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+--- Thread: Phantom Hollow As fresh as a daisy, (/showthread.php?tid=63369)
As fresh as a daisy, - Hunst - November 08, 2024
Hunst moved silently through the shroud of night, his bulk a shadow within shadows as he pressed forward. The dense forest around them was silent but for the soft rustle of leaves, the faint hum of nocturnal life too low to disturb their passage. His steady gaze swept over the clearing up ahead, the tall grasses bowed beneath a whisper of wind.
With a faint nod to himself, Hunst halted, glancing over his shoulder to catch @Reverie’s eye. There was no need for words; his posture, his subtle tilt of the head, spoke clearly enough. This would be their place to stop, to finally grant their bodies the reprieve they'd been denying for hours. The air here was still, the scent of pine and earth clean. It felt safe—or as safe as any place could be at this hour.
Without ceremony, Hunst shifted his weight, the hard lines of his figure softening slightly as he settled in. Even at rest, he remained a silent sentinel, his scarred face lifted to keep a watchful eye on the night around them.
RE: As fresh as a daisy, - Reverie - November 08, 2024
Nowhere felt safe.
Not to Reverie, not anymore — but she trusted Hunst's instinct. When they'd traveled as a group it had been her who signaled the end of each day's journey, her who chose their camps and roused each companion with the sun. But in the absence of others to organize, Reverie had turned distracted; occupied with her grief, with her endless planning, perhaps a bit too reliant now on Hunst.
But he made it so easy. Reverie nodded once and began to unpack her things, still lost in her thoughts. She wrapped her fox pelt, a threadbare cloak by now, around her shoulders and thought of Crowfeather. She hoped that he was well, wherever he was.
A surge of loneliness sent her prancing to Hunst's side. Reverie dropped to her belly beside him, stretching almost playfully as she turned on her side to face him.
What are you thinking about when you look so serious?She wondered aloud, eyes brighter than they'd been.
RE: As fresh as a daisy, - Hunst - November 08, 2024
Hunst watched her prance over, a shadow of something playful in her stride, the ghost of someone unburdened. His gaze drifted down as she dropped beside him, stretching with her familiar ease. But he could see it—that glint of weariness buried beneath the momentary brightness in her eyes, a reflection of the ever-present ache that softened her voice, even now.
He dropped the deer leg before her, a wordless offering. Coming from his own deer pelt satchel of leftovers. It thudded against the ground, faint splatters of blood marking the dirt, an echo of the hunt that had brought it down. Reverie was always one for talk, for the dance of questions. But tonight, Hunst felt little inclination to indulge her curiosity, only to offer the solid comfort of his presence, the assurance of what he could control.
He lowered himself slowly onto his haunches, silent as the gathering dusk, holding her gaze with his stony stare. What did she expect him to think of? Of the trails they'd left behind, of the cold air pressing in on them, of the restless weight of vigilance that, like her, he couldn’t shake? He grunted, but it wasn’t irritation; it was understanding.
Thinking you need to eat.
Hunst wasn’t one for brooding, but he felt the loneliness that lingered between her words, a pull as familiar as any bruise. He leaned forward, resting his broad muzzle just above her head for a moment, before drawing back.
RE: As fresh as a daisy, - Reverie - November 09, 2024
Reverie grimaced slightly in reflexive response to Hunst's offering. Her appetite had been a slim thing for months now — ever since Dusty Rose's abduction. Her husband was safe now, free and far from where her father might harm him, but the continued absence of her daughters had taken its own heavy toll. She missed @Dahlia's smile, Foxglove's laughter, @Petal's embrace. She missed teaching them about the world each day and tucking them into her arms at night.
How could she think about eating?
Her stomach flipped and her throat tensed with sudden nausea. The warmth of Hunst's brief closeness was a welcome distraction; a desperate one. Where he hesitated, she closed the distance thoughtlessly, cheek pressing against his shoulder.
I hear soldiers are always thinking about food,Reverie's tone was teasing, but distant. Her thoughts were scattered, wandering, dancing in circles around the Sea-Snake guardian without ever truly touching his name.
RE: As fresh as a daisy, - Hunst - November 09, 2024
Hunst's brow lifted, momentarily taken aback by Reverie’s touch, though he didn’t withdraw. The gesture, delicate but laden with unspoken need, stirred something rare within him—a quiet hum of approval escaping his chest, low and grounding, as if anchoring her to the present.
Soldiers work hard. Hard work makes you hungry.
He let her words settle in the air, weightier than her teasing tone suggested. His usual detached stoicism softened, recognizing her distraction as more than just the idle musings of a restless spirit. Reverie's grief lingered like the fog over dawn waters, a half-lit sorrow she struggled to hide, despite her quip.
Silence lay between them, a thread neither wished to break. He didn’t need to speak to grant truth to her sentiment; his stillness alone offered it weight. In this fragile moment, she found a steadfast presence—a quiet sanctuary within his massive shadow, where words could rest unspoken.
Guess I could call you a soldier, now.
RE: As fresh as a daisy, - Reverie - November 10, 2024
Reverie couldn't help but laugh softly at that — her, a soldier!
Sounds a bit too imperialist for me,She countered lightheartedly, tail swaying across the ground as she spoke.
I've always been more of an anarchist, you know?
Besides - war is the language of men with no conflict resolution skills,A touch of haughtiness to her words then; Reverie leaned away to meet his eyes, to see what he made of that. If not for the threat to her daughters' safety she would have left Casco Bay to its own defense. They seemed familiar enough with war — and she had no interest in it, truly.
RE: As fresh as a daisy, - Hunst - November 10, 2024
Hunst’s smirk turned wry as he looked at her, his Northern accent thickening.
Aye, men can be right meatheads,he chuckled, the sound rumbling low.
Charging in, fists before words, and thinking with little but bone between the ears.
He leaned back, a touch of playful challenge in his gaze.
But a bit o’ brute strength’s got its place, doesn’t it? Keeps the reckless sorts from stirring up too much trouble.He raised a brow, his eyes glinting with humor.
Not all of us can talk our way out o’ things, after all. Some of us are better suited for the… blunt approach.
Then, with a shrug, he added,
Though maybe I’ll give this anarchist talk a try—don’t look too shocked if it’s not quite natural.
RE: As fresh as a daisy, - Reverie - November 10, 2024
I think you have the right idea already,Her thoughtful expression belied the lazy flirtation in her tone, and her smile was faint.
You learn to like the taste of your own power. That's all it really is. Whether it's words or... brute strength.
Reverie leaned back against him as she finished, her touch softer this time; more deliberate.
Have you ever felt truly free?She wondered quietly, thinking back now to her early days in the Rising Sun Valley; how wild and untethered she'd been, just a girl flitting wherever the wind took her. True freedom — a thousand choices spread out before her like diamonds.
Strangely, she didn't miss it.
RE: As fresh as a daisy, - Hunst - November 11, 2024
Hunst’s gaze remained steady as Reverie spoke, her words weaving through the quiet night. She leaned back against him, her presence softer, laced with a strange vulnerability. He listened, though his own thoughts were rooted in something simpler, something unyielding and earthbound. Power was necessity—words, strength, they were tools, nothing more.
When she asked about freedom, he looked away, toward the dark line of trees, shadows merging with the night. True freedom had never been his to imagine. His life had always been forged from duty, shaped by choices made not for himself, but for the sake of others.
No,he answered, his voice low, firm. There was no bitterness, only the acceptance of a life shaped by loyalty and purpose.
RE: As fresh as a daisy, - Reverie - November 11, 2024
No. The answer didn't surprise her. Hunst didn't strike her as a man who often dreamed for himself. In all the time she'd known him, only once had he chosen his own path; even then she wondered if his decision had truly been his own. Did it count if it was for the good of another?
Do you want to?Reverie shifted to press more of her flank against his own, shivering lightly at the touch of his warmth to her cold fur. What would he choose for himself, if he could? She couldn't help but wonder, she who had fought so bitterly for her right to choose for herself.
RE: As fresh as a daisy, - Hunst - November 11, 2024
Hunst glanced down at her, watching the faint tremor that ran through her. Without a word, he shifted, lowering himself to the ground and pulling her close, his sturdy form pressing warmth into her cold fur. The night air nipped at them, but he wouldn’t let it seep any further; not while he was here to keep it at bay.
Her question lingered, soft and piercing, and he let it settle in his mind as he held her, his thoughts drifting over the years, over choices made and paths walked, each one with purpose but never truly for himself.
I don’t know,he murmured finally, his voice as steady as his hold on her, quiet but honest. freedom, for him, was like a shadow—always there, but just out of reach, something he understood only through watching others seek it.
I don't know what it feels like.
RE: As fresh as a daisy, - Reverie - November 14, 2024
Was it wrong of her to hold these moments so close to her heart? Hunst wrapped her in his arms, and it half felt like a place she was always meant to be. It half felt like a fate that would bring her to ruin. Either was dangerous, yet she found she didn't care.
Instead she pressed her nose to his jaw, a promise on her lips:
I could show you.Had she not taught herself how to fly? Everyone she'd ever tried to bring with her had soared far too close to her sunfire, everyone save Dusty Rose — but she'd never needed to teach her husband how to fly.
RE: As fresh as a daisy, - Hunst - November 14, 2024
Hunst's hold tightened, his rough hands resting firm but gentle, as if he could shield her from the dangers that lingered just beyond them both. Reverie’s words, her closeness, the softness of her breath against his jaw—all stirred something deep and unyielding within him. He allowed himself this, just this moment, even as her husband’s name surfaced in his mind, casting a shadow over the warmth he felt.
Maybe,he murmured, his voice a low rumble, restrained. The word held more weight than he intended, a simple answer that wrapped up all the complications, the unspoken feelings that simmered between them.
Her promise lingered, a warmth he didn’t want to release, yet he knew too well how these things ended. Still, as he held her there, he allowed himself one more breath of her closeness, knowing full well he might carry it long after she was gone.