veer
It will stop your breath, how cruel I can be.
But you understand, don’t you?
But you understand, don’t you?
P
erhaps if he were another male he would have been caught like a fly in honey by the silken caress of her ribbons. Maybe then Veer would have smiled like a lamb and followed the siren call of her and dove headfirst into the red hot sea of her. If he were another sort of stallion he would have smiled and laughed as he drowned. But Veer is not a fly or a thing to be trapped in waves of sensuous appeal. Veer is bottomless pit of need and want, rage and hunger. When he ruffles his feathers he's suddenly not dipped in gold but black. He could be the night for how dark he seems when he looks at her with both pity and desire flashing in molten sparks across his gaze. “Spoken like a true creature of the earth.” Veer sounds like a universe when he taunts her, all cold winter wind and salted storm seas.
This time when he closes the distance between them it's into the press of her blue ribbons. They dance around him like a thin silken webs and he laughs as they tangle and tease at his legs. He wonders if she fancies herself a spider, a siren or a snake. There is nothing shy about him, nothing coy. Veer is only boldness, only sin.
“Shall I bury you in it then?” He's a threat too, and his wing arc above them like a church steeple. “Will it comfort you to feel dirt beneath your teeth instead of air?” Perhaps it's a blessing that she moves away then, trailing rose-petals like tears.
Veer almost wanted to strike then, although he still hasn't decided if we wants to corrupt her love her.
For now, though, he follows her like a wolf stalks a lamb. The art around them in nothing to Veer, nothing more than pillars of wealth in the darkness that he knows will return home with him. Each twist of gold, each glimmer of glass, each sheen of moonlight on silver, belongs to him. Foolish Denocte, tearing down a gate and welcoming all the beasts in to drink from pools of wine and sin.
They should have known the monsters would come. The monsters always come.
It's not until she stops that Veer ceases sharing with Najjad the list of all the things the belong to him now. When he turns to watch his little siren and the art she has found Veer smiles wickedly and adds in that silent chord between stallion and gryphon, one more thing, Najjad. This is too is ours. The gryphon clacks his beak like the single tick, tick of a metronome as Veer joins her before the golden apple.
“It makes me think of how the world began.” He lifts his wings up to drape across her back. Each of his feathers whispers against another feather, until his wings sound like a siren song of their own, urging the blue ribbons to tangle between them. “But as for feeling--” His words smolder on his lips as he presses them close enough to her ears that he thinks it might be fun to grab one between his teeth and pull.
“That I would have to show you.” He says, and never has he felt more like a god than he does tonight.
@Euryale | "speaks" | notes: <3
