a thousand times I tempted fate;
Everything she said. Everything. Once upon a time he wanted that, though he assumes his way is nothing compared to hers. He wanted death, flesh, and bones. To have his name feared - forever immortalized from the mouths of the weak and ill content. Back home it was either that or die and he was not yet ready to become one with the earth and sing along side the stars. Everything. Her voice is like an echo in his head, bouncing along the walls as if taunting and teasing him. For what did he want now? For a moment he envies her, this silver lady of the river. She knows what she wants and here he stands beside her so clueless in this new life. For what could he even have here? Scarred and broken. Self abused from his old life that has left him alone, unknowing even who he was. Orra would not be pleased at this revelation, for he can almost hear her weep along side the storm. As a crack of lightning splits the sky. Everything..
The pain in his chest is quick and sharp. As if a low blow after those condemning thoughts. It is only at her touch does he register that she had made contact with him, first shocked then surprisingly pleased. For it had been so long since he had been touched without a violent purpose. As she moves before him he cannot resist the quick brush of his nose along her fur as his tail begins to sway. Then she is on the shore, silently asking him to follow. He hesitates for a moment, just one split second as he watches her relish the rain upon her face and then he is there, their warmth colliding despite the fact they do not touch. He whispers to her, tells her that she holds far greater power than the river. For he follows without lead, he follows by choice; that is a power all it's own. For once he is not nervous, nor shy. He is Jericho. A perfect balance of good and bad as his head tilts and eyes close, as the rain washes away all his doubt of before.
The storm is wild, thunder and lightning clash in the sky as they seem to fight over who ruled the dark sky. The rain is like a flood pouring from the clouds as they seem caught in between the battle above and although he acknowledges everything around him. He just feels. Feels the way the water runs down his face and along the white of his neck. His coat is saturated, adding extra weight to his body as his paws seem to sink slightly further into the soft wet soil. As he feels the world around him, he also feels the shift in warmth. No longer is she before him but beside him. Shoulder to shoulder. Lazily does he peek from the corner of his eye as he watches her, as she once again tilts her head back as she enjoys this moment with him and perhaps it is that that gives him a push, a brave nudge to ask the question that seems to lay on his tongue as he leans slightly towards her. So close that the tips of their hairs connect yet no true contact is made. "Daenerys.." He pauses, swallowing as he stands so still. "Can we be friends?.." He whispers heavily, not even sure she will hear him in the storm but content that he has voiced his question whether or not it will answered is not the purpose. This is what he wants, his everything so to speak. To care for another, no matter how new he is at this. He just wants to feel.
For a moment there is a peace he has never obtained settling through his core. Like an uplifting light that shines and guides you in the dark, that is until a massive burst of light blinds the sky and a ungodly roar of thunder follows, so close he can feel the aftermath beneath his feet. Instincts kick in as he steps back and lowers his head, placing himself before her as he moves - chest to chest, pushing slightly against her as if to get her attention should she still be lost in the sky. "We must move, it is not safe." His head is at her neck tilted in so that she may hear his words over the storm. His scars so close, you can see the jagged remains of where flesh was torn and savaged. As orange eyes seem bright in the flash of light above. For this is what friend did, right? They protected and saved. She may have not heard him before but to him he does not need that answer. His once shy nature washed away by the fear of harm, as he looks for those warm eyes to find his orange ones. Waiting, so that they could move towards a safer location, or at least guide her should she choose to part ways. As a warm brush of air is exhaled against her neck, so close he can feel the hairs ruffle. Any other time he would be terrified at this but now was not the time for his insecurities. That will come later.
Jericho. six - no mate - no imprint - nowhere |