NATE
Did he think he was ready? Fuck no. Not at all. God, it was one thing to try to understand the depth of emotions within just himself sometimes, to struggle to find words for it, but to feel that same bottomless well in Sunjata is indescribable. If anything though, it makes that blind confidence easier to follow, Nate too overwhelmed by whats shared to resist leaning into the tongue that swipes across his face. As I'll ever be. Comes the purr, mental and literal, rumbling through Nate's chest as he rises as well, trying to keep close.
There is a still a buzz of warm, love-struck awe radiating from Nate, even as he's pushed back, keeping still for only a moment before he's following at his fiance's heels again, dragged along by the similar warm thread emanating from Sunjata. For whatever reason, giving in to the panthers instincts is easier at the moment, the stubborn insistence of control momentarily disarmed. He sinks down as well, creeping along the jungle ground as if he were born in it, save for the very obvious rumbling purr leaving him, deep and low.
With the initial emotional overload passed, Nate was vulnerable to the next one. He could smell. Still dull, but less faint than anything he'd experienced since he'd ascended. Why is this the first time we've done this? There's an exuberance in his tone not echoed by his motions, still careful and quiet, though leaning inexorably in the direction of a scent he doesn't recognize, but that seems to call to him.
There is a still a buzz of warm, love-struck awe radiating from Nate, even as he's pushed back, keeping still for only a moment before he's following at his fiance's heels again, dragged along by the similar warm thread emanating from Sunjata. For whatever reason, giving in to the panthers instincts is easier at the moment, the stubborn insistence of control momentarily disarmed. He sinks down as well, creeping along the jungle ground as if he were born in it, save for the very obvious rumbling purr leaving him, deep and low.
With the initial emotional overload passed, Nate was vulnerable to the next one. He could smell. Still dull, but less faint than anything he'd experienced since he'd ascended. Why is this the first time we've done this? There's an exuberance in his tone not echoed by his motions, still careful and quiet, though leaning inexorably in the direction of a scent he doesn't recognize, but that seems to call to him.
Let’s admit, without apology,
what we do to each other
what we do to each other
