Ankyra Sound [m] Our Lady of the Underground

Wildness had grown through him, like vines in a neglected garden. Still- she saw beauty in him, both in the memories his image evoked and in the hard lines of his face. She learned the new ways of his movement, the new tone of his Atlantic-blue eyes, all while watching him walk steadily toward her, solid against the ebb and flow of tidal winds.

Still, she believed she dreamt. Even with the touch of his brow to hers, and the scent of his breath lingering near her, she told herself it was the most magnificent of dreams. However else could she persuaded him to take those steps, when it was becoming abundantly clear that she had no prospects?

”Stay wid me, for tonight; even if only for tonight,” She would settle for one night, knowing the dream would disappear in the morning. She hated to think she might not remember it- so she lifted her muzzle to brush it lovingly against his cheek, a movement both tender and brazen, as she reached to whisper a dauntless request into his nearest ear. Her breath rose like steam in a faint mist; her cheeks burned. The mist faded, but the words had been spoken. A moment later, she added:

”Please.”