we know one of us is going down
well, i say, let's do this anyway
on the hunting grounds
well, i say, let's do this anyway
on the hunting grounds
For a moment, Al'Zahra's words sting when she says she wouldn't save her. It says a lot about her, but also, maybe that would be for the best. If Morrighan went as far as to practically drown herself, she would rather be left to do so. She'd have to be at a real low point in her life to make that decision and she wouldn't want anyone stopping her. For now at least, she's not anywhere close to that point.
Even when the distance closes between them and everything in her says to run, she stays. There is a push and pull feeling, but there is a warmth that keeps her here (or is it something more?).
It becomes more when she feels the mare's touch again. She flinches involuntarily, but still stays. There is a desire for more and maybe even more than that. As her heart begins to beat against her chest, it's like a bird trying to escape. Al'Zahra's touch moves further along her back and Morrighan feels like her legs might give out.
"It's not magic," she says, but it's something. She had been so entranced that she didn't even realize that Bram had left. There was a brief time long ago that she thought she had felt what could be called love, but it hadn't amounted to anything. Now that she's here, she isn't sure if it was because of her fear of vulnerability or if the man had just been an idiot.
But at this moment, all that matters is what she feels now and how much she craves more of the woman's touch after she pulls away. Somehow, Morr steps forward, the warmth of their bodies mingling again and chasing away the cold winter air. This time, her mouth traces imaginary lines in the woman's neck. Her mind screams at her, but she ignores it so she can savor every moment here.
"I want to know you, 'Zahra," she whispers into the mare's ear. It's a confession, maybe even a plea. If anything, it's a sign that Morr is finally letting the walls down that she's spent nearly decades putting up. "Who are you, really?" Maybe it's stupid, but she doesn't care. She wants to know who the woman truly is and what her soul looks like. If she peeled away the layers, would it show a darkness like her own? Perhaps she's being too hopeful in thinking there's a chance that there could be.
A fire ignites at her feet and starts to surround them, feeding off Morr's deeper emotions. It closes in on them, almost close enough to consume them both. Maybe she'll let it.
It would be worth it.
“Speaking.”
Even when the distance closes between them and everything in her says to run, she stays. There is a push and pull feeling, but there is a warmth that keeps her here (or is it something more?).
It becomes more when she feels the mare's touch again. She flinches involuntarily, but still stays. There is a desire for more and maybe even more than that. As her heart begins to beat against her chest, it's like a bird trying to escape. Al'Zahra's touch moves further along her back and Morrighan feels like her legs might give out.
"It's not magic," she says, but it's something. She had been so entranced that she didn't even realize that Bram had left. There was a brief time long ago that she thought she had felt what could be called love, but it hadn't amounted to anything. Now that she's here, she isn't sure if it was because of her fear of vulnerability or if the man had just been an idiot.
But at this moment, all that matters is what she feels now and how much she craves more of the woman's touch after she pulls away. Somehow, Morr steps forward, the warmth of their bodies mingling again and chasing away the cold winter air. This time, her mouth traces imaginary lines in the woman's neck. Her mind screams at her, but she ignores it so she can savor every moment here.
"I want to know you, 'Zahra," she whispers into the mare's ear. It's a confession, maybe even a plea. If anything, it's a sign that Morr is finally letting the walls down that she's spent nearly decades putting up. "Who are you, really?" Maybe it's stupid, but she doesn't care. She wants to know who the woman truly is and what her soul looks like. If she peeled away the layers, would it show a darkness like her own? Perhaps she's being too hopeful in thinking there's a chance that there could be.
A fire ignites at her feet and starts to surround them, feeding off Morr's deeper emotions. It closes in on them, almost close enough to consume them both. Maybe she'll let it.
It would be worth it.
