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+--- Thread: Moonstone Quarry velvety and caressing (/showthread.php?tid=65677)
velvety and caressing - Aneira - April 15, 2025
aw <3 hoping to make some acquaintances!
The sky was a deep, velvet blue, caught somewhere between dusk and nightfall, when the stars had not yet gathered the courage to show their faces, and the wind held its breath in the hollows. Aneira stood at the edge of the quarry. The stones beneath her paws were pale and quiet, brushed gold by the last amber streaks of sunlight slanting through the trees. She had returned here, guided less by thought than by instinct. Something about the meeting with Towhee had stirred embers long cooled; ghosts of ash and memory now drawn back to life: Asterism Grove.She whispered the name in her mind like a prayer, or a curse. The landslide had taken many things, faces, futures, and the shape of a place she had once nearly called home. Aneira had fled before the dust had even settled, chasing the fear that if she stayed too long, she’d be buried under the grief of it all. But she had never truly forgotten.
Now, her paws moved carefully across the quarry’s uneven floor, skimming cracks and ridges carved by time and weight. A soft breeze stirred her fur, brushing the pale strands like ghost fingers, and her turquoise eyes traced the jagged walls as if they held answers. Her reflection flickered across shallow puddles left by old rains, distorted, distant.
She lowered her head, brushing her muzzle along a smooth outcrop streaked with age. This place had its own memory, silent but stubborn. And in that silence, she wondered what it had seen; if the earth, too, remembered every name once spoken above it.
With a slow breath, Aneira sat, letting dusk wrap around her shoulders like a shawl. She did not call for anyone. This moment was not meant to be shared. It was for the Grove, for the ones buried in stone and time. For what had been lost… and what might yet be reclaimed. The frostmaiden thought of Solharr now, how he did not give up on her and offered a home; she would remember it.
The stars began to appear, one by one. And still, she watched the quarry.
RE: velvety and caressing - Fleur - April 15, 2025
had to snag, I hope that’s okay! ^^
Nights were always the hardest. Some days it was hard to fall asleep, some to stay asleep, or some to even sleep at all. The latter affected her this time—flashes of water, screams and cries, faces she was supposed to know yet couldn’t remember played over and over in her mind every time her eyes closed, stealing any sleep she might have tonight.
So, she left her den to walk the Quarry, the elk shawl draped over her shoulders, shielding her from the chill that darkness brings.
She paused to situate the shawl tighter, looking around as she did so. A ghostly figure sat not far from where she stood. A slow breath in through her nose told her only that the other belonged here, that Forneskja had claimed this one as theirs.
Not wanting to startle, Fleur stayed put, but cleared her throat as an indication of her presence, then soft words followed.
The Quarry is beautiful at night. If you look into the water pools, they become earth’s mirrors; the stars are alive there much the same as they are in the night sky.
RE: velvety and caressing - Aneira - April 22, 2025
you're more than welcome <3
The frostmaiden did not startle; only turned, slow as a turning tide, her breath misting in the moonlight. The fur along her shoulders stirred where the wind slipped beneath it, silvering her outline as if the night itself had brushed her in frost. Her gaze, cold and glacial, found the voice through the dark; a flicker of recognition, not of face, but of presence.Aneira lingered in stillness, the quiet between them as sacred as prayer. Then, she moved, just enough for the stars to catch in the glint of her eyes as she turned them toward a nearby pool, its mirrored surface undisturbed. „I’ve seen them,” she began at last, her voice soft, low, like the hush of snow falling on stone, „The stars in the water. Sometimes I think they burn brighter down there... as if the earth stole them and buried them deep to keep for itself.”
Her head tilted slightly, the curve of her neck graceful, thoughtful: „The Quarry remembers,” she went on, quieter now, as though speaking too loudly might stir something ancient from the stone; „Every step, every sorrow. It does not echo; it keeps.”
The wind wound gently through the hollow, combing the fur along her shoulders, and she adjusted her stance; just a slight turn, a soft shift of weight, so that if the other chose, she could step closer. Aneira did not beckon, she didn’t need to. The space beside her opened like a page left blank between two verses.
RE: velvety and caressing - Fleur - April 25, 2025
Fleur stepped closer, her gaze tracing the contours of the woman’s face—what little she could see—committing it to memory in the quiet hope that one day, a name might accompany it. For now, she simply listened, letting the woman’s words settle over them both like a gentle tide.
The sun-kissed girl shivered.
The Quarry was, and still is, a place of breathtaking beauty—vast and silent, yet welcoming in its stillness. The moonlit woman spoke of it as though it were alive, a being that breathed through the wind that swept gently around them. Perhaps it was. Perhaps the breeze that stirred their fur was its breath, carrying with it the whispers of those who came before, and the dreams of those yet to arrive. Perhaps truths—or secrets—were etched into the very stone, waiting for those brave enough to seek them.
Perhaps it does. And if it keeps, surely it must also share what knowledge it holds?There was a fragile hope in her thoughts then. She would give anything to uncover who she was, and why she stood in this place. What had happened before the sea swept away her memories?
I am Fleur. What should I call you?She did not know many names of those who call this place home. Solharr and Ezra are the only two who she could recall, the others are by sight alone.
The lost girl wanted to collect names like they were seashells, hoping that one at the very least would want to collect her in return; she was tired of drifting back out to that wretched sea with nothing to ground her.
The winds stirred, brushing her cheek gently as if to say her wishes were heard, and maybe—some day—they would be answered.
RE: velvety and caressing - Aneira - April 27, 2025
Turquoise gaze softened as she watched Fleur, her sharp eyes noting the way the young woman held herself, the hesitance in her stance. There was something fragile in the way Fleur moved, a leaf caught in a breeze. The scent of Solharr clung to her, faint but undeniable, and Aneira felt a flicker of something sharp twist in her chest. She swallowed it down, forcing her thoughts to quiet as she steadied her own breath.
She gave a soft nod, her voice clear but measured when she spoke: „I am Aneira,” her words were simple, but carried a weight of their own. She didn’t need much else, her name was enough, for now.
The faint scent of Solharr mixed with the crisp, cold air of the Quarry, and the realization made something in Aneira stir, a quiet unease that crept through her, a flicker of jealousy, irrational and undeserved, yet undeniable. She had no claim on him. They were both free, and yet that knowledge did little to still the turmoil building inside her. Aneira swallowed the sensation, forcing her breath to remain steady. You’ve been here before, she reminded herself. You’ve been through worse. You can stand this.
Her eyes scanned Fleur once more, taking in the girl’s aura, the way she seemed to be still searching for something, for someone. It made Aneira wonder how many had come before her, how many had stood here with the same questions. She stepped closer, not quite invading Fleur's space, but closing the distance just enough to share the quiet of the moment. Her voice was steady but carried a thread of curiosity. „How did you end up here?” she asked. „In the Quarry, with Forneskja?” Her eyes flicked back to Fleur, lingering on her fur, noting the way she held herself: too cautious, too searching, like someone still waiting for something to click into place. Maybe she was just as lost as Aneira had been when she first arrived.
And still, despite the questions forming in her mind, despite her desire to know, there was a quiet part of her that didn’t want Fleur to answer. Didn’t want to hear anything that might make her feel… even more distant from the sun man. She pushed that feeling back too, burying it under layers of indifference, though it was harder this time.
RE: velvety and caressing - Fleur - April 27, 2025
Aneira. Another precious shell, shiny and white, added to the growing collection in her heart; its home next to another, one just as new—though, where his brought warmth, hers brought a chill. It was not unpleasant—truthfully, quite the opposite—moreso along the lines of the unexpected.
Well met, Aneira. I am so happy to know another here.
The longer her eyes drank in the snow woman as the distance closed, the more rapidly the thrumming of her heart fluttered. Her gaze shifted, finding absolutely anything else to be her focus as a soft blush crept over her cheeks.
I—Well, I had washed ashore here. Or—I think that was what happened. It was a year ago—a long, long year ago.She paused, returning to Aneira, sunstone meeting turquoise once more.
I found others, strangers turned friends, whom I travelled with for a time. But, they left me. For months I travelled along the coast, alone, searching for them, but came up empty at every turn. I finally had enough of the salty air, so I built up the courage to move more inland. Tired and wanting a rest, I stopped in a nearby glen—a pause to jerk her head
—east of here.The words echoed in the calm quiet of the Quarry, each one soon settling itself within the stacks of ancient stone.
That is where Solharr found me. He guided me to Forneskja in the forest shortly before he announced their move, and I have followed him, and the pack, here—to home.
Maybe, Aneira had been correct. The Quarry might keep, after all. She let out a soft sound—part laugh, part amazed hum—as the truth of it sank in.
And you, Aneira? What is your story? I have only met one other, his name is Ezra; he, too, was found by Solharr. Am I correct to assume that your journey to be here started with him as well?Her words were light, feather soft, partly in jest but there was weighted truth there; it seemed everything started with him.