I wish I had your pair of wings

Bris Stormbringer · 09-30-2010, 09:39 AM

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Yay!! The powerplay is fine fluff, I love your post. XDD And lengthy posts like this one are the result of NOT BEING INTERRUPTED BY CUSTOMERS IN THE MIDDLE. Thank you super rainy deluge day!!!
WC: 882

It had been a relatively quiet early morning. Bris had only just returned to her bedroom from seeing to the two tiny Soul pups her nephew had decided to care for, but she was too awake to go back to sleep. The pups were fed and content, and she had no doubts they would sleep through the rest of the morning, and wouldn't need to be fed again until much later. Pups in their stage grew quickly and adapted quickly, and Bris was thankful for that. It had taken a full day or two for her system to recognize what she'd wanted it to do for the adopted Dahlian pups, but the white woman had no doubts it would catch on with time. After all, both her grand-aunt Ravyn and her cousin Rain had performed the same duty for the children of others. Ironically enough, both litters the pair had been wet-nurses for had come from the same person, only years apart.

So it was when Conor knocked on Bris' door that she was curled up in a newly acquired reclining chair near her window. Bris had been shocked at the good condition of the chair she'd found in one of the back rooms of the town library, and with a bit of determination and effort (and maybe a tad bit of help), she'd managed to wrestle it into its current spot. It was perfect for the bedroom, providing the woman with a place to read that didn't end up putting a crick in her neck like laying on her bed did. The fabric was soft and supple, a nice tan shade that reminded Bris of Conor's warm colors.

The knock on her door had illicited a curious glance from the reading woman, a look intensified by the words that came with it. Bris' heart began to race at those words, but she forced it to slow. What on earth could Conor have to tell her that he couldn't just come into the room and say? They were more than comfortable with each other, and the male should know by now that Bris' door would never be closed to him. Knocking was required by everyone aside from him, Gideon, and Nayru. They were the three closest to her, and they would never need to ask permission to get close to her. Obviously puzzled by Conor's actions, for she heard him turn back down the stairs without even waiting for a reply, Bris set her book on the chair as she rose and started to walk out of the room.

She hadn't taken two steps before she caught sight of something on her dresser out of the corner of her eye. It was the necklace she'd finally, painstakingly finished for Conor. It had taken her much longer to finish than any of her other pieces aside from Nayru's intricate anklet, and for good reason. The woman had wanted it to be perfect. Of course, she would never be wholly satisfied (for goodness' sake, the raven's wings weren't absolutely symetrical!) but Bris had a feeling that if she tried to nitpick she'd never give the male the gift. She chewed her lip as she moved to the dresser, her white paw-hands reaching to delicately handle the piece. She knew of course that her careful handling wasn't necessary; she'd crafted this particular necklace to be sturdy and tough. It would handle the everyday wear and tear quite well, actually. Her lips tugged into a gentle smile as her eyes lit up with excitement. Yes, today would be the day she'd finally hand it over. She just hoped he'd appreciate it.

Now more eager to follow the unseen male outside, Bris scooped the necklace up into one of her purple velvet gift bags and grabbed her satchel. There were two books and countless pieces of in-progress jewelry in the satchel already, but the woman had the idea that once she was finished with whatever the object of her affection needed she would go indulge herself in a little relaxation. Throwing the bag over her shoulder and placing the purple one inside it, the white woman left her room in a flurry of white fur, not even bothering to close her door behind her.

As she stepped out into the cool morning air, the woman's face lit up. She took a deep breath, a soft autumn breeze kissing her cheeks and filling her lungs with freshness. Conor was waiting for her just off the porch, an ample-sized wicker basket sitting on the ground beside him. Tilting her head in curiosity, Bris approached him, a half-excited, half-confused smile tugging at one side of her lips. "Conor, what did you need to tell me? And just what are you up to?" Bris had an idea, if she was recognizing the basket for what it was. The prospect of spending the day on a picnic with Conor was something that made the woman's heart soar. Things had been moving at a snail's pace since that night of the pair's first kiss, and she'd been more than content to let things remain that way. Bris was in no rush, and she knew that Conor would need to take things slow anyhow. She loved him enough to let him lead the way.

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