COLT
The ease with which he holds her now makes her question why she ever held him at bay. The shape of his palm on her thigh, the tangle of his fingers in hers—it feels like a sigh she's been holding in, finally released. They could have traveled like this all along—it would’ve made everything infinitely better. Then again, maybe this simplicity was earned, melted into shape by time and heat. Surprisingly, the sky hasn’t cracked open and rained flaming pieces all around her. So, if her world isn't ending, then maybe...there's nothing to fault here. Maybe this isn't a mistake after all. It certainly feels right, to be swept along in the current of him, dazzled by the stars he keeps in his eyes.
They sparkled over his shoulder, that knife-edge of a grin cutting alongside the blue like something corrupt with glee. She tilts her head slightly, lips pursed with a question for that devious weapon of a smile, but the query dies to a shout as he's a rolling curtain of dusk beneath her. Her lazy sprawl snaps alert, but laughter cuts through the yell, an outcry against another surprise launched like battle against her. "VES! Fucks sake." Her hands dive for his mane like it’s a lifeline, desperate for something familiar in the chaos. It spills like unlit stars through her fingers—slick with seawater, like the rest of him. Like her.
She slips into the spot behind his withers with little performance, the seat natural and well-known now. He doesn’t hesitate, when has he ever, and it’s all she can do to stay with him as he sprints down the sand like ink whisked into a poem. Along the beach it's not so warm, there's no dust, and the ground holds steadier under the drum of his hooves. His power is on full display, jolting beneath her—so wild, so fierce, she’s ashamed to think she ever knew what that meant before him. It pales in comparison to this midnight ride, and the thrill of it tingles from toe to mouth, a whoop cast free as she leans into his neck, into the surge of him. The wind he stirs lashes past, cold against her ears, hair whipping her shoulders like the world itself is urging them on.
She laughs, a choppy sound as she's half breathless with the rush of everything, a glow of joy unmistakable. Leaning up further on his neck, one hand slicks the remaining water from his hide with a long stroke. "You're too good, Ves," she says, heart full—for the first time in what feels like forever.
They sparkled over his shoulder, that knife-edge of a grin cutting alongside the blue like something corrupt with glee. She tilts her head slightly, lips pursed with a question for that devious weapon of a smile, but the query dies to a shout as he's a rolling curtain of dusk beneath her. Her lazy sprawl snaps alert, but laughter cuts through the yell, an outcry against another surprise launched like battle against her. "VES! Fucks sake." Her hands dive for his mane like it’s a lifeline, desperate for something familiar in the chaos. It spills like unlit stars through her fingers—slick with seawater, like the rest of him. Like her.
She slips into the spot behind his withers with little performance, the seat natural and well-known now. He doesn’t hesitate, when has he ever, and it’s all she can do to stay with him as he sprints down the sand like ink whisked into a poem. Along the beach it's not so warm, there's no dust, and the ground holds steadier under the drum of his hooves. His power is on full display, jolting beneath her—so wild, so fierce, she’s ashamed to think she ever knew what that meant before him. It pales in comparison to this midnight ride, and the thrill of it tingles from toe to mouth, a whoop cast free as she leans into his neck, into the surge of him. The wind he stirs lashes past, cold against her ears, hair whipping her shoulders like the world itself is urging them on.
She laughs, a choppy sound as she's half breathless with the rush of everything, a glow of joy unmistakable. Leaning up further on his neck, one hand slicks the remaining water from his hide with a long stroke. "You're too good, Ves," she says, heart full—for the first time in what feels like forever.
Wild horse out the gate
Yeah your heart about to break
She the type of woman that gon' make you lose control
She something wild, you might need a lasso
Yeah your heart about to break
She the type of woman that gon' make you lose control
She something wild, you might need a lasso
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
