P a n g a e a
i wish it was cooling me, but so far, has not been good
it's been shitty and i feel awkward, as i should
The morning broke through her dreary state as the mare blinked open her eyes from where she and Gareth had stopped after they had set out late yesterday to journey back to Denocte. The warmth against her back and the soft, but steady movement against her side was all she needed to know that Gareth was still asleep as she lifted her head slowly, and nuzzled his cheek in a gentle greeting, being careful to not wake him up. A slight yawn was pulled from her as she blinks her gaze a little more, before lowering her head back down, using her long, bundled mane as a pillow to rest her cheek against - only for her muzzle to twist that the scent of smoke and wood trapped in those locks, making her sniff and sneeze after a moment.
Her gaze cut to the locks with a slightly narrowed expression as she lifts her head to actually take a moment to peer at the locks bound carefully by amber bands - the metal gleaming, gems sparkling, but the hair itself showed signs of being well over due for a restyling. Her quick gaze over her tail as she whipped it towards her side proved that. How convenient, for her, they had chosen to rest at Rapax River, soothed to sleep last night by their joined body heat, and the river rushing nearby. She carefully shifts, pulling away from Gareth, her motions smooth but careful to attempt to keep from waking him up, her tail carefully guiding his body into a restful position when she had to sneak out from his embrace.
Once free, she had to shake off the lingering cold from being removed from his side, but she eagerly made her way towards the river. Her tail would be dealt with first, it was always easier to unbind. A couple of careful prodding, after wetting her hair was usually all she needed to do, to properly unveil the very small latch, that would allow the bands to unsnap from her tail, Setting the gold and amber bands aside to replace later, she carefully unwound the long curls, the pale cream and ivory reptilian tail exposing as the long hair that grew from the underside and tip of the tail unwound and was soon trailing into the water, the length startling her for a moment. It's easy to forget how long her hair is thanks to how she binds it up, but it never failed to amaze her. Next however came the actual mane, and that was always more difficult.
She whisks her tail, sending those creamy strands away from her body as she prods and pokes to find the hinges on those bands, and soon they join the others, the long, wild mass of curls unwinding from the tight coils that help pull it up and out of the way, and soon her mane joins her tail in painting the water. It's at this point she happily lays down in the shallows, just letting her hair soak, watching the river run slightly dirty as it pulls the smoke and ash from not only her mane and tail, but her body as well. It doesn't take long for most of the muck to be removed from her body, and for much of the trapped foilage and grime in her long mane and tail to be loosened enough for her to begin to tackle the actual act of washing her hair.
But it's also the more difficult part, as those wild curls obscure her vision while she's trying to sort through the curls, removing twigs and leaves as she finds them, trying to keep the areas she's cleaned separated from the strands she hasn't touched yet. A gruff snort leaves her muzzle as she tries to toss her mane and forelock from her face, annoyance visible as she once more tries to sort through the mass of curls, only to become trapped in the curls, ears flicking back as she lifts her head, strands twisting around her muzzle even as she shakes her head to dislodge the most of them.
A hint of a sound catches her attention and she breaths a sigh of relief, "Gareth!" His name is a please, a huff of desperation, "Help, please!" She begs, as she finishes untangling the few strands for her muzzle, to be able to properly look up, amber eyes searching for her stallion, her expression borderline desperate, looking more like a wet, fluffy dog than a dangerous mare as the curls seem to just tangle around her, "I just wanted to wash my hair so it would stop smelling like smoke!" She explained in a whine, "But it just keeps tangling and obscuring my vision. Will you help me?"
since i thought you and me
i am imagining, a dark lit place, or your place or my place
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Gareth
Notes: She's like 'nothing weird here. I'm not about to cry out of frustration. But . . . HELP ME.'
well i'm not paralyzed, but i seem to be struck by you
i want to make you move, because you're standing still
if your body matches what your eyes can do
you'll probably move right through, me on my way to you.
