M- the path of a lightning bolt

Lilin Soulstorm · 06-12-2012, 09:38 PM

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(407) wotd fantast. and I lied, this sucks ;; -fails-

Her injury was progressively getting better over time. It protruded a lot less, the concealed lump shrinking noticeably with every passing day. Lilin could tell just by running her fingers over the area - it had matured into a solid mass, unlike the soft cushiony surface Saul had initially been so concerned about. The headaches and bouts of dizziness would still come, just as frequently if not more, but they would last no longer than five to ten minutes. She could definitely live with that – they weren’t debilitating to the point where she could not function and perform her daily tasks. A break here and there did not hinder her responsibilities, border duty included. Of course, she knew her pack mates and family likely would not agree with her – Saul being the first. With Bran’s partnership during her last undertaking, she knew her beau would undoubtedly be informed sooner or later. Her co-leader hadn’t sought her out as of yet, which was a surprising thing in itself.

Lilin was still mulling over it all when a knock on her door redirected her attention to her impromptu guest's probable identity. Assumptions were usually best avoided but in this case, there were no doubts in her mind that her visitor was in fact the man she’d been thinking about. For a fantast such as herself, it was not unexpected. Pack members did not impose themselves this late, with the exception of the Godja who was comfortable enough to just waltz on in without announcing herself.

The Soulstorm heir had been sorting through her collection of fabrics, developing a preference for the softness of the silk linens she’d found in a residential area of Amherst a day or two before the assault. She’d placed her velvety smooth treasures on her straw mattress, atop the pelts she already owned. Like most decorative items, her materials never failed to catch her interest. Not many people could easily pry her from her self-obtained fabrics; Saul’s beckoning, however, was plenty enough to make her drop everything. She was at the door within seconds, opening it just a crack to peer outside and plunge into the verdant hues of his irises. “Yes...?” she responded haughtily, biting down on her lower lip to keep herself from smiling. Lilin had never been a fan of rules and regulations; her beau’s knocking was unnecessary; as unnecessary as her snooty performance.

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