alabaster, the breath in his lungs escaped against her, and he thought to search for her eyes, only to find them closed. The smallest of smiles tugged at his lips, and he followed suit for a moment, just breathing in her scent, sticking it in his memory where he would never forget it, nor the particular flavor it had tonight. Swallowing, he rested against her for a moment, relishing the contact between their bodies. Then, he slowly rocked back again, the noise of hoof against rock lost upon his ears; eyes opened halfway, lazily almost, as his teeth dragged over the taut skin across her ribs, tracing the contour of her strong barrel to her flank as he slowly kept backing. The rise and fall of his sides grew quicker, lither, each breath shallow and fast as adrenaline and anticipation secured their hold on him. The point of her hip rested against his cheek, the smell over her overwhelming his senses. His unfocused gaze rested upon her back as he drew his head up, lightly touching her skin; he was shivering more now, partly because of nature's demand that wet skin be cold.. and partly because of her overpowering presence. Because of his own impassioned excitement.

To think, that it could happen, without hexing him first.

Dark lips peeled back as blunt teeth rubbed against her croup, rougher now, but not meaning to inflict pain; his tail flicked behind him, his breath and heartbeat picking up speed again. As his muzzle wandered down towards her dock, teeth massaging her flesh, he fell deeper and deeper into the wildfire, and embraced its heat.

Mauja Frosthjärta