for she is precious and divine
When her gaze finds his own, it's like magic, and almost all pretenses wash away. There is no worry any longer, no pain, no discomfort. There is nothing but pure bliss, warmth, and happiness. He wishes to be no where else but here before her, with her beautiful ice gaze settled on him and only him.
She heeds his whine, her wonderful form lifting and coming toward him with unparalleled grace. He is so taken with her that he barely even notices her now oh so close proximity- barely a hairs length away. She pauses then, as he has, hestiation clear in her expressive gaze, and when his mismatche irises find just that, he cannot help his second whine. He feels it- he feels her inside of him, and at this very core. He wanted to comfort her, and he just couldn't hold himself back any longer. Even if it was only brief, he simply had to.
Leaning forward, he brushed his chocolate and silver muzzle ever so gently against her own, the contact for but a moment before he's pulling away. He didn't want to overwhelm, but he wanted so bad to know what her warmth was like, the sweet scent of her fur. Already he was memorizing the sweet perfume she gave off, one of heady pine, sweet sap, and succulent honey. It was intoxicating to him, and he knew he would and coul never get enough of it. But her words she gives him- they are unknown to him, but the most beautiful music to his ears. Her voice is gruff and while some males might not find it so attractive- he could never find anything about her unattractive.
Holo knows the language she speaks is another one than his entirely, and he wishes to know where it is she comes from, what it is she speaks. Would she teach it to him, if he asked her to? Tilting his slender, scarred skull ever so slightly to the left, he watches her for longer before her words grace him again- this time in his own tongue. He can feel his limbs tiring slightly from the added weight they've learned to carry, and so while listening intently he reclines to make himself more comfortable, to give himself rest. It was a strange thing, the feeling of only sitting upon one haunch, and undoubtedly there was the slightest tilt to his frame.
He is no ghost, and hopefully his touched had proved just that to her. Always others find him to be some fourm of apparation- perhaps just the silver tones weaved throughout his fur to give him a phantom appearance, or perhaps just that it was the minds of those others. Either way, he wanted to reassure her, more than he ever had for anyone. "I am real, my Moon and Stars." His smile is gentle, tender, and his mismatched gaze is intense and focused on her own. He refuses to look away, and even if he wanted to or tried- he could not. He was caught and he would rather be no place else. "Please.. your name? I'm Holo."
too rich a pearl for carnal swine
male || twelve || love of none || soul of valkyrie || quill of taviora