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Ruieze Fields
Open fields and soft grass...
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| sorcier ❧ four ❧ no heart ❧ ❧ leafshadow’s shield ❧ taviora gatherer ❧ |
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Watching her acknowledge his invitation, there was a swelling in his heart that made his insides feel hollow, but quickly replaced by this ethereal sensation that made him feel like how he should have as a pup. There was a joy that only her company could bring, one that only this angel could unearth from the wolf with earthbound fur and Sorcier wasn’t about to just allow for that feeling to leave, but draw it out for as long as she would provide him of her presence. The barks that erupted from her maw were carried in the same manner as his own, but there would always be something more appealing about hers than he. With her sharp and quick yaps, they merely parted the way for a howl whose song was restrained from unleashing its truest beauty just for the sake of the hour. It was obvious that the male wanted to hear more of it, his ears pulling forward as his fire-licked eyes gazed at the youth before him. Perhaps as the day passed into the hours of night, Sorcier would be graced by Ambrosia’s song. It felt more like a lifetime since he had sung to the sky above as well. He didn’t even sing for his presence to be noted for when he seeked refuge in Taviora, he simply had waited. He hadn’t quite the idea what to sing for, what to call out to—but with Ambrosia, he just may have an idea of where to start. Looking to the sky, the sun was starting to make it’s decent across the horizon, but it was still a long time before such would happen. That gave him all of the time in the world to work up whatever magic he could muster to keep her at bay, to keep her on this journey with him before they would devastatingly part their ways. The thought of leaving this newfound companion was something that struck like a mallet on his heart, but quickly discouraged its pain as she made her way at his side. The brush of her muzzle along his own left him to close his eyes, the touch one most comforting to him, before he laid his muzzle overtop the crowne of her skull and, with a cooing growl from the depths of his swollen chest, he embraced her to the hearth of the fire before releasing her and continuing forth. As his soil colored paws trekked along this foreign terrain, he couldn’t help but take notice of the foliage and plants here that were estranged from the lands of Taviora. His mind wandered briefly considering the fact that perhaps some of the healing wolves back in the packlands were blind to these, unaware of whatever properties of healing or, if needed, ailment it may possess. It then began to dawn on him that, for Ambrosia’s age, he wondered what lands she hasn’t ventured off to and how it would delight him so to take her there, away from the surroundings that she may be so custom to. Since the Ruieze Fields were merely bordering that of her homeland of Diveen, it only made sense that this small fragment was blessed by the same aura, though less concentrated. What it must be like to roam the same turf as Ambrosia, Sorcier may never know, but all that mattered was that in this hour, they were treading side along side, and that made this fire-swathed wolf burn brighter still. With his thoughts slightly idle on Diveen, he wondered if Ambrosia was fluent in their tongue. He knew that she was fluent in the common language and that the Angels spoke in Latin. Sorcier himself was not fluent in such tongue but ever did his eager mind yearn to grow, and if Sorcier could speak to her in her language, it would make his heart even more content. So, with a clearing of his throat to subtly suggest that he was to speak again, his voice pooled out like liquid fire. “Ambrosia, are you eloquent in the tongue of Latin? I only ask because I, humbly, am not—and were seeking someone to teach me. I’d be honored to have that knowledge come from none other than you, if permitted.” |
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