Graceful
Florentine’s wings flare as she dips into a jaunty curtsy. “Why thank you,” the girl chirps, a smirk upon her dirty, dusty lips, her flowers in disgruntled disarray.
Maybe, as a girl in possession of the title of Emissary, she should have been embarrassed by such an ungraceful display. As it was, this creature of honey and gold, is too confident for that. She is too at ease with all the ways in which she is ungraceful and lacking. So Flora stands, proudly covered in dirt, proudly bearing her grazed knees and ruffled feathers.
Amethyst eyes glimmer as Only toys with her. He turns them sharp with his wit and how flicker like twilight stars! “I am quite well.” Florentine affirms with a melodious chirp, stepping forward upon her slender legs. “This is not my first foray into the world of grazed knees, you know.”
Twilight eyes peer down to inspect her forelimbs, extending one and then the other, both for his viewing and her own. “Only,” She sighs softly, whimsically, before continuing more firmly. “If I did not have grazed knees from some moment of frivolity, then I am most definitely doing something wrong.” For, quite simply, grazed knees where a sign of time well spent – did you not know?
The dawn boy leads her on, and obediently the dusk girl falls into step behind him. The brush of grasses across her bruised, red knees stings like poisoned needles, yet Florentine does not blanch. Rather, a sigh, contented and pleased, rumbles from her chest.
Only carves a way through the thick, thick grasses and golden wings drop to trail like fingertips – much as they had when she first followed him – through the seeded heads of grass.
The pair of gold and ebony are quieter now, spent from their run - from their game. Had Flora known of the darkness – the murderous black - that lingered inside the boy that leads her on, then maybe she would have thought twice before letting her jaw rest upon his quarters...
As it is, she did not.
The rhythmical step of his hind limbs, the sway of his walk matches hers and all at once there is an ease between them, a quiet as he leads her to flowers, to water.
Only commands her twilight eyes to close and obediently they do. Her slender limbs also fall to stillness when he commands it of them. Her lips curl into a smile, a smirk of question and oh what temptation it is to peak, just once! Yet she doesn’t, and she stays, golden lashes shut and long limbs still, even when he steps away from her and the weight of her head is once again hers to bear.
The boy returns to guide her on and she steps to him, keenly, curiously. Caramel lips curl ever more, her head tilting, her ears straining to hear what her eyes cannot tell her. Forward he guides her into wild flora, into a meadow that hums with bees and insects and upon her limbs she feels the brush of the flowers that fragrance the air so delicately. “Oh,” The word floats as it sighs, her voice a thing of wonder as she imagines what colours lie beyond her closed eyes.
Florentine can barely wait for his permission to open her eyes and when he grants it, they fly open to drink in and paint this fragrant piece of Novus anew. “I have not been here before,” She whispers, surprised, delighted.
Flora’s eyes slip over him, the flare of his reveal, the rose he holds with pride shining upon his lips and she laughs at him, for him, for each of them. “I suppose that makes up for my stolen flowers.” She turns her neck from him, her tangles of flowers and golden hair tumbling forwards. “Would you put it in my hair?”
@
★ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs without fear of the future ★
