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+--- Thread: Redsand Canyon But hearts believe in tomorrows. (/showthread.php?tid=43452)
But hearts believe in tomorrows. - Necahual - August 22, 2020
@Donovan Azura (a bit of pp, let me know if anything needs editing, I did try not to make assumptions lol but there was a bit of a jump since their last thread)
They seemed to have come to a mutual, albeit silent, understanding.
Whatever was happening between them, they didn't speak of it.
Discussing the delicate balance they'd found would have raised a number of concerns; truly, neither of them really seemed ready to settle down just yet. She needed time, to heal. And he had been betrayed in love once before, like the sainte herself. They'd continued the dance, skirting around one another as they toed the waters to gauge the temperature.
Perhaps the warlord was meant to be the wish she'd longed for, perhaps not. Perhaps they were meant to be nothing more than good friends who just got one another. Either way, she'd survive.
They'd not had much chance to speak since her sudden arrival - it seemed the storm wasn't the only thing brewing on the horizon, war was coming. She supposed he was busy, being Grandmaster.
When she found that the water level had lowered and the rain had abated, the sylph drug herself back down the slick, sloping cliffs - limping deeper into the canyons in search of the trail of her thoughts.
She hoped he was alone.
Fen had taken to seeking him in the night - on the days when the terrors troubled her even into the light. She simply could not sleep very well alone.
It was not every night she crept into his bed. She was no fool - she could smell the others on him, the reek of sex perfuming his coat (which stirred curious urges in the girl as she pressed close to him, oddly enough) filling the air as she curled herself against him. She had no desire to change him, in fact, in this they may have been strangely matched. The druids who'd taken her in had been open, accepting. So long as consent and respect abounded, petty jealousy was unnecessary.
Still, it would be best if she didn't come upon him in the throes of passion. There were important things to tend to.
"Donav?" The fae called as she came upon a particularly strong scent trail, sangria cutting into her pinkpads as she wound through the russet walls of stone.
Her ears perked alertly as she inched along, and her wintry gaze squinted against the dying light of sunset as it swept the corridors for Saints in need of help.
RE: But hearts believe in tomorrows. - Kynareth Deagon - August 26, 2020
Everything sound great! No editing needed! And I love the idea of them just hanging out all the time. So cute!! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶
Also WARNING for Donovan’s dirty mind and inappropriate words!
Also WARNING for Donovan’s dirty mind and inappropriate words!
He welcomed Awenfen in his den, just as he had many other pack members. Whether it be due to a sleepless, nightmare filled night, the primal desire to throw their bodies together, or even simple socialization. You name it, he just lets anyone come hangout in the belly of the beast. Though he hasn’t necessarily come into Awenfen like he has most of them. Of course he’s flirted with the beautiful wolfdog, yet he hasn’t gone much further no matter how tempted he’s been. He doesn’t understand why. Or maybe he does, who knows. She just seems to small and frail. Like he’d break her by just wrapping his massive arms around her waist in the unseemly act of bodily pleasures. Hell, on a more distracting note, he probably wouldn’t be able to fit anything inside of her.
Tonight though, his mind has drifted elsewhere than the thoughts of sexual pleasures. The orange tang of the sunset bathe the canyon in that glowing light, making it seem more red than it actually is. He sits inside of his den though, hidden by moderate darkness ad he lies his head on his paws. Plus he needs to heal off his wounds from his most recent battle with that fiery, three legged wolf from a couple days ago. Shit still stings like a motherfucker.
He perks his ears forward and lifts his head when a call of his name shines through the light of his cave. Only one says his name like that and he looks to the entrance to see the sleek, willowy, wolfdog Awenfen. He smiles to her playfully, a tease coming to his lips. “Evening, Dear. Looking for me?” He asks as if it weren’t obvious.