m o i r a
I was drawn in by short gasps, inhaled at each momentary recovery,
lost finally in the dark caverns of her throat, bruised by the ripple of unseen muscles.
lost finally in the dark caverns of her throat, bruised by the ripple of unseen muscles.
S
tillness permeates and haunts Sloane as it does a dark pegasus that is never far from the phoenix’ mind. The woman of blood and night stares and stares, disapproving, slightly discontent, and ready to turn away in disgust at any given moment - and those unnerving bright eyes ensconced by a black sclera meet her displeased gaze without hesitation, without discrimination, without any expectations. Red crown tilts to the side, black lips tip up at the edges, and a laughing purr hisses in caged mind. Amusement flickers in the roll of her shoulders, the readjusting of feet beneath her, the gentle flick of her tail that resettles once more. “It’s all a matter of perspective - rainbows are a refraction of light and it seems you’ve lacked the truths it exposes. Nevertheless,” the woman shrugs then, settling in for a lecture. Movement in the brush grows louder, ferns part to the pegasus’ left, and from them Neerja comes. Stalking the women that stand before her striped frame, she eyes Sloane with disdain, mild hunger in blue eyes quickly swallowed by boredom and dismissal. Slaone is nothing to the tiger, to Moira’s keeper, to her secret holder.
Woman and beast stand shoulder to shoulder after a moment, and the Emissary purrs, pleased as a cat with a belly full of warm cream, “Who ever said I was alone?” Gold turns to blue, clashes and lashes and falls into those depths. There, love is echoed back - or whatever semblance of it a bonded feels. Perhaps it is something deeper, something truer, or something else entirely.
“Every now and again,” Moira says softly, “we all could use a hand. You are so resistant, nevermind then. Neerja is hungry and I won’t let you be the main course. Here I’ll take my leave and let you be with your secrets. Good-day and good hunting, whatever it is you seek.” Black lips tip up again, as though she knows something more than she lets on, and in a whisper of wings and swaying leaves the duo moves into the jungles from whence they wandered in through.
@Sloane | "speaks" | notes: taking our leave, thank you for threading with me !
