August 06, 2020, 11:19 PM
✹☾❂
When he laughed, and then got kinda serious about it, Eleuthera picked up a single forepaw into a pointed stance and craned her neck to look back over her shoulder. He felt a presence? Kincaid, feeling a presence? and then a witch? Oh, she simply must know this story. With a healthy respect for magic (I mean, considering who raised her), Eleuthera had even met a few witches of her own during her roaming with Séamus. In fact, a small part of her considered the Faeries very witch-like, in many regards.
Kincaid’s seriousness about the omnipresent force did not go unnoticed, but as always, Eleuthera would try for a joke, first. “Oh?" she questioned at both his assertions — to Eleuthera, they appeared to be inextricably linked. Then, a slight cock of her brow. “Did she hex you?" Eleuthera peeled herself around entirely, back towards the distant coast, facing Kincaid as if he were land and sea combined. He amused her so, hexed or not.
She shook her head, to rid herself of water that tickled the pink of her ear, the blithe grin upon her maw never fading. “Perhaps this witch is why you do not leave the willows and return home — she cursed you to stay in one place, for all the rest of time." Her pale eyes flashed despite the glint of the rain all around, teasing him and loving it. It didn’t that they were currently not in the Hushed Willows; to travelers like them, the distance of one territory over was nothing compared to the open road. It was a truth they were both well aware of, and currently attempting to thwart with this small trip to the fields. “How perfectly awful for you." In fact, he had been here, with her, for quite a while now — so long that, in fact, the heat between Seelie Court and the Saints seemed to have cooled significantly. Was there even a threat, now?
Still, Kincaid was here — a fairy due to initiation, with an official pledge somewhere else far beyond the mountains. Eleuthera pranced back closer to him, appreciating any time he deigned to shower upon her. After Séamus’s death, every happy moment with a loved one was worth its weight in gold. She wished to go to him and lick the raindrops from his cheeks, but first, she wanted to hear whatever saucy retort he had for her relentless teasings.
Kincaid’s seriousness about the omnipresent force did not go unnoticed, but as always, Eleuthera would try for a joke, first. “Oh?" she questioned at both his assertions — to Eleuthera, they appeared to be inextricably linked. Then, a slight cock of her brow. “Did she hex you?" Eleuthera peeled herself around entirely, back towards the distant coast, facing Kincaid as if he were land and sea combined. He amused her so, hexed or not.
She shook her head, to rid herself of water that tickled the pink of her ear, the blithe grin upon her maw never fading. “Perhaps this witch is why you do not leave the willows and return home — she cursed you to stay in one place, for all the rest of time." Her pale eyes flashed despite the glint of the rain all around, teasing him and loving it. It didn’t that they were currently not in the Hushed Willows; to travelers like them, the distance of one territory over was nothing compared to the open road. It was a truth they were both well aware of, and currently attempting to thwart with this small trip to the fields. “How perfectly awful for you." In fact, he had been here, with her, for quite a while now — so long that, in fact, the heat between Seelie Court and the Saints seemed to have cooled significantly. Was there even a threat, now?
Still, Kincaid was here — a fairy due to initiation, with an official pledge somewhere else far beyond the mountains. Eleuthera pranced back closer to him, appreciating any time he deigned to shower upon her. After Séamus’s death, every happy moment with a loved one was worth its weight in gold. She wished to go to him and lick the raindrops from his cheeks, but first, she wanted to hear whatever saucy retort he had for her relentless teasings.
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
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Messages In This Thread
staring in the eyes of my poor soul - by Kincaid - August 04, 2020, 11:28 PM
RE: staring in the eyes of my poor soul - by Eleuthera - August 05, 2020, 06:08 PM
RE: staring in the eyes of my poor soul - by Kincaid - August 05, 2020, 10:22 PM
RE: staring in the eyes of my poor soul - by Eleuthera - August 06, 2020, 11:19 PM
RE: staring in the eyes of my poor soul - by Kincaid - August 23, 2020, 10:50 PM
RE: staring in the eyes of my poor soul - by Eleuthera - August 25, 2020, 02:47 AM