Larksong Grotto by starlight

foward-dated to march 29th < 3 @Ishmira !!!!

"I met you where the river bends,"

a boyish song floats through bittern winds, carried along the currents with ease. one spun from the heart and not of the mind. and it's singer weaves through the snow and barren pines. plumes of frost sung into the sunset sky—his direction aimless. 

"Under skies that never bend..."

lanky, uncoordinated limbs carry him further into fierce north. not his typical haunt but the world was his to explore! and what good is a voice if he could not share it? there's a gentle sway to his steps, a pep as he continues his heartfelt tune. 

"You laughed and time stood still...gods, what rhymes with—" he mutters hopelessly to himself, pausing in his stride, brows furrowed in thought. whispers amongst himself until finally— "aha! Hearts got caught against their will." 

with a satisfied smile he stumbles on, humming gently to himself. a song for a love-sick fool.

white raven creeps through snowdrifts, a ghost against the skyline. morwenna has been kind to her. winsook has healed her wounds as best they can. still her neck aches deeply, muscle torn through by wolf's teeth.

morwenna does not want her out alone. the healer woman, too, has advised against it. but she can only tolerate entrapment for so long. she is of the wild, meant to feel the sky at her back. and so she slips away unnoticed when the time is right, just for a brief walk to clear her mind. the wind shifts, then, and she pauses. an unfamiliar scent. male, and not winsook. not blackfell, either.

she does not call out. she does not warn. ishmira hurtles silently over the snowdrift, jaws open in a c-shape as she shoulders the boy to the ground. standing over him, breath leaving her mouth in clouds of frost.

"this is not your land." she spits, one paw pressed firm upon his chest.

always so distracted and caught up by his whims and his muses, all he sees before he's being shoved against frozen ground is a blur of white. crashing against the earth with a wheeze-turned-yelp, his heart hammers wildly against his narrow chest.

a rapid, heavy rhythm that seems to skip a solid few beats as he stares—shellshocked—up at the girl. and oh, does it feel like a romantic tale he's sang all too many times before. a pale beauty that—if he were standing—surely would have made his knees feel weak. 

just like that, it's not fear that makes his heart stutter. it's pure raw, shy nerves. eyes the size of planets as he stares up at her with what foolishly might be awe. 

he's breathless, and he isn't sure if it's because of her beauty or if she'd knocked all the wind from his lungs. 

"oh, um—" he laughs. nervous because pretty girls have always made him so incredibly fucking nervous.

"i mean no harm! was just traveling. i-i'm a bard. y'know, people who sing and explore and—" he's rambling. but he can't help it!

 he's learned many things in his year spent traveling the world...but no one has taught him how to deal with a beautiful girl who looks like she wants to kill you.

a long stretch of quiet, tension pulled taut as she mulls over what to do with this fool. she should kill him now, just to be safe. perhaps sun eater has sent him to retrieve the children, to worm his way into their good graces and strike as they sleep.

but...she looks at him, and he is soft. gentle and pliant beneath her. something in her cold heart stirs, and she finds herself unwilling. he is hardly a threat, anyway. he speaks again, babbling nonsense about songs and bards and traveling. she puts a paw over his mouth, unimpressed.

"you talk too much. get up." she releases her hold and moves aside, still watching him with wary eyes and raised hackles.

once he has found his footing she circles him, a cold curiosity guiding her. she has not met a boy her own age in many months. are they all like this?

"you will tell me your name."