@Coelacanth <3 set at coaltree rise -- backdated to when aditya was on the island
he sat a short distance away, his golden eyes following their every move. not elk, not deer, but. . .he had forgotten the name his friend had given them. he'd seen them only once before, racing across a mountain valley, their tails streaming behind them like many banners. now they grazed placidly, looking for greenery among the winter foliage, their dark eyes and noses questing constantly.
a smile stretched his maw as he watched them, feeling the same sort of curiosity he'd had upon looking at the sea lions. except these were infinitely more majestic, long-legged and many-colored, ready to flee at a moment's notice. had he been hungry at all, he would have tried his hand at taking one of the smaller, weaker ones down; as it was, he was content to sit and stare.
and as it was, they were a peaceful sight. they even had some young, wobbling close to their mothers, and a few more females with distended stomachs, ready to pop as catori soon would. they ate and ate, occasionally lifting their heads to peer at a noise or a sudden movement. beyond them, the sea stretched for many miles, an endless, rolling blanket of gray-green.
he wondered if coelacanth would know what these creatures were called, and gave a small, curious call to the inky-furred woman. a few of the animals, startled, took off for a short distance, before wheeling back around and resuming their feast, apparently satisfied the threat was not immediate.
she appeared quickly, blue eyes glimmering, and gave him two names, both of them clearly not the answer he was looking for. not understanding, he nevertheless gave her a gleaming smile, closing his eyes to accept her touch before pressing his muzzle in a fairly innocuous nudge to her shoulder in greeting. his heart raced, and something within him stirred at the feel, the scent of her. he fought it back as best he could.
seelie gestured for him to follow, and he hung back a moment, uncertain. surely the creatures would flee, seeing them come? or--worse--become violent? he eyed their large, heavy hooves with more than a little misgiving.
her assurance comforted him, if only slightly, and he finally decided to follow, taking nimble, trotting steps after her. he saw one or two of the animals lift their noses slightly, their tails flicking with alarm, and resisted the urge to shy away; coelacanth would know them best, and she wouldn't lead him into danger. . .right?
he watched with a mixture of fascination and astonishment as seelie danced with one of the female creatures, her inky pelt in stark contrast against its fiery hues. the game ended almost as quickly as it began, and coelacanth came toward him, whispering his name and giving him a touch that made him tremble slightly.
he followed her to the peculiarly blackened tree, eyeing the animals warily as he paced. he sat beside her, gazing contentedly at her as she took in the scent of the new spring flowers, with no shame. he stared, and if she noticed. . .well, he'd have to answer for it. or perhaps not. coelacanth was beautiful; she was probably used to gaping stares.
adi drew in a long breath, savoring the aroma of the isle: the flora, the musk of the horses, the salt air. he smiled at her, nodding toward the trunk, his voice a quiet murmur as he spoke.
"i've seen trees like this before," he remarked. "i once lived among them, with friends. they called them coaltrees." charred by fire, no doubt. adi had also seen fire, and knew of its devastation. he hoped the isle wasn't susceptible to blazes; he hated to think seelie and her pack lived on a death trap.
every molecule, every cell in his body yearned to touch her, to press his body against hers until their pelts mingled into a muddled blend of tawny and ebony, cream and blue. to inhale her sweet scent, to rest his head against hers with a contented sigh. aditya was positively vibrating as she spoke, and those shivers turned into all-out trembles as she laid her paw first on his shoulder, then his cheek.
"coaltree," he repeated, nodding at her as she spoke. she had gotten it right--well, mostly right, but he wasn't one to fault hiccups in pronunciation. her laugh was adorable, bright and charming, and he found himself chuckling along with her, a deep, rich sound that purred from his throat.
giff name? adi cocked his head, smiling down at her. "name the tree, you mean?" he asked, glancing toward the charred specimen. "you want to name it coaltree?" he was honored that she'd chosen his name to give a place on the isle. it wasn't his name, he supposed, and she knew that--but he was honored nonetheless.
he padded over to the tree, placing a forepaw on it for a long moment before drawing back and examining the soot against his pad. grinning, he gently pressed the pad--if she would permit--against her shoulder. "doesn't show up at all on you, chikni raat," he teased, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"yes, of course," he responded, smiling. "of course you can name it coaltree." it was a perfect moniker for the tree, so unique, its blackened trunk in stark contrast to the verdant, lush paradise that was the isle. yet there was beauty in it, too--the buds bursting forth from the ashes a poignant symbol of rebirth.
adi let out a shockingly high-pitched giggle as she nibbled at his foreleg, and pulled away, pelt bristling slightly, but with mirth, not unease. "that tickles," he laughed, bringing that same forepaw up to bat her playfully across the tufted tops of her ears. "silly girl."
he backed down the rise, letting out a small woof and dancing just out of her reach. out of the corner of his eye, he kept careful watch of where the grazing creatures were, and bowed low, tail wagging. "i've been thinking of your dance at the hunter's moon," adi said, bouncing a little on his paws in a small jig of his own. "do you want to dance with me, now?"
with a nod, she acquiesced, and he twisted into the most graceful shape his burly body could muster, stretching out long before her--the artist, warming up--before rising up once more. breaking into the slowest of trots, he circled her several times, hips swaying with the movement, tail aloft and streaming in the sea breeze.
truly, he was not a competent dancer--but the song he heard in his heart guided his paws, and so he danced, and danced for her. danced with her, if she would allow.
all good dancers told a story, and he told his own, breaking into a lope and circling the tree, his tongue lolling with joy. he climbed the slope then, with graceful precision, tumbled down it, mimicking his descent into the sea. he rolled a few times and slowly, slowly, dragged himself toward her, laying at her feet, feigning labored breathing.
and just as slowly brought himself up, muzzle just inches from her paws, then her legs, then her chest, and finally, her face. aditya stared at her a long moment, searching her eyes for emotions he desperately wanted to find. desire crackled like lightning through his body as he reached out his nose as if to kiss her. . .
then brought it downwards to rest near his left forepaw, in an elegant bow.
"mere dost."
like a cool breeze, her words, uttered in his own tongue, fluttered toward him, punctuated by the touch of her nose to his. a ripple of something nameless but shocking in its intensity passed through him, and he swallowed, but held his ground.
she'd remembered. he'd called for his friend upon washing up at undersea. nando, lost to the waves. she'd remembered, but he had often forgotten, and now the grief came upon him. . .though not without a silver lining of joy. she had remembered, and she had spoken his language.
"mere dost," adi agreed, sadness like broken shards of glass in his eyes, so at odds with the smile stretching his lips. "haan, teri dost hoon. lekin chikni raat. . ." he trailed off, looking away. he took a step back, toward the base of the tree. gaze raking the island, its pristine shores, its lush verdant paradise.
he didn't want to leave here.
"main tumse pyaar karti hoon," he said suddenly, bringing his eyes back to hers. lost in the cerulean, the peace of her face. "aur main tumhaari pyaare bananaa chaahta hoon. nahin sirf teri dost."
adi knew it crossed a line, he knew he was reaching, but threw all caution to the wind in that moment, striding forward and embracing her, pressing his muzzle into the sleek fur at the nape of her neck.
he took in her scent, the heady aroma of it engulfing him, dragging him under like the waves had once done. except, there, it had been panic. this was peace, deep, dark bliss. peace with guilt, clouding the almost-perfect nature of the scene--but peace, nonetheless.
shanti, it was called in his mother's tongue. and now, all of a sudden, chikni raat seemed a completely inadequate moniker for the woman he embraced now. she was shanti, the embodiment of serenity. and he'd stay for as long as she would allow.
her words reached his ears, and adi felt their legs intertwine, the sweet susurrus of her voice like a gentle breeze against his pelt. sad? nando?
and he laughed, a sudden, choked sound, ringing through the air. ever so reluctantly, he pulled away from her, staring down at her with eyes that burned like the summer sun, relentless, vibrant. yet in this moment, he felt hollow, his stomach sinking slowly as he gazed upon her.
shanti. mera pyaar.
"yes," adi lied, a forced smile curving the lines of his wide, expressive mouth. he blinked softly at her, a sigh slipping through his muzzle. "but it's okay. he's at peace. . .and so am i."
for now, at least.