in the frosty morning, she ventured through the vale like a white glacier calved and drifting aimlessly, except phaedra's knobbly legs were landloping and deliberate in their quest. cain had told her about a flower that somewhat resembled her eyes, and she was loath to look at her reflection in the water to see their true color, so she sought out these autumn crocus.
the meadow was no jurisdiction for a marten though, on account of winged churls—she'd promised to keep him safe, but he had reservations about that assertion and set off to break his fast on some hapless rabbit or vole.
so, she only had his description and general location to go by and spent the better part of dayspring determined to find these flowers. the cold and bracing wind challenged her, nipping her nose and cheeks in impetuous sieges, but she persisted.
"purple n' yellow ... autumn croak us," she reminded herself unsurely, snuffling and nosing aside some grass anytime a slip of purple caught her eye. so far, her search was coming up empty, and she was starting to get incredulous, thinking her little friend had sent her on a fool's errand.
sensing movement to her left, she jerked her head up and looked towards the bracken woods as a young doe pressed from the shadows and began to graze on the rushes. a sieger wife ... she thought, settling on her belly to watch the lone ruminate.
the meadow was no jurisdiction for a marten though, on account of winged churls—she'd promised to keep him safe, but he had reservations about that assertion and set off to break his fast on some hapless rabbit or vole.
so, she only had his description and general location to go by and spent the better part of dayspring determined to find these flowers. the cold and bracing wind challenged her, nipping her nose and cheeks in impetuous sieges, but she persisted.
"purple n' yellow ... autumn croak us," she reminded herself unsurely, snuffling and nosing aside some grass anytime a slip of purple caught her eye. so far, her search was coming up empty, and she was starting to get incredulous, thinking her little friend had sent her on a fool's errand.
sensing movement to her left, she jerked her head up and looked towards the bracken woods as a young doe pressed from the shadows and began to graze on the rushes. a sieger wife ... she thought, settling on her belly to watch the lone ruminate.
October 18, 2020, 11:15 PM
if you want me delete just say the word, i was meaning to tag phaedra in a thread but i hope this is okay ♥ also im sorry if replies are slow for future reference! i was today days old when i learned myrrh is not spelled like mir, huh
A plump rabbit raised from the thicket, bruise-bright blueberries, and sweeping heather;
the perfect gift for a prima-donna girl (in his point of view, anyways). Over the past few daysuns the little knife fingers thru dusted mem'ry of stagnant altercations between him and Wylla's brood, often ending with whiplash from vilifying quips. Dastardlier, younger Astraeus would have never seen him on this path, now! Donning gifts to his estranged milk-kin. Shy upflick of the corners of his lips what he's doing is a questionable gesture, though he feels enlightenment will soon flit on his weighted breasts.
of course, it was only a selfish action. He much more concerned of the preservation of personal respect, however that ship had sailed, crashed and found itself at the bottom of a ocean ravine.
All three magi, kings three, things three; toting endowments of gold, frankincense and myrrh to baby Emmanuel — oh and she was resting, talking to a doe maybe? He quietly falls into step beside her lain figure, swiveling his ears, waiting for reluctant recognition.
October 19, 2020, 02:10 PM
keeping the hind in sight, unbidden her nose began to twist and huff at the suggestion of carrion. the doe seemed to sense death as well, for she'd flushed into the shin-tangle as astraeus padded behind phaedra.
thereafter phaedra followed the tow of her nose and her gaze dimmed with displeasure upon what she saw, or rather who she saw. the boy’d filled out since their last meet. he was easily a head taller than her now despite his younger age, and the fury from someone other than her incarnated itself across his eye as lacerationss formed like a rapier.
but it was not his features that caused her to leap to her feet and grimace, bodily recoiling from him— it was the bouqet befouled by his mouth that made her reel. for an instant she took leave of her senses and it was caintigern she saw drooping from his mouth, and the thought made her feel ill. she remembered, though, how clever and stealthy her companion was, and reassurance loosened her shoulders so she could properly square him off.
"what? what do you want? why'd you follow me here for?" she immediately began her cross-examination, squinting eyes that'd been transported from awe to aversion in a matter of moments.
thereafter phaedra followed the tow of her nose and her gaze dimmed with displeasure upon what she saw, or rather who she saw. the boy’d filled out since their last meet. he was easily a head taller than her now despite his younger age, and the fury from someone other than her incarnated itself across his eye as lacerationss formed like a rapier.
but it was not his features that caused her to leap to her feet and grimace, bodily recoiling from him— it was the bouqet befouled by his mouth that made her reel. for an instant she took leave of her senses and it was caintigern she saw drooping from his mouth, and the thought made her feel ill. she remembered, though, how clever and stealthy her companion was, and reassurance loosened her shoulders so she could properly square him off.
"what? what do you want? why'd you follow me here for?" she immediately began her cross-examination, squinting eyes that'd been transported from awe to aversion in a matter of moments.
He doesn't remember Jesus complaining about it;
as Phaedra, with the little parhelions in her lavender gaze, knits her brows into a grimacing visage as those fake suns traced the cicatrix of him, the grooves still illustrating his sorrows on skin-made parchment — he faintly remember the salt-sting of tears in droves traveling down down down, he was marked for good.
The girl had recoiled from him like a nerve to flame, and he is reminded how sickeningly girlish she is and almost elects to become figment again and disappear. But he is foolhardy and steadfast this autumn morn (you little boy inside me!) and determined to make something out of this early endeavor.
Hankering, huddled; he noses his collective knick-knacks one by one, though the berries are piled and mused together with dribble and heather was cracking... and the rabbit's meat was probably stringy and taut telling from the toting of his needletooths on its ribs — well, lo!
“Brib- treaty, offer. For friendship .... somethings,” he begins, sluggish speaking as if noting off the notes scribbled unto his hand under his desk he continues now in a tongue she may prefer, however broken as he isn't as educated on the specifics: “Wir sind ... irgendwie gleich?”
He could say he most definitely finessed that.
Phaedra turns her back to him. Astraeus begrudgingly accepts the fact they may never be friends and he cannot pry into her mind as he'd hoped. Leaving her alone, he goes back to the peak, leaving the gifts with her if she still wanted to make use of them.
as Phaedra, with the little parhelions in her lavender gaze, knits her brows into a grimacing visage as those fake suns traced the cicatrix of him, the grooves still illustrating his sorrows on skin-made parchment — he faintly remember the salt-sting of tears in droves traveling down down down, he was marked for good.
The girl had recoiled from him like a nerve to flame, and he is reminded how sickeningly girlish she is and almost elects to become figment again and disappear. But he is foolhardy and steadfast this autumn morn (you little boy inside me!) and determined to make something out of this early endeavor.
Hankering, huddled; he noses his collective knick-knacks one by one, though the berries are piled and mused together with dribble and heather was cracking... and the rabbit's meat was probably stringy and taut telling from the toting of his needletooths on its ribs — well, lo!
“Brib- treaty, offer. For friendship .... somethings,” he begins, sluggish speaking as if noting off the notes scribbled unto his hand under his desk he continues now in a tongue she may prefer, however broken as he isn't as educated on the specifics: “Wir sind ... irgendwie gleich?”
He could say he most definitely finessed that.
edit: archiving! sorry it took me so long to do so! lmk if the pp needs to change : )
Phaedra turns her back to him. Astraeus begrudgingly accepts the fact they may never be friends and he cannot pry into her mind as he'd hoped. Leaving her alone, he goes back to the peak, leaving the gifts with her if she still wanted to make use of them.
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