[P] WE SUCK YOUNG BLOOD

[Bexley]

" BEXLEY BRIAR "

The oasis offers her little solace, but at this point Bexley will take what she can get. With delicate movement she slips into the water, one limb at a time, and freezes against the chill of the pond before she can relax into it - the gash on her shoulder stings with a sharp, insistent pain, but it’s gone before Bexley even lets go of the breath she’s been holding. That dumb-fuck Teryr, throwing her around like a rag doll. The right side of her body is sore to the touch and, where it can be seen through that insistent golden skin, a gauzy, gory blackish-purple. She thinks of herself as a sunset in its last swatches. A peach gone too ripe. Bexley would appreciate the aesthetic if it didn’t hurt so damn much.

Summer is in full swing, meaning that in conjunction with her hunt injuries, Bexley is sweating, sleeping, cursing the days away. She loves the heat and the sunlight, but only to a point - that point has been reached. Those usually perfect curls have gone frizzy in the heat, indigo eyes glassy with a dog-days morbidity. After days of throwing herself directly into Solis’ reach, her skin is too fragile now for anything but lazing in the shade or deep in water, which is why she finds herself in the Oasis yet again, comforted by the chill on her sore muscles, the tranquility of this corner of Solterra, the whispering of date palms and a hot breeze the only noises, no company to disturb her.

Of course it doesn’t last long, and when Bexley realizes who’s interrupted to her, she grits her teeth in order to hold back a long groan, eyes fluttering shut as she attempts to keep her expression calm. Avdotya, she manages with a surprising amount of civility, if not any affection to match it. Long time, no see. One azure eye cracks open to focus on the shape coming toward her. That dark swash of lashes flutter, almost uncertainly, but she leaves it to the warrior to make the next move.

@avdotya grumpy kid lol

love, space