Björn where innocence is burned in flames
A smile traces his pink lips as they begin their journey to the Ridge, she had chosen to come home with him. He could feel the thrum of his excited heart. She sticks close to him, as he leads her through the inky dark night. The sound of their hooves is muffled by the water logged grass beneath them. Soundless they slip by slumbering islanders, who had sought out the protection of the trees along the meadow.
He glances over at at his tígrisdýr her hair falls in ebony layers to caress her shoulders, her eyes gleam with excitement. He brushes her softly with his muzzle, and than steps into the bubbling surf. The sea gladly swallows the pair as the start their swim to Atlantis. The waters begin to warm slightly as Atlantis begins to take shape before the travelers. He steps up the beach, the surf froths at his legs. He glances over, a smile upon his pink lips. His gaze is met by hers, but he can see that she is physically and emotionally weary. She quietly whispers about needing rest, and affectionately bumps her with his muzzle. "Please do, I will be right here," he whispers.
As she sleeps, her breath is soft agains the quiet murmur of the insects and birds just within the jungle. Björn protectively stands near her, his thick ears listening for anything or anyone who may come upon them. He rests a hind leg, and finds his glacial eyes watching the starlit heavens. Every few minutes his gaze wanders back to her, she seems so peaceful, not like how she had just been only a few short hours ago.
A brilliant sunrise begins to unfold before his eyes, the sun paints the sky in blushing pinks, bright oranges, and brilliant yellows. He would never grow tired of the sun rises here on Atlantis. She stirs and he swivels his thick head to meet her cerulean gaze, she gently brushes him with her muzzle. A tingle shoots down his spine at her featherlight touch, his heart thrums faster.
His heart leaps as she says our home. He had never knew that he could yearn for those words to be said. "Yes," he breathes. He watches her look upon the Ridge, pride swells within his chest. "It is not the Inlet, nor my ancestral home, but it is beautiful nonetheless." he says simply. "And ours." he says with a smile as he bumps her softly. He does not know the troubles that may follow him, and in those moment he does not care.
tígrisdýr: tigerlilly
Icelandic mutt - Grullo Sabino - Stallion - 14.3 hh - Dögun x Freya
King of the Ridge
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