Anandi tilts her head to watch the expressions on her companion’s features. She’s never seen anyone so at war with themselves and she– she pities this woman, even without knowing her story. Even without knowing her name.
“Maybe,” the sound rings like the first raindrop on still water. And then–
Anandi almost draws away when the other woman is moving forward, when the other woman is prowling with a determined, catlike tension in her jaw. Anandi almost draws away but instead she stands firm and looks into those brightly burning eyes as they come closer, closer, closer. And then her breath is all over her, and it’s so much warmer than she thought it would be, so very alive, and the closeness and the heat, it leaves the kelpie’s every nerve on end.
She finds that she enjoys the way her heart beats furiously in her throat. But before she can explore this feeling more, the woman takes a step back. Anandi inhales sharply, the salt air suddenly too cold in the absence of the other mare’s heat. It takes knuckle-whitening self control not to take a step forward, and then another, and another, until there is only one horse on the beach tonight. She barely has enough patience for this, but she hides it well. The only display of her displeasure is a small, pouting frown that curls at her expressive lips.
When Leto asks if she is here to kill, she does not need to fake her surprise, or exaggerate it. “No,” the word is soft and warm, something you want to sink your teeth into. She swallows to clear the thickness in her throat. “I would never kill something so beautiful…” At least, she would never want to, although to her shame want and need did not always align.
The kelpie smiles, and starlight shyly illuminates the sharp, clean edges of her teeth. “Not unless you wanted me to.”
The fleshy silence between the two mares is full of white noise. To Anandi, the stars and moon are as silent and far away as the bottom of the ocean. All she hears is the sound of home. Waves crash, steady and rhythmic as a pulse, and a briny breeze tugs at mane and forelock. And there is the droning of her animal hunger, her ritual want, a curtain of static that always rises to the foreground when silence falls. Just a touch. Just a taste. Proud girl, why not bow to your nature?
A demure purse of the lips, as a thought rises to the surface of her thoughts. “You know, there are ways to drown without dying…” Anandi steps closer again, and breathes in deeply of raw horseflesh, dried clay, Deeper mysteries. A shiver runs down her spine. Delicious.
She suddenly does not know how she watched this mare from afar for as long as she did. Here, now, her fascination and-- and her want-- is so plain and simple. Easy. It was so much better here with the barest of distances between them.
“Aren’t you afraid of me?” Her voice is whisper-soft and strangely soothing and– and everything about it is at odds. She sounds both pleased and disappointed, proud and embarrassed. That melodic voice swells with every emotion, leaving it up to the listener- Leto- to pick and choose what she wants to hear in it.
a dream strayed into moonlight
@Leto so sorry for the wait! I love them <3
some say the loving and the devouring are all the same thing
☾
