Björn where innocence is burned in flames
Jungle life is different than tundra life. Here the grass grows abundantly, the land teems with life, and the sunlight is warm against your skin, it is nothing like that of Tinuvel nor the Norðurland. If you are to survive in the Norðurland where it is frigid cold, you have to be hard, and just as cold as the blistering winter's gusting winds. The weak did not survive, they were a nuisance and an inconvenience.
Björn's glacial eyes settle on Tigerlilly as her face is filled with light and wonder as she steps through the hanging vines. He didn't say a word as she takes it all in. He wants her to just enjoy the beauty of the roaring falls, the mossy rocks and the light green filtering sun as it wraps her in its embrace.
A soft smile touches his lips as she drops her delicate muzzle to the gurgling waters at her hooves. "The waters are sweet to the tongue," he says with a nod. His ears swivel erectly within his shaggy unkempt ebony mane. She hesitates for a moment before she begins to speak of her brothers, as if it were painful for her. She is haunted by memories, just as he is, it as if the very weight of the world is falling across her delicate shoulders with each word that hangs on her lips. He listens intently, as she stumbles through the emotions, through the pain.
His ears perk, as she mentions her mother's friend, and that at-least she had not been alone. "It makes me happy that you were not alone this whole time," he says with a soft smile on his whiskered lips. She can not hold his gaze after she mentions her mother's friend, and he feels a sharp stab of fear in his stomach. He could not shake the feeling that she was hiding something from him, out of fear? Or out of shame? Or maybe it is a bit of both?
As she nears him, he can not resist but to lean into her as she settles down next to him. He can not bear for her to take on all of these troubles alone. For a brief moment her words wash away the fear, and it is replaced with a seed of hope. A seed that would need to nurtured and cared for if it was ever to grow into anything more. "I don't want you to be angry," he says breathlessly before continuing just above a whisper. "You deserve so much, my Tígrisdýr, you deserve to be happy and to leave your pains in the past," his voice thick with accent as he speaks.
Her apology leaves her lips. "You have nothing to appologize for, I asked about you," he breathes as he presses his whiskered lips into the soft honey colored skin of her nape. He can feel her strong emotion, the passion that vibrates her soft skin. You mean so much to me. Her words shock him, and excite him all in the same breath. He can only think to answer her with the soft words his father had told his mother. "Þú ert ljómandi stjarna svarta nóttin mín," he whispers into her flowing tresses. For a brief moment there is only their breathing, and the soft trickle of the bubbling stream over mossy rocks. His heart thunders against his ribs as she wraps her neck around him, and pulls him in closer.
The silence is only a moment, before she speaks, her words shaky with emotion and a deeper meaning. It was as if he can feel the turmoil war beneath her honey and white splashed skin. Her voice is louder, stronger this time when the words leave her lips. I want to be with you always. Björn can not help but feel fear rise in his chest. What if she finds out who he is? Or what he has done? Will she leave? Even though in this moment she wants to be here, with him. She draws away from him, he stands shocked as she places her lips against the scars that mar his muzzle. His heart thunders in his chest, threatening leap from his very chest into his throat. She was ready to leave all that there had been behind and to heal. "That is all I want for you, my Tígrisdýr," he whispers, his words filling the still air.
Translation:
Þú ert ljómandi stjarna svarta nóttin mín.: You are the brilliant stars to my black night.
Icelandic mutt - Grullo Sabino - Stallion - 14.3 hh - Dögun x Freya
Bera Konung of the Ridge
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