Word Count → 448 :: This is disjointed and sucky because the dude next to me was blasting obnoxious music from his crappy headphones but here!
It was clear that much in life had changed. Vesper wanted to climb up to the peaks of the mountain range and sit and just watch the world—observe its new players, its changed rules. But she knew she could not watch for long without wanting to launch herself into it, for the sake of her comrades and for herself, and she knew she would not want to return to the mountains where she had crumbled for a very long time.
Distraction was her answer always, and she did her best to improve herself for the coming storm. The tension in the world was probably just an illusion, but she had seen the unease on the faces of her clan mates as they learned their leaders’ news. Certainly, the news of a wolf pack in the north and the fall of the Triarii had stunned everyone. It implied so much, and not everyone was prepared to face those implications.
The feral luperci donned her optime form as she had made an increased habit of these past few weeks. She never stayed this way outside of safe territory if she could help it, but her lessons with Helotes made it clear that she couldn’t forget it wholeheartedly. It was a struggle even to jog through the territory, though she liked threatening birds with skinny waving arms. She’d even managed to swipe a feather from Stark, coming to check on her as he had every day since the news of Blind’s death, which had either scared him away from her or had proven she was doing better.
It was nice to walk without a dark shadow, and Vesper looked around at the territory with a hint of wonder. She was used to the wasteland that was autumn and winter, beautiful sometimes in their own way with sheets of snow and crushed red and gold leaves—but a vernal Waste was new for her, and rich-smelling, and she wanted to shed this form to run through it on four legs. She abstained in favor of continuing the walk to the village.
She knew that Myrika had been involved at the border skirmish and that the woman had helped tend to a blinded Halo. The tall tawny woman had never seemed like a fighter, not like the signature Lykoi warrior, and while Ves liked that change of pace, it also concerned her. She didn’t know how Myrika had been affected by all this, and while it’d taken some pecking from the raven, she’d decided to see for herself.
Once more, Vesper walked up to the door. Her knuckles knocked against the wood lightly, a timid rapping, before more confidently she said, “It’s Vesper.”
Vesper Optime by Sie; table code from the Mentors!
The insides of her home smelled faintly of blood, she thought. Several candles had been lit to change that, giving some flickering light to the dim main hallway of the schoolhouse. Myrika had the curtains drawn, as she had these past few weeks, and she remained indoors. She had not abdicated her duties entirely, for she was Praetorian of the clan, obligated to ring its borders. Now, she was also the only one of the Triumvirate ranks -- Vesper had passed up to Optio, and Halo was regulated to Causarius, as with Kaena. She was more obligated to keep to her rank and duty than ever.
She had practiced with Ithiel just yesterday, and each day before that for the past four. Practiced for killing, she thought, her face darkening. It was necessary, though -- she was permitted to hope she'd never have to kill for Inferni, but if she wanted to live here, she needed to be prepared for the possibility. Myrika did not wish to become a warrior, but nonetheless, Ithiel had undertaken her education in the fundamentals of Optime form combat. She found it awkward and difficult, and the bruises on her arms and legs attested to that. Ithiel had not struck her with all his power nor at every opportunity -- he was that much a gentleman, at least -- but he had not spared her altogether. Once she'd asked for his teachings, he said, it was a disservice to take it easy on her. He had at least apologized and explained, she supposed.
The woman's large ears flicked as the sound of a knock reached her ears. She stood, cocking her head and pondering the knocker's identity before a voice greeted her, announcing the visitor as Vesper. The hybrid smiled and opened the door, squinting in the sudden light filtering into the otherwise dim hallway. Hey, she said, her voice low. Want to come in? she offered, stepping aside and indicating the schoolhouse. I'll come out, too. Either way. The woman shrugged and tried a smile again.
Word Count → 272 :: What a pretty Myri picture! And *gasp* what a pretty Vesper picture I have now tooo!
Vesper let her eyes half close as she scented the surrounding area: new blossoms in the trees, shoots of grass pushing through earth, and horse and sheep dung. Even the reek of the domesticated herbivores she was so awkward around was nice, though she didn’t want to think what it would be like when the summer heat beat down on them. She nearly snorted at the thought until the door opened, framing the fine, tall figure of the Praetorian.
The lighter-colored hybrid nearly stepped into the schoolhouse when invited to, but she’d noted the other’s hushed tone and remembered that others lived here now as well. Hesitating, she looked past her into the odorous darkness of the hallway then smiled suddenly and hopped back. “It really looks like you could use some sunlight,” she said, her tail wagging once behind her, “and it feels great out here.”
Besides enjoying the warmth of spring on her scrawny shoulders, she was more than a little uncomfortable at the thought of coming across one of the other residents of Myrika’s home—mainly the blinded once-Triarii and her children, though she didn’t want to accidentally wake up Kaena and get on the matriarch’s bad side, if she was one of those grumpy-when-disturbed types of old women.
“I wanted to see how you were, Myrika,” Vesper went on, and while her tone was light and casual, a certain concern in her pale blue eyes belied that. She knew her intentions would likely be seen through right away, but she hoped she wouldn’t do more harm than good wanting to make sure her friend was coping with everything.
Vesper Optime by Sie; table code from the Mentors!
As her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she saw the truth in Vesper's words. While the days she'd practiced with Ithiel were overcast and mostly cloudy, today was a rare day with a bright sun and few clouds in the sky. The scents of spring billowed inside, and the woman nodded, slipping out of the schoolhouse. She paused to pin back the leather flaps hanging over the doors, hoping to freshen the air inside. You're right, she admitted. It'd be a shame to spend today inside.
The inquiry came as Myrika had guessed it would. She pondered whether Vesper had come of her own volition or if she'd been sent here -- either way, a gesture of kindness, and one Myrika was unlikely to refuse. Still, it made her feel awkward -- Ithiel did not need counsel, he had not received a visit from anyone. Myri doubted Vesper would require such reassurances, either, if the two of them had been in different places on that day. Still -- she was not Vesper, she was not Ithiel. She was Myrika Tears, and she had been raised to believe killing was bad, and killing was something Infernians and especially Lykois did -- but she was a Lykoi, was she not? She was an Infernian. And... she hadn't killed without reason, had she?
The woman took a step away from the door and into the full sunlight, breathing deeply of the cool spring air. Eira issued a whinny and trotted to the edge of the corral, followed closely by Cahal. Myrika's turquoise eyes appraised her mare sharply, searching for signs of roundness in her belly. She was growing fuller in the ribs with each passing day, though her pregnancy was not stunningly apparent yet -- in the next few months, though, she would become larger and larger. Myri was grateful for the presence of her bay stallion -- he was a good acquisition, and he would serve her well long after Eira's months of easy labor were over with.
I'm okay. I think, she said, shrugging. She felt rather small, like a child overstepping her boundaries. Ithiel said I should get over it, that she was dead either way. He's right, the woman added, shrugging. Ithiel's feelings were not exactly her own, though, were they? I'm... glad Halo is here. I wouldn't have that any other way. That was certain, and that was her own.
The scarred woman smiled as the other agreed to come outside, although the smile faded faintly once she was turned around and leading the Praetorian away from the old schoolhouse. The grass was soft underpaw, and blossoms appeared on the trees, as if unaware of the danger on the wind. A few pale petals floated from their branch and landed on the Optio as she looked back at Myrika again.
Twitching a flower away from her ear, Vesper frowned faintly. The shrugs more or less indicated what she thought of Ithiel’s advice, and the words that followed sounded more truthful. That, she could work with.
“Ithiel’s a soldier,” the coywolf growled, her pale hands finding her nearly nonexistent hips. “So I guess it makes sense he’d think like that. It all probably stopped meaning anything to him anyway.” There was little derision in her tone; sometimes she wished she was capable of not caring, too, although she feared what that would mean for her as a person. “But you’re right. Halo is here, and she has you to thank.” She waved her hand dismissively in case the other would protest this point. “And…” Her voice trailed off; she realized she didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t used to coddling others, even if this was more than coddling: important, genuine, reassuring.
“I’ve only killed one,” Vesper said out of the blue; she knew with her lust for fighting, it might seem a higher number. One large ear tilted back into her messily cropped mane while its mangled twin twitched. Her eyes fell to her claws. “Just one. And I was—I was a mess. And I’d still probably be a mess even if it was a stranger out to kill me. Because I keep remembering the first one, the fool boy.”
She’d said too much, all irrelevant to the auburn-haired woman’s feelings. If anything, she’d probably made the situation worse. The cocky scout who enjoyed scrapping with others shrank away into an uncertain young woman who hated killing, hating how unnecessary it all was. “There isn’t really any ‘getting over it,’” she murmured. “It’s a life. It had probably gotten to the point where it needed to be taken, or you’d lose someone precious, but it was still a life.”
Vesper Optime by Sie; table code from the Mentors!
(318) Did you know I suck? :3 Also presuming Vesper is kinda walking next to her I guess?! If need edit plz let me know. Larve youuu
She had replayed the events of that afternoon many times, looping them back and through her mind repeatedly. Nothing could have been done differently, she thought. If she had not done away with the wolf, Ithiel would have. If neither of them had taken her life, Ezekiel would have, if they had imprisoned her instead. It was not right or just for the wolf to simply leave, to simply walk free after having committed such atrocious attacks against the clan and Halo.
The mahogany-haired woman frowned, her ears flicking backward as she listened to her Optio. She did not imagine others felt the same way, but it was relieving to know she was not completely alone. She could not imagine many of Inferni hesitating before a kill or even having remorse afterward -- Ezekiel, Ithiel? No, they were too strong for that, or perhaps they were just better pretenders and better at hiding these things than most. She nodded slowly.
It's good to know I'm not alone in feeling this way. I think about -- her life, what it was like. What made her that way, the woman said, frowning. That isn't making it any better, but it... I don't know, I guess it makes me feel a little better and a little worse about it. I'm remembering her, or trying to remember her, with sympathy in mind, but it also really doesn't make it any easier to deal with. And if we have to kill again... and again, maybe -- maybe it will become too hard to remember all the faces, eventually? she said, shrugging and trying to look tough.
She thought she was failing miserably, and turned away, starting toward the fence but thinking better of it, remembering Vesper's wariness of the horses. Instead, she meandered slowly down the dirt swath in front of the corral, no particular destination in mind.
Large ears pressed into mahogany hair, and Vesper watched the other’s reaction as carefully as she could out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t know what she should be afraid of, if they were of the same opinion, but she still felt as if Myrika would need another’s words, another’s approach. She supposed that Ithiel hadn’t helped, but if he had…
She realized she was fretting like a girl and scratched the top of her nose absentmindedly. Advice was advice, and there was a reason that it was different coming from everyone’s lips.
Her blue eyes softened with understanding as the Praetorian explained herself. “No, sympathy doesn’t make it easier, but it means you have a heart,” she said, glancing back at the corral as they walked. “If we understand what makes them tick, maybe it’ll be easier to avoid a death next time. Maybe.”
She knew that she hadn’t been nearly as sympathetic about her enemies, but she did understand the only one she’d ever killed. She’d understood Oliver because they’d been alike in more ways than she cared to admit. They had both been arrogant bullies, but the difference was that Vesper hadn’t cared about her insecurities. Oliver had, and it’d made him mean to compensate, and he’d have the misfortune of sharing a girl with his murderer.
She was about to reply with another unhelpful “maybe” when she looked over and saw Myrika’s attempt at looking strong. A smile broke out across her face, and she stepped a bit closer to nudge a small hip against her—as reassuring and friendly as it was teasing.
“We’ll see,” Vesper said, smirking despite the heat in her ears. “Until then, have you had any training? If you learn how to beat the hell out of your foes until they’re unconscious, you don’t really need to kill ’em.” She grinned crookedly, parodying ferocity.
Vesper Optime by Sie; table code from the Mentors!
Jsyk when I read the hipnudge I envisioned Myri turning Ves around and being all, "MY LADY" and flourishing, sweep-off-feet... motions. Yeah. I am weird. 8B I thought it was funnyyyy so I shareeeeeddddd. ♥ Also oh god the last paragraph and staff and... gjwioejgaerg. There are just. Too many. Jokes. /explodes
Myrika is by Kiri!
She'd taken a life. What was her suffering, her guilt, to that loss? She would try to remember the dead, then, if only out of some sense of guilt. She had taken from them, and it was only fair they gave something in return for that dark gift she'd bestowed to them. The mahogany-haired woman nodded mutely, though a small smile crossed her muzzle. The hybrid was not certain what to say in response, and part of her mind had already meandered down another train of thought, relevant to suffering and life.
Vesper's nudge brought her sharply from her thoughts, and though she was surprised, the tawny woman grinned with pleasant surprise a moment before she remembered herself, Vesper, and all else about the world. The grin was quick to disappear thereafter, but a small brightness still glittered in her eyes. That intensified again into a full smile as the Praetorian listened to her subleader's proposal and saw her grin; it was as if Myri could not help but smile when the scarred woman did.
Ithiel's taught me a little, but he's only taught me about the staff, she said, shrugging. I don't know the first thing about really brawling, though, she said. A daring moment of boldness prompting her to ask a question, eyes on Vesper with eagerness and mischief both. Are you offering to teach me?
Word Count → 346 :: Well, thanks for almost killing me. I was stupid enough to take a drink before reading your post. >>
The light bump seemed to have roused a smile out of the Praetorian, and Vesper admired the fine coyote features of her face when she grinned. Even when that particular smile went away, it lived on in her turquoise eyes, and the Optio almost stumbled over a rock in the path as repayment for noticing this. Luckily, her balance was as sharp as ever, and she managed to walk normally as she looked forward.
Her ears pricked when the tawny woman explained that she’d learned how to fight with a staff weapon. She looked back at Myri at this, about to make a remark that died on her lips when a mischievous look overtook the Praetorian’s face. Her bold question flustered the Optio, whose mouth opened and shut a couple of times before she snorted and faced forward, all cool again.
“Of course,” the scarred coywolf stated, and a muscle in her cheek jumped as she suppressed a smile. “I’m not stingy with my teaching; what kind of example would that be?”
Her mind was offering plenty of pleasant scenarios about how this whole thing could go horribly, horribly wrong, but she focused on their surroundings instead. It wasn’t so close here, like it had been among the other houses, and there was nice spring-soft grass on Myrika’s side of the path. Her nose told her that no one else was in the area, other than the odors of horses and sheep, and so she nodded to herself and continued.
“Brawling isn’t so different from fighting on four legs. I mean, instinct really plays a role. If you need to bite or claw, bite or claw. Simpler than fighting with a blade or a staff, I think.” She cleared her throat. “But the first lesson, as with all fighting, is that you have to be on your guard at all times. You don’t have a weapon between you and your assailant, just your body, and an attack can come out of anywhere.”
With this cheerful warning, Vesper pivoted on a dime and launched herself at Myrika.
Vesper Optime by Sie; table code from the Mentors!
(258)
Ahhahaha. ITHIEL'S STAFF. /WINKNUDGEWINKNUDGE ALSO DEAR GOD I CANNOT STOP THERE'S ANOTHER ONE IN THIS POST O_O.
Myrika is by Kiri!
The mottled Optio did not seem to know how to respond at first, and she seemed at a loss for words a moment, until she finally whirled around. This was enough to give Myrika a momentary pause of panic wherein she was absolutely certain she had just caused some grave offense -- though she did not know what -- to the blue-eyed woman. Had she been too forward? Perhaps Vesper didn't like women -- or perhaps Vesper just didn't like her, which seemed more plausible to Myrika.
The woman's ears were pinned deeply into the tangle of pulled-back hair atop her head by the time Vesper spoke. Relief at the Optio's kindly words flooded Myrika, as she had been expecting a tongue-lashing, and not the sort she might have wanted. Thank you, she murmured, breathing the word more softly than she'd intended. I need all the help I can get, the hybrid added, more loudly.
The tawny woman trailed after her companion, eyes pointedly focused on the shifting of her shoulderblades and the movement of her walk. Though she willed her mind to focus intently on what her companion was saying, a pesky appreciation for the tawny-furred woman's motion and the sharp lines of her, the tangle of scars here and there. It was therefore almost a complete surprise to her when the gray-splotched woman whirled on her heels and launched herself at Myri, who could only throw her hands up in defense as her Optio careened forward toward her.
Word Count → 188 :: Ves is trying so hard to be serious. :|
There was little room for regret as their bodies collided, the Praetorian’s up-thrown hands doing little to fend the attacker off. They fell, landing in the soft grass as Vesper had planned.
Stupidly, though, she hadn’t planned about what to do at this point. Had she been fighting a warrior, they would be able to transition smoothly into snapping and grappling, but she blanked when she felt the long, strong torso underneath hers. Perhaps she’d been expecting something slightly softer, but Myri was still a fit coywolf, muscled from hunting and riding horses and everything else. She swallowed and looked up at her ginger-accented features, the skinny arms holding her up off the woman turning to jelly.
Vesper quickly rolled off to the side, grass stuck in her fur as she crouched and shook her head. “Well,” she said, “that was an example of what not to do in a fight.” She cleared her throat, sharpened her focus. “Attack me; I’ll show you the defense stuff.” An arrogant smirk brightened her angled face suddenly, and her tail swished behind her as she added, “Don’t get distracted this time.”
Vesper Optime by Sie; table code from the Mentors!
(--) pfffffffff ahaha and the end of this is poop because I have to goooo but powerplay whatevs, I trust you!
Myrika is by me!
Unprepared as she was, Myri went tumbling to the ground with Vesper's momentum, her fall padded by the thick springtime grasses sprouting from the earth. The tawny Praetorian tensed, expecting a hail of blows -- not full-force, but hard enough to hurt and leave a bruise, as Ithiel did. Instead, there was only a moment of hesitation from her superior as the woman hovered there over her, looking up and rolling off abruptly to hunker down on the ground. Myri half-turned toward her Optio with curiosity, though she did not move to rise. For a moment, again, the redhead was afraid she'd crossed some boundary better left uncrossed.
Vesper seemed more flustered than annoyed, however, and Myri wasn't quite certain who the Optio was speaking of with regards to what not to do -- surely, the tawny hybrid had made an initial mistake, surely, but Ithiel would have said it was Vesper's mistake, also, not to press the attack. With the woman's command, the Praetorian rose into a crouch something like Vesper's, leaning on her hands. Me? she asked, her muzzle wrinkling with the grin. Sure, the hybrid added good-naturedly, her own tail twitching with amusement now.
As she had no idea how to best make this approach, Myrika decided the best thing for it was to charge in headlong -- precisely what she did, leaping on all four as if she was in the Lupus or Secui form. Her shoulder dipped low, and she veered toward the mottled coyote.
Word Count → 139 :: This post is so short, it can sit on a dime and swing its legs.
Myrika grinned as she pushed herself up into a crouching position, and Vesper had to bite her tongue to keep from answering defensively. Then again, she never really was the type to shield her feelings pointlessly—regardless what her feelings were. And she wouldn’t lie about the distraction either, but dealing with distractions was a part of training, right? A smirk dancing on her lips, she only waited and goaded the other on with her eyes.
The Praetorian charged at her, and Vesper simply moved her thin body out of the way at the last moment. Two shades of tawny kissed as she dodged, and she threw her own shoulder into her side. She knew she didn’t weigh much, and that Myri was bigger than, but she could at least knock her down again—and not hesitate this time.
Vesper Optime by Sie; table code from the Mentors!
Short posts are goooood wif action though! Myrika is going to try and pick Vesper up. <____< Literally, I mean. HURR.
Myrika is by Raze!
Naturally, her tactic was a disaster -- it was much the same as when she'd first picked up the wooden stave and fought Ithiel, albeit much less painful. Her dark cousin had delivered bruises, whereas this interaction was altogether more pleasant. Her shoulder grazed against Vesper's and then she was keenly aware of a weight, surprisingly forceful for Vesper's size, knocking her to the side.
One hand caught against something -- whether it was Vesper herself or the ground or even some other part of her own body, Myri did not see -- and she went tumbling to the earth, narrowly avoiding smashing her shoulder into a stone. It was small enough to have avoided any real damage, and large enough to have been seriously painful if it had been the thing she chanced to land upon.
The tawny coyote picked herself up with a sharp inhale, whirling around to face the Optio again. Rather than charge, however, the tawny coyote stood in a half-crouched stance, shifting around in a half-circle. She was more or less considering and biding her time, thinking of what to do, when it came to her she simply would never be fast enough to catch Vesper in a headlong charge.
There was another smile on the tawny coyote's muzzle, and she inched forward, still crouching low to the ground and seeking to close the distance more slowly now. She jerked forward once, perhaps a feint or perhaps a true charge reconsidered, but quickly corrected and even withdrew for a moment. She was quick to start forward again, a look of determination on her face.
Word Count → 209 :: Meep, assumed you meant in that post. Raze is trying to be active again. ;__;
Balance and agility were her strengths. She might not be able to defeat others in a full-out sprint, but she could pivot on a dime and avoid danger without faltering. Exhilaration rushed through her as she twisted, and she let out a high growl as she managed to knock the other woman down. She didn’t see the rock as she drew back with wagging tail and flattened ears; it would have ruined the mood anyway. Her blue eyes met Myrika’s turquoise ones as the Praetorian began to circle around thoughtfully.
Good, Vesper praised silently, grinning at her. When in doubt, break apart, use your space. She maintained the distance as the other inched forward, but the jolt had her beginning to move more quickly—and when Myrika truly came at her, it was to wrap her strong arms around her and lift her up off the ground. The growl that’d left the scarred woman turned into a yelp, and all she could do was try to grab whatever she could. She’d trained to keep balance, to never stumble or fall, but there was little she could do if someone bodily heaved her somewhere. Her fur bristled as she tried to nip at the other, although she was suppressing laughter.
Vesper Optime by Sie; table code from the Mentors!
The distance between them inched closed, and when Myrika came forward again, she made contact. Long arms wrapped around the other woman's waist and Myrika plucked her off the ground, hoisting and standing with little enough effort. Where Vesper had growled and even yelped, Myrika had been quiet -- now, though, she began to grin and shortly, she was laughing. She stood there with the smaller Optime in her arms, not quite knowing what to do and feeling rather like a puppy who has captured her first rabbit and was never told what to do after the rabbit is caught.
Vesper's feet dangled just off the ground, but she was still able to nip the tawny Praetorian and grasp at her, too; Myrika abruptly stopped laughing and, on strong impulse, nipped back, her teeth lingering on a tawny shoulder. She squeezed more tightly, though it was entirely lacking in any intent to strangle Vesper's breath away. Have I won? she said, drawing back and loosing her hold to peer at Vesper with a smile upon her muzzle, albeit a more tempered one. Her ears were half-mast in uncertainty; she thought it might be time to put her Optio back on the ground, but she didn't really want to.
Vesper had never truly been picked up before, and she thought that she would resent the sensation. To have her feet off the ground, dangling in the air at another luperci’s whim, would be to lose control of herself. She hated feeling vulnerable.
But underneath her growls and scowls, she was laughing. The other woman was soft yet strong, and warm above all. The space between them was gone again, especially as the other squeezed, but she didn’t mind the closeness, not with Myrika.
While the woman’s tight embrace did not leave Vesper breathless, the teeth on her shoulder did. She stopped her soft clawing to free herself and looped her arms around the other more gently, meeting Myri’s smile. Her mangled ear twitched backwards as an urge came over her, but she suppressed it as she had suppressed her laughter.
She tried to sound grudging. “I suppose I yield,” she murmured, and wondered if it would be entirely inappropriate to just kiss Myrika like she wanted to.
Vesper Optime by Sie; table code from the Mentors!
Vesper's arms wrapped around her and Myri found herself nearly facing the other woman. Though she was still grinning, it was more a star-crossed sort of look now than one of pure amusement. Turquoise eyes followed and noted the flick of an ear, but there were few other signs of anxiety -- at least, none Myrika could detect. Why would the flick of an ear outweigh an entire twist of body, after all?
Myrika made a face she hoped was something close to a smile, trying to diffuse the wave of heat and confusion and anxiety washing over her. Being a valiant in battle has its benefits, I see, the hybrid said slowly, almost jerkily -- she was more than happy that Vesper was not trying to squirm away, but momentarily paralyzed all the same. She could feel well-muscled and warm flesh against her own, clutched in her arms and beneath her fingertips. Her moving fingers, she realized, stilling them with a little jolt. They'd seemed to move all on their own, light touches entirely unbefitting one engaged in combat.
Word Count → 291 :: Do not read this post if you're lactose intolerant 'cause it's cheeeeeeeeesy
Perhaps the other’s smile came awkwardly, but it was much more beautiful than anything Vesper felt she could manage at the moment. For someone used to dominion over her muscles, she did not feel like she had control over her face; it was probably because it was melting. When her teeth flashed, she thought she must look a madwoman, and knew any laughter she produced would be close to hysterical.
Instead, the Optio only let out a soft chuckle at the other’s remark, and met her turquoise eyes one more time. Light caresses touched her pale tawny fur, and she might have leaned into the touch had she not been suspended off solid earth. Instead, she regarded the other’s face with care; a helpless, crooked smirk found its way on her lips.
I yield, Vesper told herself again, one of her own hands reaching up to brush a lock of mahogany from the woman’s face.
She had not kissed another for a long time, it seemed like. This one was only a brief touch, little more than a pair of noses meeting, but the coywolf’s heart and stomach seemed to think differently; they changed places and threatened to quit working. Just as quickly, she pulled away and said casually, “Now let me down, sweetheart.”
She did not trust herself to say anything else. She wanted to run the moment her feet touched the ground, just as much as she wanted to lean in again. It wasn’t as if this was some new foreign feeling, but she didn’t know what to do next, or what Myri would even think, or how they could continue doing anything productive. But she had no regrets, and she hoped that Myrika wouldn’t think she ever did.
Vesper Optime by Sie; table code from the Mentors!
The tawny coyote in her arms brushed a lock of hair away, and their muzzles touched -- it was quick and over before the redhead was even certain it had happened, but Myri leaned into it and murmured as Vesper pulled away, turquoise eyes fluttering back open. Ah -- ha, she squeaked, nodding as she let Vesper back onto the ground, stepping back and pulling her hands to her sides. They didn't seem to belong there, so she crossed them over her stomach and tried a smile.
Sweetheart? she managed to ask, again squeaking out the word. Her dark-splotched tail wagged slowly back and forth, and the grin on her lips seemed almost sloppy, dazed -- she had been kissed before, of course, but the kisses she'd previously experienced hadn't come close to that one. Small as it had been, painfully brief as it had been, the tawny-furred hybrid felt as though all sense had been knocked out of her. She felt she wouldn't be able to call upon a single reliable piece of knowledge, as much as she'd collected over her years on the earth.
Her eyes were on Vesper still, and she wanted to apologize for having held her there and thank her for the kiss and probably ten other things, but anything her mind came up with was silly and not good enough to be said aloud. Her lips twitched and her smile broadened, and though she again moved the position of her arms, letting them drop to her sides again, her tail still wagged.
