table © Alaine
ooc: :3
As a pup, Caillen had been warned about forests like this. Forests that held spirit-eyes, forests that were home to wisps of one's imagination, spectral creatures that existed only behind shuttered eyelids. The dreamer knew of each haunting tale, each mythological wraith that threatened the existence of mortal sanity. Keenly aware of the presence of these nature-spirits, the slate youth tread the ground carefully, his eyes all the more observant, his nose still twitching at the misplaced scent.
Then, alas, it spoke.
He froze again, prepared to utter all manner of protection prayers, all sorts of hymns to ward off the immortal mischief-makers bubbling on his tongue. But then he saw her, and the words died in his throat.
She was beautiful.
She was clearly not mortal. Not to him, anyway. Her eyes were stark, rose red, the kind that drew his own sky blue like the doomed moth to the flame. And her voice, a sensual whisper that make his harks long for more, made his whole body lean towards her fatality. Which, fatality she clearly was, this sylph of the forest, with her lithe body, her large ears, her pixie face. Little did Caillen know that he was, infact, looking upon a coyote - how could this perfect creature be one of the blood-thirsty murderers that had plagued his nightmares so? It simply could not be.
He knew of only one lady to match her beauty, the collie girl who lingered still in the cage of his ribs. But for the moment, he stored her memory away, focused his attention solely on the fairy-Fae before him. What had she said? The slate youth blinked absently, forgetting for a moment just how to talk.
" Y-y-yes. I am... I am, yes."
Suddenly, he felt very young, and very foolish. Taking a deep breath, the adolescent puffed out his chest slightly, made his already-tall stature taller. The stick in his hand was stabbed defiantly into the earth, even though the serious face he projected was clearly lost in translation - Caillen looking seriously was like a frog looking joyous; the expressions simply did not match. Filled with the pride of no longer being a 'child', for he was now most CERTAINLY a young man, and more than able to speak freely with those whom he chose, Caillen cleared his throat before trying again.
" I assume this is your forest, lady sylph. I didn't mean to trespass on your... Domain."
He surely didn't want to anger the forest spirit. Everybody knew that forest spirits could be particularly malicious when mean, something entirely devoid from their usual mischievous nature.
Speak think walk
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