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Date Posted: 20:46:20 03/01/03 Sat
Author: Ludovicus and Mycaelis
Author Host/IP: dsl254-077-118.nyc1.dsl.speakeasy.net / 216.254.77.118
Subject: -(-Twice the Fun-)-
In reply to: Kitsune 's message, "**Fox Spirit**" on 15:51:10 03/01/03 Sat

{Quite nearly frolicking through the trees, the sprite almost runs completely over the weeping fae before seeing her. Stopping just short of a few inches, he stares down at her uncomprehendingly; the large smile usually pasted upon his lips faded momentarily in confusion. Leaning down, he runs dancing fingertips over air and space to kiss the tender flesh that forms her cheek. Catching the wetness of her tears on those slender fingers, he presses the salty grief to his lips as if by tasting he can bring understanding. Clearly it does not, for he turns swiftly to bisect his companion's steps with his darkened gaze; surely Mycaelis will know...?}

[Steady steps quickly follow the light-footed fairy over rocks and small crevasses laying unseen to many. Boring speedily of the game of race, Ludovicus had insisted on simply walking the rest of the way. Nevertheless, when the ever-moving sprite had run off again, Mycaelis had not been surprised. The only surprise Mycaelis finds in his friend's actions is finding the sprite paused in his tracks, bending over a young female. Brow furrowing, he is quickly close enough to see the moisture that sparkles faintly upon her cheek, and the teeth that mark her lip. Gently he approaches, his hands kept close so that she will not be forced to suffer the indignity of privacy invaded - though little does he know that already his companion has done what he avoids. His voice as gentle as his approach and gaze, he speaks in first with apology, and then with information, and last in question.

+I am sorry for our intrusion,+ he begins, shooting a distinct look at his friend that
causes him to step sharply back in immediate obedience. +My name is Mycaelis, and this is Ludovicus.... Can we help you?+ Again his green eyes are turned towards the fae, his thumbs hooking his pants so that his tattooed hands might hang lazily downwards.]


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