Velorca heard the rustle of wings and rolled his eyes at the gentle brown water below him, expecting some Solterran to have followed him. Solterra had always been a dangerous place, with a dangerous government (Zolin's childish face lingered when he closed his weary golden eyes) but now that Rostislav had been released and tensions with Night were rising... it was hard for anyone to leave their golden shores. Even someone as unlikely to leave as Lorca. You look troubled. Now, there had been a lot of new recruits lately but... but that was certainly not a Solterran voice. Velorca raised his handsome head, peering through golden eyes at the porcelain figure above him. A slow smile curled upon his velveteen lips. On the outside, there seemed to be little reaction but... The man was... well, he stopped Velorca's shriveled, unfeeling heart in his chest and then forced it to THUD, as if starting anew. A cool rush ran through his veins, swamping him with a strange nervousness that would not leave no matter where Lorca's golden eyes flicked to. He couldn't help but linger on the pureness of his satin skin, the way it gleamed in the soft light, beckoning his tortured fingers forth with an impossibly strong draw. His hair flowed like ivory silk and it smelled... clean, fresh, pure. Velorca wanted to touch the stranger more than anything he'd wanted since his release. His eyes trickled to the antlers, the flashes of gold that had been placed with the utmost care upon his alabaster skin, and lastly to the draconian wings that flared and relaxed so smoothly. Burnt butter eyes fixed upon lilac. Here was a man that was everything Velorca wasn't. He was so... so white and clean and pure, unstained and unmarred by the world, a beautiful, rare blossom to be found next to the shriveled, charred scratch of Lorca's soul. He yearned to be closer to the stranger, but even more... he was terrified that someone else might choose to mar that beautiful soul, to throw crimson and black upon it, to use and use until it resembled something like him. Yet he did not know the man - despite his bodies insistence that he did, that he always had. "Only by my past" Was his murmured answer, eyes focused upward and completely upon the silver lashed stag above him. He had an almost predatory focus - as if he'd grown from a bitter boy to a grown man in a matter of moments. "And what brings you to Amare Creek? Someone so beautiful surely cannot be looking for romance..." There was none of the usual mockery in his velvet voice, none of the arrogance that usually walked beside him step-for-step, word-for-word. Had anyone in Solterra seen him now, they might not have recognized the well-mannered, sincere man as the whore of the court. Velorca couldn't have cared less in that moment what anybody thought of him, despite his penchant for appearances. He was left standing, wishing for the first time in his life that he could have had wings, if only to share the skies with a soul so pure. @Isorath <3 |
