f l o r e n t i n e
The swamp does not stop to watch the recumbent boy. After the murky waters settle, their startled babbling receding, the forest resumes its bird chattering, insect buzzing and idle water lapping. Business resumes as usual, the spectacle now seemingly over. For them, maybe, yet the girl of honey and wild lavender is still really quite entertained by the whole event.
There are many thoughts and memories that race through the boy’s mind. Florentine sees their ghosts within his too-wide eyes and feels the wall they build between the compatriots; one that Flora is not sure she could overcome.
The soft skin and sweet taste is delectable upon her tongue as Florentine takes another bite of the fallen fruit. In silence she eats on, considering the boy with an amiable manner. Since the meeting had come to an end, she had all evening to spend with him and the more his eyes cried out in silence, the longer she wished to stay with him… To hear the words his eyes don’t speak.
She is just about to fold her limbs and lower herself to the sodden earth beside the boy - since he shows no sign of his shock receding or any plans to right himself - when suddenly his body convulses.
Florentine springs away from him like a gazelle startled from the water’s edge by a breaching crocodile. “Steady,” the dusk girl murmurs, her amethyst eyes as wide as the moon that begins to rise. She had dodged his flailing feet enough today…
Auru rises, most inelegantly it has to be said, but the girl of wild honey steps back to graciously allow him a little more space – and of course, to further avoid his wayward limbs.
His cry captures her attention, ears twisting forward as her eyes narrow to take in the curve of his shoulder and the red that seeps sullenly from an angry graze. The boy stands before her is as stiff as bark, as unbreakable as steel – or so he tries to convince himself, much to Flora’s confusion.
Her eyes fall to the lip he worries between his teeth and her smile returns – not that it ever really left – warm and surprised. “You are quite cute. If a little smelly.” She says as she catches a distinctly swampy waft of air and leans closer to affirm it was indeed him.
The smell stalks her as she steps back, just as strong, just as pungent. Her eyes fall to the damp splatter of algae and mud that covers her limbs and chest and she nods to herself, “Gosh, it seems we’re both quite smelly.”
Today was definitely a dirty day.
Her mouth opens to impart more words, but suddenly he is speaking and he sounds nothing like she expected him to. Shock has her hear lifting and her eyes flitting between his stuttering lips and his wide, wide eyes. She was quite unsure exactly how she expected him to sound, but this wasn’t it.
“Which part did you not hear?” She asks him quite amiably. “I have said quite a lot. It’s a consequence of not saying anything to me. I hear silence and I have to fill it. Its an unconscious compulsion.” Or so she had been told. Florentine pauses for a moment, her head tilting as she takes in the bird boy and his fluttering heart.
“I had been offering you fruit…” She raises the piece in question, extending it to him. “Little bit of sugar? Makes you feel better?
“Or did you miss everything I said? In which case, let’s just start from the beginning. I am Florentine.” She offers a dip of her head, slow, careful, as the poor boy looked for all the world like he might flee at any moment.
She lets another pause pass between them, and anxiously, in case he loses the ability to use his tongue again, she leans in close and whispers, “Now’s the time to give me your name.”
@Auru Excuse Miss Motormouth. <3
this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
There are many thoughts and memories that race through the boy’s mind. Florentine sees their ghosts within his too-wide eyes and feels the wall they build between the compatriots; one that Flora is not sure she could overcome.
The soft skin and sweet taste is delectable upon her tongue as Florentine takes another bite of the fallen fruit. In silence she eats on, considering the boy with an amiable manner. Since the meeting had come to an end, she had all evening to spend with him and the more his eyes cried out in silence, the longer she wished to stay with him… To hear the words his eyes don’t speak.
She is just about to fold her limbs and lower herself to the sodden earth beside the boy - since he shows no sign of his shock receding or any plans to right himself - when suddenly his body convulses.
Florentine springs away from him like a gazelle startled from the water’s edge by a breaching crocodile. “Steady,” the dusk girl murmurs, her amethyst eyes as wide as the moon that begins to rise. She had dodged his flailing feet enough today…
Auru rises, most inelegantly it has to be said, but the girl of wild honey steps back to graciously allow him a little more space – and of course, to further avoid his wayward limbs.
His cry captures her attention, ears twisting forward as her eyes narrow to take in the curve of his shoulder and the red that seeps sullenly from an angry graze. The boy stands before her is as stiff as bark, as unbreakable as steel – or so he tries to convince himself, much to Flora’s confusion.
Her eyes fall to the lip he worries between his teeth and her smile returns – not that it ever really left – warm and surprised. “You are quite cute. If a little smelly.” She says as she catches a distinctly swampy waft of air and leans closer to affirm it was indeed him.
The smell stalks her as she steps back, just as strong, just as pungent. Her eyes fall to the damp splatter of algae and mud that covers her limbs and chest and she nods to herself, “Gosh, it seems we’re both quite smelly.”
Today was definitely a dirty day.
Her mouth opens to impart more words, but suddenly he is speaking and he sounds nothing like she expected him to. Shock has her hear lifting and her eyes flitting between his stuttering lips and his wide, wide eyes. She was quite unsure exactly how she expected him to sound, but this wasn’t it.
“Which part did you not hear?” She asks him quite amiably. “I have said quite a lot. It’s a consequence of not saying anything to me. I hear silence and I have to fill it. Its an unconscious compulsion.” Or so she had been told. Florentine pauses for a moment, her head tilting as she takes in the bird boy and his fluttering heart.
“I had been offering you fruit…” She raises the piece in question, extending it to him. “Little bit of sugar? Makes you feel better?
“Or did you miss everything I said? In which case, let’s just start from the beginning. I am Florentine.” She offers a dip of her head, slow, careful, as the poor boy looked for all the world like he might flee at any moment.
She lets another pause pass between them, and anxiously, in case he loses the ability to use his tongue again, she leans in close and whispers, “Now’s the time to give me your name.”
@Auru Excuse Miss Motormouth. <3
★ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs without fear of the future ★
