can you hear that wonderful sound?
The Ferris wheel has started, now we’re stuck going round and round…
The aura of serenity enveloping Carnival was golden, and, it turned out, elastic. At times she would suddenly catch a chill, and dive beneath the water just to hang in the beautiful blue-green realm and dispel the shivers from her bones. The true problem was not in the cold itself, but the memory of the cold that hugged her thoughts so closely, refusing to sink. Her own damned brain was acting as a buoy for her trivial physical longings. No matter how deep she dove (until the water, like obsidian silk, stroked her eyelids) or how violently she thrashed (swallowing mouthfuls until she could’ve sworn her stomach gargled with fish), the motor memory was still there. She could forget the shadows and the lust, but those creeping cobalts burned behind her ambers, and her collar tingled where he’d caressed it. Through it all, her protective bubble refused to burst. When her efforts were rendered fruitless, and she returned to the mindless float, there was no penetrating anger or disappointment. There was nothing and no one. Carn was happy.
Even when she was no longer alone, and heard the thrashing in the forest, she could only muster enough curiosity to cock an ear towards the green smudge of the horizon, a faint chuckle rumbling in her throat. The lass sure was having a hell of a time with it. Lazily, the wolfess drifted towards the shore, observing the trials of this girl, who descended from the foliage quite rapidly (as if all the beasts of hell bit at her heels), and settled with a plop that even Carn felt in her bones. She’d made them same relieved face, felt that same rest in her bones, at first arriving here on the sunrise-kissed sand. But the eyes of her friend grew larger and rounder by the second as she saw that she was not alone; Carn could practically scent her wariness. She rolled her eyes and ducked once more beneath the crystalline sea. The girl’s innocence reminded her the games she’d initiated last night--or was it the ebon pelt, somehow so common around here, that pulled the trigger?
She came up restored, and set her sights on the stranger, paddling slowly to propel herself towards the sand. Carn had always been a wing-ripper. The best was when she held them between her teeth as if they were delicate as glass. She would smile; ah yes, the smile was key to the cleanliness of the tear. They struggled less when they had their throa--ah, wings, ripped ou--off, when they felt safe. Today, for the first time in a long time, Carn felt completely herself. Perhaps it was the absence of males, after all, she had just come out of Desolation. Sensory deprivation was a special sort of torture for an adult. Today, she did not feel coy, girly, or at all desperate. Being alone and at peace had restored her facilities, and she clacked her teeth just to hear their lethal scrape that was her power and source of pride.
When she wasn’t flirty she was still dangerous, not to be taken lightly in any situation. But here they were, two wolves on heaven’s beaches, and wasn’t it only right of her to pay it forward for what the day had already given her? She did not know of the fragile wings in her possession when she drew towards the girl and sat down near her, licking her chest fur down thoughtfully as the rest of her multi-hued pelt began to dry out in downy patches. The shadowy wolfess in front of her stared out to the water with such intensity that Carnival knew nothing but a generous respect for her ability to concentrate so deeply. Then again, there was a fine line between concentration and a total absence of thought that prohibited her from making any sort of clear judgment. She stared intently at the stranger for a second before humming, “I’ll leave you alone if you want to be left alone. But you look worried. Don’t let worry be your weakness.” What prompted her to speak to this wolf? Perhaps it was the way fear permeated her features so thoroughly, though they were fine features and spoke, if not of great happiness, of radiant health. No, it was more likely the vibe that the stranger was too much in the moment, and Carn felt badly for her. She knew only two ways to remedy the situation; talking, and fighting.
It was a nice day and this was pleasant company despite her apparent intrusion. She’d leave without another word if the girl wished it.
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