and you remember love

tell the wolves I'm home

Maybe they were both sirens then; coaxing lulls of beckoning mirrors, back and forth from the shambles of what had once been. A growth harkened on their own merits, but the support still there in either shadow or light, surges of strength, might, fortitude, and indulgence, a liberation and freedom neither had known for years. It was a comforting balance – reminders that the weight of the world couldn’t rest on singular shoulders, that there was always someone in the midst, that they could call and there’d be an answer, rising, rising, rising from the lilts and tones. Love and distinction, encouragement and affection, keen notes memorized and known in primordial facets; deeply ingrained within ichor and aspiration, hope and loss.

Even now, in his musing silence, he wanted to laugh as she rushed headlong into the snare. His gaze softened from the retreated portions of shadows, from the husks of grass covering over his figure, taking her in, enticed and lured and adoring, as she burst along walls. He smothered the rise of the chuckle behind his teeth and tongue, and instead opted to repair the stalks and greenery she’d marred, placing additional wall-like structures in the hastened and patchwork maze.

the ressurected sword

Code blatantly stolen from the fantastical, wonderful Odd

Evie

tell me all of the things

that make you feel at ease

The grass grows over and into itself the moment she passes through, and Evie allows herself a childish pout at the ease of it all. Without him moving it's hard to gauge even with magic where his feet hit the earth as she might when hunting. Though this is hunting too, with a far greater prize in her mind.

Her strength is not nearly so great as his, but with a bit of creativity she manipulates the air around her, coiling tighter until blasting out in every direction to try and flatten the walls or slice through the weaker blades enough to find a larger figure within the walls wherever they do not bend and sway, eyes sharp and flitting about. Anything to avoid having to admit defeat.

tell the wolves I'm home

The air shorn and cut, and he muffled around pinnacle of laughter as he ducked below the suddenly cut grass. It was tempting to billow them all back into her features, bits and pieces of the wilderness labored and layered into her tresses, but he contented himself with amusements first and foremost. Her stubborn nature compelled and maneuvered his own into more lacquered furtiveness, and he snuck under guises of stalks wavering in the follies of the breeze.

He could’ve given her some boon, but not wanting to be one who simply let their beloveds win (no need to set those precedents), the Sword lingered outside the makeshift canopies; reforming them as soon as he was no longer within their confines. With any measure of luck or fortune, she’d spend most of her time combing through the remains, giving him ample opportunity of escape.

To which he started hastening for the shoreline again, enticed and inspired by the elements of his choosing.

the ressurected sword

Code blatantly stolen from the fantastical, wonderful Odd

Evie

tell me all of the things

that make you feel at ease

She is certainly close to giving up, but as she hunts through and systematically combs and cuts through the labyrinth only to find him absent, it's the last spark she needs to clench her hands and spin about with a keen-eyed stare as she emerges from the wreckage of plants to spy Deimos back on the shoreline in the distance.

"If you make me shower again from all this sand, honey, I'm making you wash my hair," she calls loudly, pleased with the empty expanse of land around them and the ability to be heinous buffoons without watching their volume or range. Which...they admittedly often ignore even when in Halo, admittedly. And it's hardly a threat, but she knows - they both know - that she'd be useless at sticking to her guns if she threatened lack of sex or pre-sleep cuddling. Damn him.

But she's just as incorrigible as him, and though she keeps to a light jog this time, she pursues again and again and again, following the imprints of his passage in the sand as if his distant shoulders aren't kept within her sights the entire time.

tell the wolves I'm home

The wealth and well of laughter in his chest unfurled once more at her declaration – he hadn’t been planning on sand in their current line of foreplay – but noted it regardless. “Not much of a threat,” he insisted on yelling back, for he wouldn’t mind it, and he sent a juvenile, unrepentant wink in her direction. Watching her fume, albeit ridiculously, was worth all the antics, and her persistence a favorable notion.

Rolling his long, albeit still slightly damp, hair back into a bun, his long limbs continued upon their course, machinations beginning that pulse and pull towards wanton disregard. If the choice was left up to him, they’d persist at the stupefying game for hours, ravish and ravage, and then go for a swim. But he knew there’d have to be a line drawn somewhere, otherwise Evie would inevitably fall asleep rather than enjoy more of their carnal intrigues (he doubted she’d admit it, but the notions were still there in theory).

So instead, he rampaged towards a series of rocks closer to the lake’s embankment, and ducked down behind them – beginning to shape mounds of dirt to barrage when she embarked into closer range.

the ressurected sword

Code blatantly stolen from the fantastical, wonderful Odd

Evie

tell me all of the things

that make you feel at ease

It's not, and her laughter steals enough of her breath that a follow up isn't worth the extra. There's little she can threaten him with that doesn't equally rob herself. Adorable but unfortunate, especially when leverage is needed during antics like these.

When he maneuvers toward the embankment and ducks out of sight, Evie's eyes narrow and she slows her jog as she approaches, readying herself to nullify what he might throw at her. Only a few of their abilities are evenly matched, but she has a decent repertoire of replacements that can achieve similar results if she can't match him for power. "If you sling mud while I'm naked I'll come up with a far better threat," she promises, calling it out to him as she walks into the water enough to try and prowl around the edge to catch sight of him.

tell the wolves I'm home

He could practically feel the suspicion slinking through the grass, the slower footfalls of her jog, the calculating airs rambling through. It only ensured more laughter as he remained behind the rocks, watching as she seemed to pulse and pervade through her intentions. He’d expected a little more waged war, and maybe hoped for it in some goading, enticing measure. “I would love to hear it,” he responded in kind, already conforming to several mounds of dirt; head tilting to listen as her limbs seemed to be threading through the water.

A ploy to disengage with impending mud? Could’ve been – he wouldn’t put it past her. Figuring it was worth a try, if only to be a juvenile irritant, he launched the first wave of soft pebbles and loam, sending it outwards in earthen machinations range.

the ressurected sword

Code blatantly stolen from the fantastical, wonderful Odd