[AW] And I stay awhile so she can speak

[Reinhart]

To hold my tongue except when I try to pray...

Night has come and gone as quickly as it arrived. Too quickly for the noble son to feel satisfied. So much of the night has been the same as the past year of his life. The only difference now is the absence that Evander has left him with. It is a space that he is not sure he ever wants to fill. As the streets grow quiet with the approach of day, so does he. Reinhart had made quite the haul and taken it back to his old friends in the streets. He left the gifts strewn across the city like a scavenger hunt with feet shuffling behind him all the while. He had been lucky enough not to catch the notice of the guards who were far too busy with the rest of the bustle and clamor after the meeting. 

A sigh escapes his lips as he lays in the mists of the very early morning light beside the lake where he last saw an old friend known as Raglan. An old crow. that was a lifetime ago it seems. Reinhart can feel the warmth of the memory on his face as his lips curl upward into a gentle smile. His gold swirling eyes peer out at the lake, and the way it reflects the explosions of colour that come from the sun. Reinhart feels his lids grow heavy as he stares out at the quiet lake. It has been a while since he has stopped to rest, and once he returns home he will find even less. So he intends to enjoy at least a few days before they are aware that he has returned to Novus. 

Reinhart begins to drift to sleep in the mist beneath a tree beside the calm lake. The morning will come soon, and the day will follow soon after. The light never bothered him though. He was never really made for the day. Reinhart has always thrived at night.

 

... try to breathe words out, But I’ve got nothing to say

[Fang]

f

ang doesn’t remember the last time he has been able to sleep well—or have any semblance of a normal sleep schedule at all, for that matter.

He was already restless when he was crowned the emperor of Blue Sage Meadows; the responsibilities of his new duties often kept him awake, worrying about his people and the recuperation of their beloved home. And then the Terrors started—first the werewolf attack, a savage monster that ripped through each of them like a sword through cloth (he can still feels its claws slicing between his ribs and straight through his lung, he can still taste the blood that flooded his own body as he choked). Even now, he represses a shiver as the ghosts of old wounds continue to haunt him.

That initial massacre only paved the way for the masses that would follow. Hordes of cruel beasts that would hunt them from the shadows, their blood-curling shrieks echoing through the darkness, heralded by the wails of those unfortunate enough to fall victim to their bloodthirst. He can still hear the cries.

Plagued by nightmares he fears will never cease, it is not unusual to find the red stallion awake at this primordial hour. He soars idly over Denocte’s glassy lake, gliding just high enough to not disturb its polished surface. He breathes in the crisp air, caught in the silence of the world just before dawn, when everything is still, just waiting for the sun to break over the horizon. In a moment like this, it is easy to forget that there is anyone else alive in the world. The last thing Fang expects is for an ashy figure to suddenly materialize from the silvers and blues of the mists, resting unwittingly at the edge of the lake.

And squarely in his path.

“Watch out!”

He quickly tucks his wings in an effort to veer himself away, but it is too late to avoid an accident entirely—Fang is already colliding with the solid shoulder of the stranger. He tumbles to the ground in a graceless heap of long limbs and flapping wings, grunting with the force of air that is propelled from his lungs. “Oh, my goodness—shit—I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Fang is half-wheezing with his apology, which is peppered by a steady stream of murmured “I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry”’s as he works to detangle himself from the poor man he slammed into.

“Dammit. Please forgive my ineptitude, I’m usually not this oblivious,” Fang says once he is finally able to stand again, chuckling humorlessly to himself. Shaking blades of grass from his curls, he turns to the stranger with his brow furrowing in concern. “Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”


tag; @Reinhart
“…”

Courage,

dear heart.

x | x

[Reinhart]

To hold my tongue except when I try to pray...

He is oblivious to the world for a few short moments before a jarring command fills his ears. In a few seconds, his eyes shoot open, and his heart begins to race in response to the abrupt voice. Moments before he had not heard the wings on the wind of the quiet world before daybreak, but he hears them now. Reinhart has little time to react before he sees a large red pegasus barreling toward him from the skies. They collide, and Reinhart finds himself bowled over. His legs swing around until he is laying facing the opposite direction. There is some moderate pain that seeps through his skin, but it will leave no more than a bruise. The clumsiness of the pegasus has him laughing, not at the man's misfortune, but his own. His golden eyes swirl with mirth as he stands back on his tired feet with a smile on his face.

The stranger is quick to hop on his own feet again, and he is profusely apologetic to the night son. Reinhart shakes his head, the curls of his mane falling wildly about his boyish face. "I'm alright, probably more startled than anything. It's not every day you see a large winged man flying directly toward you. At least I was already on the ground... Are you alright?" He asks with his almost trademark charming smile. He can't help but notice the attractive features of the pegasus. Reinhart also notices the weariness they carry in their bones because it looks the same to him.

"It's also not every day that that man also happens to be quite handsome. I don't think I can fault you too much." He jokes carefully, hoping to put the other at ease. Reinhart can't help but flirt, it's in his nature. Even with his heart still raw from his previous whirlwind romance. "I'm Reinhart, landing gear at your service." There is a wide grin on his face now, unconcerned with how absolutely stupid his joke is.
 

@Fang

... try to breathe words out, But I’ve got nothing to say

[Fang]

r

ounded ears are slanted forward and ember eyes are trained intently on the ashy stranger in concern, searching for any sign that he might have injured the other stallion in their collision. There was a time (not too long ago) when Fang had the ability to heal others with magic, and to be guided by the plants themselves in doing so, but those precious gifts have been swallowed in shadows along with the rest of his home. Still, he remembers a few herbal techniques to help soothe minor wounds.

Fortunately, the stranger doesn’t take long to rise steadily to his feet. Seeing this, Fang feels the tightness in his chest loosen with relief, and the dark skin of his nostrils curls with a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Matching the stallion’s charismatic smile with a hollow one of his own (it isn’t as easy as it once was), he nods at the other man’s query. “Startled too,” he chuckles dryly. “I’m just glad I didn’t hurt you. Sorry about that…again,” he tries to hold back a grimace, still embarrassed by his clumsiness, which results in a crooked pinching of his lips that feels awkward and out of place.

Fang’s discomfort morphs when he is suddenly given a compliment, changing from distress and into something more bashful. He can hardly remember the last time someone called him handsome—at least, someone since Bella. There are times when he swears he can see it in Requiem’s eyes, but perhaps it is only wishful thinking. “Oh, it’s been a long time since I’ve heard anything like that,” the boy says with a short laugh and shake of his head.

Blinking the curls from his eyes, Fang appreciates the awful joke that the other man includes with his introduction—it is corny, but amusing nevertheless. There is silent laughter in his eyes as he inclines his head forward. “A pleasure, Reinhart, although I would have liked to meet under different circumstances. My name’s Fang,” his lips twist amiably around the pointed canines of his namesake, though the gesture is a ghost in comparison to the brightness of Reinhart’s grin. Perhaps he will be able to smile like that again, when the beasts no longer plague his dreams and the shadows no longer haunt his memories, but it is a fantasy that seems nearly impossible now.

“I’m new to Denocte—well, new to Novus in general. I’m still getting my bearings,” he offers, maybe by way of explanation. Shifting his weight, the red stallion casts his fiery eyes through the early morning mist before he continues. “I must’ve woken you, I’ll let you get back to your rest,” he adds, assuming that he has already disturbed the other stallion’s morning enough.


tag; @Reinhart  
“…”

Courage,

dear heart.

x | x

[Reinhart]

To hold my tongue except when I try to pray...

He can see the discomfort and embarrassment on the stranger's face. Reinhart listens to the man's admission that he too was startled by the ordeal. His words are followed up with another apology and Reinhart just peers at him with a soft smile on his lips. "You don't have to apologize, now I have quite the story to tell everyone if they ever ask how we know each other." The Denocte native shrugs as his rusty silver tongue begins to make an appearance.  Reinhart's golden eyes are locked on the red man with fangs protruding from his mouth. It seems that his compliment has taken the stranger by surprise. Not nearly as surprising as the collision, but there is something almost bittersweet to his expression. As if his words alone had recovered a long-forgotten memory. The stranger says he hasn't heard a compliment like that in a long time. Reinhart's expression softens with a tilt of his head. The movement causes his wild curls to fall down his nape like a waterfall.

"That's a shame. If it were up to me, you wouldn't remember the last time you went without a compliment like that." He smiles. His words sound like a promise. To Reinhart, they are a promise. Fang introduces himself, reiterating the fact that he wishes they had met under different circumstances. A soft laugh escapes his pink mottled lips as he peers at his companion. "Do you wish that? I don't. I am happy to have met you just like this. No harm done, please don't beat yourself up over this." Reinhart comments to the red pegasus. Fang goes on to explain that he is new to Denocte and Novus in general. He concludes his part of the conversation saying that he will let Reinhart get back to his rest. Another soft laugh escapes from Reinhart. There is an expression on his face of endearment for the man who seems to think he has troubled the world. 

"I was born in Denocte here. I can show you around if you'd like?" He offers with a soft smile on his lips. "Turns out I'm not tired after all, and would much rather spend my time welcoming my new friend to Denocte." He jokes lightly with the red pegasus. Reinhart takes a few steps toward Fang, and then he wastes no time trying to sidle up to him beneath his wing. That is assuming Fang will not reject his very forward style of welcoming others. Reinhart can't help that he's a flirt, but at least it's genuine.

"Come on, handsome. Let's check out the markets." He grins toward Fang with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.
 

@Fang

I loveee fang <3 sorry this took so long

... try to breathe words out, But I’ve got nothing to say

[Fang]

“y

ou’re too kind,” the russet stallion smiles, more to himself than anything, dark lashes fluttering briefly against his cheeks as he casts his gaze down to the grass. He flusters easily, but can’t help but glow from beneath the warmth of Reinhart’s appreciation.

He shuffles his weight without lifting his hooves, rounded ears perking forward before his ember eyes rise to meet his company’s again. There is a part of him that is surprised when the ashy stallion claims he is happy with their less-than-graceful introduction—once upon a time, in a place now swallowed in shadows, Fang would have laughed and agreed, but perhaps he has been on edge for too long, become too accustomed to the prickle and bite of those strained with fear. Tilting his head, he realizes all the exuberance he has lost, and just how much he would like to find it again. “I’ve always tried to not make a habit of plowing into someone by way of introducing myself,” the boy chuckles softly, and shakes his head, “it’s been a lifelong struggle, I will admit.”

His delight grows to eclipse his humiliation when Reinhart offers to help familiarize him with this new land. “I’d appreciate that,” Fang smiles again, a little wider now. He moves to step forward, to follow his new guide, when the other man instead turns to come to him. Caught off-guard, he watches as he saunters up close to him, settling to tuck in at his side. There is a moment of silence before the red stallion responds—not because he is put off by Reinhart’s boldness, but simply amazed by it.

It’s been far too long since he has been so casually close to another person, to feel the warmth of their body for anything but survival, he hadn’t known it was something he’d missed until now. “I assure you, my friend, I feel welcomed enough already,” he says, relaxing with a breath of laughter rumbling deep in his chest.

“Tell me more about Denocte,” he asks of the silvered stranger, the simple request nearly a plea as it leaves his lips. Remembering the tour Caelum had given him of the Night’s city, he recalls what details she could share. “I’ve heard of—Caligo, isn’t it? And the other kingdoms with their gods, but I’d love to learn more,” Fang glances to him sideways, large ears slanted to readily catch his words.


tag; @Reinhart
“…”

Courage,

dear heart.

x | x