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| The First Snow |
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Date Posted: 06:05:53 01/12/02 Sat
(( To Mysterious Revenge ))
~!~ Softly nibbling at the corner of her moist lips, carefully wetting the soft extremes, she ducks away, lowering her head in thin submission at his words. Tiny breaths of helplessness grow drawn and rapid, fluttering heart choked with an unknown emotion, a new thought and feeling that had suddenly erupted, crashed into her life and seemed was here to stay. Unable to put a name on the sensation, only knowing that she greatly enjoyed it, the malnourished figure tries a bit of the sweet grass at her knees, tentative nibbles growing into voracious ripping, nearly inhaling the succulent meal, painful stomach roaring as it begs tearfully for more. Exhausting herself, thin shoulder blades jutting high as she slumps over, tired figure rests her head upon the ground, suddenly too heavy to lift back up. The weight of his muzzle seemed unexpectedly horrendous, and the drapery of his airy tail upon her seemed to suddenly be composed of lead, crushing her hindquarters. Would she be able to rise if she was broken? Would she be able to run if need be? Tiny, pitiful cry snags in her skeletal throat, starved face rising towards the night sky in pleading, skull-like eye sockets sunken in, wild vision inside very much alive and sparking with fear. Thrashing around little more than a kick or two, air-boxing, thin eyelids droop over her weary sight, shutters flapping closed, long lashes beaded with tears of desperation. But he was here... would he protect her? What was there to fear out there in the darkness if he was alongside her? Obscure eyes complicating the already cryptic look stretched taunt across her chiseled face, free heart deeply anchored into the mud piled up from her emotional loss, silt grossly deposits itself by the free flowing river of intricate veins criss-crossing, adding to the muck already packing her very soul down, weaving their distorted way through her slender frame. Her wild past reflecting across her face, blowing away pieces of the mask she wears to reveal her raw emotion, dulling pain beneath, her glossy eyes find his own, becoming sharply aware of his gaze through the night. Possessed by intense life, dark eyes fragile and scarred, her stirring crashes to a halt as feeling comes back to her numb mind, intense gaze hooked on something deep within him, snagged on a stray piece of his essence, unable to be torn away for fear of further injury. Should she turn away? It was not right to hold one's gaze at the same level as another who was higher up in the scheme of things. Was she being disrespectful? Perhaps the steed would not hold true to his words, and she would be punished for this crime - such a severe misstep. But his obscure eyes were entrancing; she lifts her head higher, feeling her own face reflected in his charred gaze. It was good not to be alone. ~!~
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