tell the wolves I'm home
It would be a lie to say the thrill of the chase didn’t heighten his senses, didn’t contort into his restlessness, didn’t come alive in pursuit and prey. Perhaps that was why he’d intentionally made her the predator, the one who hunted and stalked, rather than himself; because he’d be shameless and wanton and incredulous. Even more than now, with his smug grin and delighted ease – muscles undulating through the volley of movement, long limbs like pistons across the terrain of grass.
The confusion on her face had him laughing all over again, and he couldn’t despair the clods of sand arching over his head or snagging at his calves. “I have no doubt!” he harkened back in devilish decree; promises of potential across carnal exploits and devotions – utilizing the lake nearby to toss her another brief wave, raining over a shower of cascading droplets.
And then, simply to add to the antics, he elongated the grass around him, towering, towering, towering, given enough time he would’ve forged his own labyrinth for sheer amusement - until he seemed hidden and tucked away into the denizens – inviting her to stray closer.
The confusion on her face had him laughing all over again, and he couldn’t despair the clods of sand arching over his head or snagging at his calves. “I have no doubt!” he harkened back in devilish decree; promises of potential across carnal exploits and devotions – utilizing the lake nearby to toss her another brief wave, raining over a shower of cascading droplets.
And then, simply to add to the antics, he elongated the grass around him, towering, towering, towering, given enough time he would’ve forged his own labyrinth for sheer amusement - until he seemed hidden and tucked away into the denizens – inviting her to stray closer.
the ressurected sword
