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Novus closed 10/31/2022, after The Gentle Exodus

Private  - Struck by you

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Played by Offline Dyzzie [PM] Posts: 64 — Threads: 7
Signos: 50
Vagabond Tactician
Female [She/Her/Hers/They/Theirs]  |  10 [Year 501 Spring]  |  18.2 hh  |  Hth: 7 — Atk: 13 — Exp: 29  |    Active Magic: N/A  |    Bonded: N/A
#3




P a n g a e a

i hold on so nervously to me and my drink 
i wish it was cooling me, but so far, has not been good
it's been shitty and i feel awkward, as i should

Had the mare been more thoughtful, she'd have left a note for the man. Would have informed him of where she was. Had she been more aware of some of his own inner workings, self-sacrificing ways aside; the very expectation he had she'd wisen up and leave - she'd make sure to remind him that her leaving would always be temporary. But when a lady needs to freshen up - a lady needs to freshen up! And so she'd made her way to the nearby river, and taken part of the monstrosity of unbinding her hair.

She'd be the first to admit that she forgets her own hair length, just as much as she has a tendency to forget the time and work it takes, heavy wet curls clinging to everything, accenting every curve of her shoulder, and neck. Tangling around her muzzle. Tail winding around her limbs, clinging to fur and scale alike as if the water turned the strands into creeping vines. While much of the debris was thankfully free - untangling the individual curls to make sure no remaining larger pieces of filth remained in those creamy locks was the struggle. Even now she'd only managed to begin messing with the forelock around her face. Trying to clear it, trying to control it so that her vision would be less trapped.

She should have started with her tail. Even she knew that was the way it worked. Work with the tail first, so you're not fighting with the mane to clear your vision before you can finally get to work on the rest of things. And she'd foolishly started with those cords of mane that wrapped her muzzle and features in an embrace, shrouding her eyes like a veil, until she was frustrated and wanting to stick her entire head underwater. It is why the sound of her male had her relaxing with relief, soft pleas leaving her muzzle for his assistance in this taxing act.

At the sound of his laughter, she felt a smile pull on her muzzle, that soft rumble, deep and echoing making those butterflies spur to life in her belly. Soft, sweet, delicate. He had a way of making her feel like a woman, not just a sometimes-predatory monster. She struggled through her mane, and further relaxed once she could see him, only to notice his very quick descent into embarrassment, "Now is not the time for faux-modesty, Gareth!" She half whined, her tones colored with the playfulness that had become the natural banter she allowed to flow out with him, "And I'm fairly certain I look more like a wet dog at the moment then some tempting goddess bathing in a creek." She added, finally untangling the rest of the hair and forelock around her face, so they fell in thick, wild, and luscious curls.

The curls tumbled free to frame her jaw, drawn over her brow, sweeping slightly across her gaze - the extra buoyancy from the hair not being pulled tight and controlled giving it more life - more depth. Thicker curls than he usually was able to bury his face into, touch, and nuzzle into. With her face free, she continues to separate out the rest of the curls, pulling random leaves, and twigs that had become trapped in the mass when it had been bundled up as slowly, so slowly, more of her hair was left to spring back in wild, thick curls that coiled up around her neck, the ends still dragging deep into the river to coil around her legs.

"What do you mean how?" She parrots in surprise, looking back up at him, golden eyes gleaming in amusement, "Most of it is done, I'm just trying to untangle it now, separate the curls and make sure there's no leaves or twigs left tangled up in it. Perhaps you can help me with my mane . . . with the way you're acting, I'd be worried letting you at my table would have us making a trek to Amare Creek before the day is through." She teased, eyes dancing with merriment, before she reached out to him, "Come on, doctor, won't you bathe with me?" She offered with a soft, playful purr; this sound warm and delicate - rather than the demanding purr he's heard before when in the heat of the moment.

"Join me, Gareth . . . It'll be a refreshing way to start our journey back home.

Home, who know his home would become an important place for her too.

Home, with Gareth.
 

this club has got to be the most pretentious thing
since i thought you and me
i am imagining, a dark lit place, or your place or my place

"Speech"
Thoughts
@Gareth
Notes: <3 She's being so soft right now. Just like 'yes, come snuggle up and help me untangle my mane.'


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.

Artwork ©Sephinta






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Messages In This Thread
Struck by you - by Pangaea - 02-21-2022, 12:45 AM
RE: Struck by you - by Gareth - 03-06-2022, 12:01 PM
RE: Struck by you - by Pangaea - 03-06-2022, 12:31 PM
RE: Struck by you - by Gareth - 03-07-2022, 09:04 AM
RE: Struck by you - by Pangaea - 03-08-2022, 11:58 AM
RE: Struck by you - by Gareth - 05-01-2022, 10:22 PM
RE: Struck by you - by Pangaea - 06-03-2022, 11:33 AM
RE: Struck by you - by Gareth - 06-03-2022, 03:04 PM
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