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+--- Thread: Sea Lion Shores our iron coffin (/showthread.php?tid=35668)
our iron coffin - Merrick - July 12, 2019
they had been here some time, he and the shadow, and no closer had they come to their vengeance. merrick awoke beneath warm briny sunshine: he cast his gaze about for her immediately.
and when she was not at once spotted, the boy blinked, yawned, and gathered himself up, to go and find @Astara, if not for any reason aside from pure curiosity.
and when she was not at once spotted, the boy blinked, yawned, and gathered himself up, to go and find @Astara, if not for any reason aside from pure curiosity.
RE: our iron coffin - Astara - July 12, 2019
ganondorf had disappeared without a trace; with him went the marbled stone. how? astara spent long hours searching, never finding.
she did not lose hope, but astara was not thrilled either. after spending the early morning scenting (having learned that the damp mist and dew often communicated scents better than the dry hours of midday) astara rested ruefully in the shade. the sound of treading paws caused her ears to flick, and she watched impassively as merrick broke from cover and made towards her.
she did not rise. within the melonii tint of her gaze came invitation for him to come closer, should he be willing.
RE: our iron coffin - Merrick - July 12, 2019
the buzz of cicadas at his back, merrick approached her with the rangy stride of a young lion, coming to pause before her.
he could not remember touching her deliberately; perhaps in the hot days that passed they had romped like children, but their purpose had always been driving, singular.
now merrick, aware she could turn him away with a flash of her fearless teeth, lowered his muzzle toward hers, intending to brush across the bridge of her nose with his lips.
he could not remember touching her deliberately; perhaps in the hot days that passed they had romped like children, but their purpose had always been driving, singular.
now merrick, aware she could turn him away with a flash of her fearless teeth, lowered his muzzle toward hers, intending to brush across the bridge of her nose with his lips.
RE: our iron coffin - Astara - July 12, 2019
their gaze met as he prowled close, a panther's slink to his gait. astara watched unblinking, canting her muzzle as he lowered his own. merrick's nose brushed along her jowls. a line of fur rose along her spine involuntarily, for astara was unused to the sensation.
they had sparred and hunted alongside each other, but never once had their passing touches been deliberate. rather, they appeared glance-offs -- for the first time, it seemed merrick sought her contact, and the gesture elicited a strange shiver down astara's spine. she watched him warily for what he might do, but as of yet did not feel the need to show her teeth.
RE: our iron coffin - Merrick - July 12, 2019
the shadow tensed, but merrick held their contact, for a knot of something inexplicable had begun to loosen in his chest.
however, the coywolf was nothing if not intuitive, and pulled away in the next moment. he would not press the shadow’s boundaries more than necessary.
presently his jaws split in a large yawn; he lay down alongside her and was quiet.
however, the coywolf was nothing if not intuitive, and pulled away in the next moment. he would not press the shadow’s boundaries more than necessary.
presently his jaws split in a large yawn; he lay down alongside her and was quiet.
RE: our iron coffin - Astara - July 12, 2019
astara held, a question lingering in her gaze: what is this?
merrick pulled away, and with his departure the tension withered into the air. astara was perplexed, for never before had she so keenly felt the space between them. with the sensation unfamiliar to the little shade, she was not sure what to make of it.
merrick let loose a yawn, prompting astara to instinctively yawn in response. sliding along the grass, astara stretched and looked up inquiringly with one paw hefted playfully in the shade's direction.
RE: our iron coffin - Merrick - July 12, 2019
the inquiry spread wildfire through her body, but merrick was not sure how to answer. his lips parted again, but it seemed the facilities of speech had at last evaded him.
alongside astara, he had not been placed in situations where speaking was necessary. now was one such, and merrick chose the moment to snap playfully at her outstretched paw, wanting to dispel the air of curiosity around them.
alongside astara, he had not been placed in situations where speaking was necessary. now was one such, and merrick chose the moment to snap playfully at her outstretched paw, wanting to dispel the air of curiosity around them.
RE: our iron coffin - Astara - July 12, 2019
whatever moment it was between them was soon dispelled. astara caught the shift in merrick's body as he lurched towards her, issuing a snap that could not be evaded. given she was on the ground, astara flew to her feet slowly -- with plenty of time for merrick's teeth to scrape along her skin.
it was all in play, but astara was a competitive creature and flew after the shade with a heavy growl. following with a snap at his tail the sprite slowed and lurched into a playbow, gaze unabashedly upon merrick in challenge.
RE: our iron coffin - Merrick - July 12, 2019
the sheen of her indigo eyes invited merrick, fired his physical self, rounded him toward the intrigue of a spar. but his conscious mind was not a a part of it, for all he could think was that he wished to tell her about indra, about tadec, their abandonment. how he had slain the coyote before nunataq, how she had run from him.
how he had fled his home, wept in darkened forests, felt the hand of madness move more heavily upon him. but though the words were there, the ability was not.
there, then, was only this.
with a low growl, he fell to his own bow, prowling closer before he feinted to the left and lunged inward, hoping to check the shadow’s next gambit.
how he had fled his home, wept in darkened forests, felt the hand of madness move more heavily upon him. but though the words were there, the ability was not.
there, then, was only this.
with a low growl, he fell to his own bow, prowling closer before he feinted to the left and lunged inward, hoping to check the shadow’s next gambit.
RE: our iron coffin - Astara - July 14, 2019
something stayed merrick’s hand. astara was aware of it, the way it flickered just past detection in his complex expression. dropping to a bow, she turned aside in time for merrick’s lunge to halt her dart to the side.
astara stilled, tail arced in the air and expression inquisitive. he was here, but the shadow could tell his heart was not in their play.
RE: our iron coffin - Merrick - July 14, 2019
”you’re going to leave me too.” the words slid rustily from his throat, cloaked in the croak of disuse; all at once he was frog-voiced and trembling before her, not at all the somber companion he had been these past weeks.
was it catharsis that led him to speak? healing? the growing blackness that yawned chasmic within him? who could know! who could know?
rage, loathing, hatred, terror; they spilled across merrick’s expression like toppled dominoes, one after the other, and he made no move to bridge the distance between them.
was it catharsis that led him to speak? healing? the growing blackness that yawned chasmic within him? who could know! who could know?
rage, loathing, hatred, terror; they spilled across merrick’s expression like toppled dominoes, one after the other, and he made no move to bridge the distance between them.
RE: our iron coffin - Astara - July 14, 2019
well, there it was. the dark thought that had merrick by the tail was finally given life in the form of a bladed accusation. astara’s ears pulled back, her expression pinched into a disgruntled scowl.
she had no words to console him with, no promises to give or break. instead the wraith tilted her skull and fell to her haunches. she blinked once, slowly — examining the male for more clues on where this insecure whim had come from.
RE: our iron coffin - Merrick - July 14, 2019
i don’t want to be alone, cried the little boy inside merrick. but he was silent now, closing himself to the questioning purple of the shadow’s gaze.
he did not wish to be more vulnerable than he had already become, but equally great was his sudden and desperate need to be touched, to be held. biting the inside of his jaw hard enough to draw blood, merrick cleared his throat and offered her a sharply cold little smile.
”it’s all right if you do.” he simply would expect that one day the girl would wake and abandon him as all others had before. after all, why not?
he did not wish to be more vulnerable than he had already become, but equally great was his sudden and desperate need to be touched, to be held. biting the inside of his jaw hard enough to draw blood, merrick cleared his throat and offered her a sharply cold little smile.
”it’s all right if you do.” he simply would expect that one day the girl would wake and abandon him as all others had before. after all, why not?
RE: our iron coffin - Astara - July 15, 2019
and what if she did leave? was merrick augmented to her somehow, would her parting damage him irreparable? was he made better by the company of others -- was his self so little that he could not stand a bit of independence? astara might have asked these pointed queries if she possessed the will to do so. as it stood, she didn't -- never once in her life had she seen the virtue in speaking and would not do so now.
words were useless. she knew this. actions, however...
the wraith rose in a panther slink, her gaze holding merrick's steadily as she advanced. she pressed her nose towards the shade assertively, unblinking. i am here now. is that not what matters?
RE: our iron coffin - Merrick - July 15, 2019
his gaze cooled as she rose, her gaze scathing as it had not been before, and merrick knew he must not overstep. it was the right of a child to believe they would not be abandoned by their mother, their father, their sister, but the little devil was none of these things. how then could he hold her to the same standards?
and so his ears fell back against his bright-streaked nape; he approached her contritely. her presence meant all the world to him, for now, for as long as she would grant it; he would strive to release her in his clutching heart.
and if she would have him, he reached out to her again as he had done before their playbows, seeking the line of her jaw with trembling lips as he sought to assure himself that astara was indeed here.
and so his ears fell back against his bright-streaked nape; he approached her contritely. her presence meant all the world to him, for now, for as long as she would grant it; he would strive to release her in his clutching heart.
and if she would have him, he reached out to her again as he had done before their playbows, seeking the line of her jaw with trembling lips as he sought to assure himself that astara was indeed here.
RE: our iron coffin - Astara - July 15, 2019
she stood statuesque as merrick met her, feeling a current under her skin as they touched. her fur was slow to rise, but it did in little wrinkles. even her tail had stilled as merrick's nose drew past her -- eliciting an exciting chill that climbed its way up her spine.
he was trembling. astara fought from trembling too -- this was not like their hunts, or their games. she watched him carefully, somehow wanting more despite not knowing what his intentions were. the end of her tail curled up ever so slightly in a stiff arc, but she did not push him away as she leaned in silently, pushing into and chasing whatever sensation it was he had stirred within her breast.
RE: our iron coffin - Merrick - July 16, 2019
there was not a name for the sensation that feathered at the base of his spine, spreading into his limbs, and yes — lower still.
half-formed instinct spoke; did he have intentions? his body certainly craved something unknowing, wordless; it drove him closer, until his muzzle was buried in her ruff and he could smell the water and earth and ferocity that comprised his devious little sprite.
she was his; he must not let her go. oh! but she belonged to herself, not to him. how then could he possess her silent mind and yielding body, to communicate that she was indeed his own? merrick was not sure; he let his lips rove where they would, trembling unabated.
half-formed instinct spoke; did he have intentions? his body certainly craved something unknowing, wordless; it drove him closer, until his muzzle was buried in her ruff and he could smell the water and earth and ferocity that comprised his devious little sprite.
she was his; he must not let her go. oh! but she belonged to herself, not to him. how then could he possess her silent mind and yielding body, to communicate that she was indeed his own? merrick was not sure; he let his lips rove where they would, trembling unabated.
RE: our iron coffin - Astara - July 19, 2019
he touched her then, bringing to life a roaring current beneath her skin. the fur beneath his roving lips rippled, standing on end. she watched from the corner of her indigo eyes, her neck stiff with unspeakable sensation.
it was instinct alone, not experience, that compelled astara then. with a curl of her spine she drew her muzzle along the length of merrick’s neck, resting her head possessively across the fiery swath of his shoulders. deeply, the sprite breathed — trembling still, but no longer wary.
RE: our iron coffin - Merrick - July 19, 2019
they were embraced in something tentative and tender, yet with its own heat leaping beneath. he marvelled at it, at the grace of it, at the way he was at once both soothed and intrigued. there was a sense of belonging within their bonding now, and he found catharsis in this. there was more that he wished, so much more, but for now, merrick stood with head bowed against astara, content in a way he had never been before to merely exist within the space of her touch.
RE: our iron coffin - Astara - August 06, 2019
it was as well that merrick pushed no further. astara’s command over her interest was a tenuous thing; had he drifted any closer, he might have found the blackbird untethered from her temperate mooring.
resting her head against his, and feeling, sensing, the way his blood leapt under his skin, the sensation of his fur against hers — it was enough for the shadow to be content, but drive no further.
drawing another sigh from deep within her chest, astara pressed against him once and then rose. their contact was short — fleeting even — but that was the careful, sure way to tame something wild — give it small bouts of positivity, and build upon it.