Kenza
It's...
It's not the fact that he reaches out to her; that part is expected, normal even between two like them. No, it's the way he does it, the way he feels as his thoughts brush against hers, much too gentle and kind and threatening to dissolve her sudden panic into confused tears. A safe harbor, a bastion as strong as the body he inhabits, and yet so warm. She gulps down air, holds her breath for a moment in an attempt to settle her racing heart and heaving chest.
It's not very effective. She can still taste the panic on her tongue. "Yeah, I, I just—" She looks at the children illuminated by the flickering fires; the ones which had turned to watch her mad approach are distracted by a fresh shower. Their happy screams makes her want to run away. It's too loud, too sharp, and honestly just hightailing it out of there feels like a really good option.
Buuuuuuut....
She doesn't want to admit what she was thinking, not where they can hear her. She doesn't want to spoil their carefree moment.
And equally, she doesn't want to just run the fuck away when he's being really nice and, well, that only leaves one option, doesn't it?
It feels like relief.
Muscles stretch and widen, bones rearranging themselves as her joints change shapes and angles; her skin grows fuzzy, pale in the dark and gold in the firelight. Her tail flicks once, and she feels better already. More grounded. Her ears prick in the direction of the elephant. She's gambling, hoping none of the children have chosen to attune yet. I was thinking about the stories of LongNight from the Hollowed Grounds. Then I heard the children, and, well... There's something rueful there, mingled with the slowly calming beat of her large heart. A scream's a scream, and you did look quite frightening, she finally admits, feeling equal parts bold and anxious.
It's not the fact that he reaches out to her; that part is expected, normal even between two like them. No, it's the way he does it, the way he feels as his thoughts brush against hers, much too gentle and kind and threatening to dissolve her sudden panic into confused tears. A safe harbor, a bastion as strong as the body he inhabits, and yet so warm. She gulps down air, holds her breath for a moment in an attempt to settle her racing heart and heaving chest.
It's not very effective. She can still taste the panic on her tongue. "Yeah, I, I just—" She looks at the children illuminated by the flickering fires; the ones which had turned to watch her mad approach are distracted by a fresh shower. Their happy screams makes her want to run away. It's too loud, too sharp, and honestly just hightailing it out of there feels like a really good option.
Buuuuuuut....
She doesn't want to admit what she was thinking, not where they can hear her. She doesn't want to spoil their carefree moment.
And equally, she doesn't want to just run the fuck away when he's being really nice and, well, that only leaves one option, doesn't it?
It feels like relief.
Muscles stretch and widen, bones rearranging themselves as her joints change shapes and angles; her skin grows fuzzy, pale in the dark and gold in the firelight. Her tail flicks once, and she feels better already. More grounded. Her ears prick in the direction of the elephant. She's gambling, hoping none of the children have chosen to attune yet. I was thinking about the stories of LongNight from the Hollowed Grounds. Then I heard the children, and, well... There's something rueful there, mingled with the slowly calming beat of her large heart. A scream's a scream, and you did look quite frightening, she finally admits, feeling equal parts bold and anxious.
