Maea
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved
He feared her judgement? She had just killed a buck and torn out its guts with her face. Were she to shift back into her human form there would still be blood between her teeth, clinging to her skin like blood on the snow. What kind of sane individual did that? If anything, she should be the one with her eyes on the ground, too ashamed to face him. And perhaps she really was hiding, in a way, because there was a resistence in her against shifting back. Then she would have to talk, to try and soothe whatever plight that haunted her friend to this extent.Maea wasn't sure she had the words for that. But at least, if he still felt wobbly despite being up on his feet, she could offer him more to lean on than that tree.
Her form rippled gently, thinning in girth and growing ever so slightly taller at the whithers. When the feirwe sighed it was a rush of cool air in the stifling heat left by the tiger, and on graceful legs she inched a little bit closer to the man. Her head lowered, cautious as she nuzzled his hand with a velvety nose; her antlers weren't over large, but the blueish flames could still burn him.
She did not want that. All she wished was that he would look at her, just the one time, and maybe allow her to slip beneath his arm. She may be small and frail seeming, but if he allowed himself to put some weight on her shoulder, the dragoon might find that the doe was tough, quite capable of supporting his weight. Strong enough, she thought, to share his burdens, for all that she couldn't lift them off him completely.
Her form rippled gently, thinning in girth and growing ever so slightly taller at the whithers. When the feirwe sighed it was a rush of cool air in the stifling heat left by the tiger, and on graceful legs she inched a little bit closer to the man. Her head lowered, cautious as she nuzzled his hand with a velvety nose; her antlers weren't over large, but the blueish flames could still burn him.
She did not want that. All she wished was that he would look at her, just the one time, and maybe allow her to slip beneath his arm. She may be small and frail seeming, but if he allowed himself to put some weight on her shoulder, the dragoon might find that the doe was tough, quite capable of supporting his weight. Strong enough, she thought, to share his burdens, for all that she couldn't lift them off him completely.
In secret, between the shadow and the soul
