Wheeling Gull Isle let my imagination run away with you gladly

he took in her scent, the heady aroma of it engulfing him, dragging him under like the waves had once done. except, there, it had been panic. this was peace, deep, dark bliss. peace with guilt, clouding the almost-perfect nature of the scene--but peace, nonetheless.

shanti, it was called in his mother's tongue. and now, all of a sudden, chikni raat seemed a completely inadequate moniker for the woman he embraced now. she was shanti, the embodiment of serenity. and he'd stay for as long as she would allow.

her words reached his ears, and adi felt their legs intertwine, the sweet susurrus of her voice like a gentle breeze against his pelt. sad? nando?

and he laughed, a sudden, choked sound, ringing through the air. ever so reluctantly, he pulled away from her, staring down at her with eyes that burned like the summer sun, relentless, vibrant. yet in this moment, he felt hollow, his stomach sinking slowly as he gazed upon her.

shanti. mera pyaar.

"yes," adi lied, a forced smile curving the lines of his wide, expressive mouth. he blinked softly at her, a sigh slipping through his muzzle. "but it's okay. he's at peace. . .and so am i."

for now, at least.