IP: 58.6.46.122
Posted on January 21, 2016 at 10:39:27 PM by Solaris
 Her movements have forever been… tenuous, in a fashion, and as such the manner in which she pulls back from myself at our initial touch is met with little surprise, my tail waving a moment as her courage returns and she offers much the same gesture to myself in this single moment of expressed affection- one rare for the both of us, for truly neither of us, I think, are given to great shows of the more delicate emotions- not even with each other. Perhaps something to be worked on, though I believe we are both content in ourselves. After all, we have lived as mates for many years, become accustomed to one another, our words this day has merely made it a thing more official perhaps, more recognisable if only for the manner in which it has been spoken allowed. Next winter, I think, we will make it even more so- for is that not the done thing? Perhaps I shall find some joy in finally appeasing my Mother’s desire for grandchildren outside of Achilles. Yet such things for now are not best thought of, family matters are a displeasure to me at the best of times and in these moments my attention returns swiftly to Siren. Her eyes flicker, roll, finding my own again and indeed it is in these moments that I wonder, truly, of what battles occur in the mind of my mate that I simply do not hear. We are all in possession of thoughts of the past and whisper of the future, of that I am sure, though Siren seems far more inclined to such voices then others. Blood? My head is given to tilt slightly, red rimmed eyes of opalescent blue focusing upon her own. Blood of what? Whatever words I had considered speaking died upon my lips as her voice became louder and her head struck suddenly downward to seize her own leg between her teeth. “Siren!” It was mere surprise perhaps, that forced the words from my lips, eyes widening in this moment as it was so she moved to offer her limb towards me, as if she might desire I examine her self-inflicted wound. I do not know much of wounds, truly, that it does not seem so very bad as to warrant a healer- though my gaze looks upon her with question still, my gaze finding her own once more as I looked away from her limb. “It does not look so bad, perhaps-“ Once more I found my words halted as she continued to speak of this….blood she so seemed to desire, my features frowned in contemplation of the words she offered, my gaze flicking from her own to her bloodied limb and back once more. Take her blood? Is this the way of Demons? I am perhaps beginning to understand in this moment why it is so that many of Demon kind are given to hold a less then….favourable name. Perhaps too there are many customs within the Angelic culture given to hold question, though to knowledge my own there are none that involve the sharing of blood or the harming of oneself. Surely this is not as all Demons do? For I hold no desire to taint my tongue with her blood. I have tasted the blood of a wolf only once and I hold no desire to do so again, though in this moment she seems so determined, her gaze finding my own with a near fevered hope that I might accept this…..offering, though indeed some part within myself turns at the thought. Her tail waves, her form held forward in a delight rare for even her as the confusion lingers still upon my features as she speaks of words she does not know. If this was to be her…custom then surely it may be so I can accept it- for her. If it should please her so. I do not think I have the…..heart to refuse her even if such a ritual is baffling to my mind and displeasing at best. If it should appease her then I suppose I am willing. My own far larger form is given to near bow to reach for her left limb, allowing my jaws to part and tongue to sweep twice, three times, across her limb, cleaning the blood away from her wound in the very least though the taste of it is a hot metallic that disagrees with my tongue, though I am careful to show no sign of this lest it upset her, head nodded in satisfaction of my work though her gaze continues to rest expectantly upon myself, evidently seeking a return of this bizarre gesture. It takes but a moment to part my own jaws once more, puncturing through the thick white of the fur upon my right foreleg to allow droplets of blood to well to the surface in a wound less….flamboyant then Siren’s own and yet offering her blood still as the wound burned in a way I disliked upon my flesh. “Here.” I simply moved to extend my right let toward her now, assured this is what she had desired though I understood so little of it and hoped truly that this should be the one and only ritual to which she desired we partake that involved blood of any kind, my lips forming a smile all the same. If it pleased her to do this then it would please me in turn to offer it- sort of. She need not know. “Tunc autem verba vetera satis esse, ut non modo dicuntur aliqui tantum refert. Nescio .... omnes consuetudines Angeli etsi i certus sum debemus hunt simul, partito in alios farinam supprema venemur. Venite, et lepus .... inveniemus aliquid tale.” (Then these ancient words shall have to be enough, as long as some are said I should not think it matter so much. I do not know....all the customs of Angels though I am assured we must hunt together, share the meal we hunt. Come, we will find a rabbit or....something like that.) I knew that I had missed some parts of the mating ritual, that surely it was more then this and yet it was mostly correct and surely it would not matter so very much, my gaze still intent upon her, some part of myself……hoping she would not seize onto my leg like deer bone, for I have seen her in her moments of panic. She forgets herself and I should not like my leg to be a causality of her forgetfulness…. Kane x Isola || Mate of Siren || Imprint of Astrid || Peacekeeper of Taviora |
Replies:
- SCREAM FOR ME - By SIREN January 31, 2016 at 01:31:33 AM
{ The Rising Son } - By Solaris February 12, 2016 at 09:17:47 PM
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