when i open my eyes
in the morning, i thought of you
i look out the window, i thought of you
The longer they shared space in the cave, the more dangerous this was getting. Making any excuse to touch each other, while trying to keep space. She drastically herself with the weight of her own tail against her hip bone, just as much as she does it to demonstrate where her real balance comes from. She does feel a sensation of butterflies at his casual words . . . His belief that she was a heroine. The hero of the story, not the villain, the predator. The monster. When had she stopped being a predator in his eyes?
As he steps away, she feels as if she can breathe properly again, even as she's acutely aware of missing his presences, his breath wafting across her skin. The sooner they climbed down this mountain the better, the safer it would be. Surely. But she nodsnatnthe idea of testing the weight of the fur, already heading towards the entrance of the cave. Just those slow movements show how much less pain she is in, no longer favoritism the torn up ankle, and she playfully smacks his chest with the long hairs of her tail, "Let's head outside then, I could use some fresh air anyway." Before she really forgets herself and tries to jump him.
The walk to the entrance is noticeably cooler once she's out of the hidden cavern they'd been staying in, and despite the thick, warm fur over her body, the cold clings to her exposed limbs. She distracts to herself with his threat to put her to work, laughing warmly, "If I mess anything up, I plead on behalf of knowing nothing about your version of civilization in these courts." She reminds with a cheeky grin, "Burning questions about Denocte?" She echoes, standing at the front of the cave, the cold winter wind tugging at her mane and tail, pulling wayward curls loose from the bindings she has them in, "What are the people like?" Her expression shifts, quiet, and she kicks at the ground with a forelimb, "I hear they see themselves as the 'misfits' of Novus . . . " She adds, a little hopeful that maybe in a tribe of misfits, she might find a place to belong.
The ease in which they enjoyed each other’s company should have been criminal. The playfulness, the flirtation thinly veiled under pleasantries. The warrior had the right idea about fresh air. Perhaps the chill of the blizzard would do them some good. Though the flurries had long since come to a halt, the winter was here to stay, and hopefully it would help to cool some of their hormonal tempers.
Gareth was more suited to the harsh conditions the Arma had to offer, his draft muscle and thick feathering no stranger to the abundant snowfall. His pelt rippled as a shiver ran through him, the cold a stark contrast to the warmth they had built for themselves within the cave. The stallion knew that if he felt it, Pangaea would too. He watched her body language to gauge just how effective the bear skin would be at helping her retain heat. She tried to hide it, but it was clear to him that she might need another layer to make the descent comfortable. The bear skin may have been fine for just this short jaunt, but the long trek down the mountain would prove to be more difficult and uncomfortable without additional padding.
The saurian woman suddenly turned sheepish, pushing about a patch of snow that had made its way inside the mouth of the cave with an almost childish hesitancy as she asked about the denizens of the Night Court.
“Well, yes,” Gareth said, staring out at the white blanket of the mountainside, keenly aware of the way her mane floated about her features as the wind blew past. “We are said to be the children of Caligo, who herself was othered by her family.” He recounted the stories he had learned of the deity, sensing that the mare at his side might find a particular comfort in the knowledge that her own struggles were not so foreign as they might seem.
“She was the last of her siblings, half mortal. As I understand it, Tempus created Dawn, Day, and Dusk in the forms of Oriens, Solis and Vespera respectively. When he realized there was none who could govern the passage of Night, he sought to rectify that. By this time, his children had become more than just stewards of their respective duties to time, but entrenched in them, molded by them, woven into the very fabric of their beings. They thought that their new sister would become twisted by her calling to oversee darkness, not seeing her for the essential part of life that she was. This eventually culminated in a cataclysmic event, a hundred of years of darkness in retaliation for the abuse she had suffered from their misunderstanding of her place within the universe. They did not see her grace, or her strength, her importance to the balance of all things. It is said that this conflict is what drove the separation of Novus into the Courts we know today.”
The stallion turned warm amber hues to the cream coloured dame, his gaze lingering on her features for a moment before he continued. “The denizens of the Night Court are often looked upon by others in a similar way. People have a way of fearing that which they do not understand, that which is not like them.”
He shook his head. “Foolish, I think, when it comes to your brethren. The souls that call Denocte home are vibrant creatures. Artists, healers, scholars, as varied as any of the other courts in their personalities, their dealings, their beliefs. But being born into a world that sees you from birth as something to be feared, distrusted, othered… it breeds a carefulness that only further fuels people’s false judgements.
“In truth, we love as deeply as anyone can love, perhaps more so, in a sense. We embrace those things which others may see as ‘distasteful’ or ‘strange’ or otherwise unwanted. We acknowledge the beauty in places where other folk may only see darkness.” He paused, watching a distant bush rustle before a small bird burst forth from the brambles towards the sky.
“There’s a kinship between people who feel discarded by the world; a great power to be found in a shared experience. I have never met anyone so loyal to their chosen family, more compassionate, more full of life, than those who live within the Night Court’s borders.”
The desire to reach out to the mare was strong, and Gareth didn’t deny himself the pleasure, wishing to quell any further fears she may have had as he whispered against her cheek. “Should you choose to stay, you would find yourself welcomed with open arms and a place to call home unlike any other in all of Novus.”
