~ where innocences burn in flames.
ᛯ ᛯ ᛯ ᛯ
Their angry words still ring inside of his head, the hurt in her eyes still haunts him, and the feeling of her teeth against his skin still lingers. He had never intended for that night to go as it had, he was angry, she was angry and they both just happened to be thrust together. Together they had yelled at each other and unleashed their fury on one another - forgetting that their words have a lasting impact. But today was different, today he will seek her out and they will be able to resolve the anger and hurt that separated them. The two hot-headed fools.
He strides across the hardened sand, the frothing surf to his right and the dense jungle to his left. A few seagulls dot the sky and squawk their protest at having to leave their dinner as the King strides past them. He tosses his crown heaven ward and flicks his forelock from his glacial blue eyes. His hooves toss the sand with each stride and it clings to the feathers of his legs.
A movement draws his attention and his breath stills in his throat as his eyes settle on Nyimara. She pauses just within the froth, her dark russet body a sharp constrast from the turquoise blues of the ocean and the steep cliffs that jut up from the sea. He hesitates for a single step and he can feel his bravery falter. Is he ready to talk about what has happened between them? His heart thunders against his ribs as finally with a jerk of his crown, he moves closer to his Queen.
He steps through the surf, it tugs at his legs and feathers as he settles down near to her. He lets a moment pass and judges her reaction to his close proximity. Finally a sigh falls from his lips as his first words fill the space between them. "Nya," the words are low and barely audible above the dull roar of the waves, "How are you?"
He swivels his crown to look over at her, his glacial eyes travel the weary lines of her face and length of her neck. He notices the tightness of her muscles along her withers and shoulders and wishes to touch her russet skin with his muzzle; in hopes that his touch and words can relieve her of the pain that consumes her.
Björn - Icelandic mutt - 10 years old - Grullo Sabino
Bera Konung of the Ridge