sonder winter 1710

Hurting Me Hurting You


Lieutenant

from Rionnach
age
2 years old
gender
Male
size
Medium
scent
Balsalm and Cedar
supporting
Royalist
home
Yorkshire
threadlog
encounters
writer
Lunar

He was alone, completely and utterly alone now. The one he had followed the trail of footsteps had deserted him. Retiring from the very thing the younger male had been so avid on channeling into himself, to be the very thing his father and grandfather had been. Heat flared up his throat and out of his nostrils, feeling wholly scrapped by the rest of his family that hid in the north despite their allegiance not even being with the man that ruled it now. It boiled him alive from the inside though it hardly showed on his face as he brushed off his new badge, one awarded for his efforts in the war. He had no one to rejoice in his accomplishments with, to praise him that mattered by any standard and he could feel the cold steel of gazes by those he barely knew not approving of him gaining rank. Those that only saw him as a Highlander brood, spit at his feet and told him to go home, he wasn’t welcome.

He would never be welcome.

A sneer pulled at his lips, glaring into the twisting flames of a setting sun to strain past the tears of his sister that haunted his thoughts. He had never liked to see her cry and he had been the cause of it.

Not like he could change that. As far as he was concerned fate had already been decided and his fate hung on another that perhaps did not know it yet as he looked for a different woman among fallen cobble and dehydrated roots blanketed in a thin layer of snow.

Would she have deserted him as well? Pretty commoner princesses lacking any rule except the spices and those cursed ruby gems that thrived to entrap him. He much rather ensnare her first before she could take his breath away and make him bow to her but first, he had to find her. Carve her out of the stone left in the wake of this destruction until she was pure perfection so he may lace her forever at his side and stop her from being the next rodent to throw him aside like scrap.

As if to play with his very thoughts a flutter of marigold would dance into his vision, making everything else around him look lacking in color. He would prowl, watching her for a few long moments as he stalked her as though she was nothing more than prey. Where he had wanted her dissociated from him last that he saw her, such a notion was unimportant now as not a single coworker lingered near to judge his choices in company.

Rushing forward, he was only fueled by what he wanted and the frustration that constricted his veins all morning long. In one quick motion he would capture her, so long as she did not try to dodge him. Hoping to take her by surprise with intent to trap her onto her back between his stems, emeralds earnestly sought those rubies as his head lowered toward hers.

Art by Ulfarna | Coding by Plymouth
01-25-2024, 03:34 AM

Spice Trader

from Rionnach
age
3 years old
gender
Female
size
Small
scent
Ginger & Citrus
supporting
Undecided
threadlog
encounters
writer
claerie




Sakura stared down at a piece of cobblestone, the rubble so much like a stone and yet wholly unfamiliar to her. Her homeland did not have blocks such as these, nor did they have the crumbling structures that seemed to rise up as if small mountains threatening to cage the sky. It made her long for the thick fields of bamboo and the smooth, dark stones covered in velvety moss. Her heart even ached for the delicate silhouettes of koi within the ponds kept within the central province from which she hailed.

Thinking of home reminded her of her familial duty—of the one in which she expanded their spice trade, bringing more than just honor onto the Myoga name. Trading with the west would open up such wealth that they would grow fat on milk and honey. And she and her brother could at last be worthy of advantageous marriages. Of course, she was rapidly becoming a spinster. Another year and she would be an overripened fruit. Hinata, however, could marry well into his adulthood.

But Hinata was in the north. He had fought against the crown, joining the insurrectionists. She imagined he'd been fueled by revenge over seeing her impressed into military service. Idiot, she thought, using the term in her native tongue. Yet, oddly, she felt her heart ache for him in a way that it hadn't seen they'd been children. Was war what it took for her to remember him fondly?

Sighing, she looked at the mountains in the distance. She should join him in the north. There was no chance that he would come south again. But... the thought of starting her stall over from scratch was terrible, especially with their contacts having no way to get into Saora without traversing through Rionnach first. That and... well... there was someone she had yet to see.

If she left, she would probably never see him again.

It didn't matter that he hadn't spared her a look when she'd been forced into the barracks as an interim medic. As much as it had hurt her to not exist for him then, she'd found some solace in Sethos and her own sense of duty. Besides, he had been focused on the war. It must have been terrifying to know that he would soon fight and face death. Was he a captain now? Even higher? Sakura's ear twitched and she closed her eyes.

When she opened them, she decided it was time to carry on. Hopefully as she journeyed, she would soon find the border and at last make her choice. Rising to her paws, she began to make her way, careful and quick—but not carefully or quickly enough.

The air left her lungs as she was suddenly collided with. There was no protest from her as she was rolled onto her back and pinioned by white legs—and emerald eyes. For several moments, Sakura just stared up at him, her eyes wide.

Then, despite herself, she felt the pinpricks of tears. "You... you came looking for me?" Sakura asked, ignoring the pain in her shoulder and spine from the impact with the ground.

When had she mattered enough to anyone for her to be found? To be looked for?

"the stars have melted to become your crown."


art & table ☓ bunny
(This post was last modified: 02-11-2024, 08:47 PM by Sakura.)
02-11-2024, 08:46 PM

Lieutenant

from Rionnach
age
2 years old
gender
Male
size
Medium
scent
Balsalm and Cedar
supporting
Royalist
home
Yorkshire
threadlog
encounters
writer
Lunar

He had not expected her to be such an easy catch but as she buckled under him and fell into his control so easily, a wave of euphoria washed over him. The roguish smile pulled at his lips, curling his pale muzzle upwards in probably the warmest smile he had ever worn in a year or two. The way her eye looked up at him would cause his head to tilt, not finding her surprise to be all that alluring but it was better than fear peering up at him. Taking in a long breath, he would draw in her scent, lowering his head down little by little as his gaze never broke from her. That acidic sweetness never fully left his senses no matter how long they were apart for, sometimes wrapped in it even as he fell to the caress of slumber. Forever a phantom, one he couldn’t seem to fully erase from his mind, no matter how much he wanted to.

Just as his muzzle was a hair's breadth away from brushing hers, he would notice the shimmer of tears filling the rim of her eyes and it would cause him to hesitate. So many seemed to cry around him as of late and though he told himself he didn’t care, it would cause his ears to preen back a little in concern before tipping forward in more so curiosity as his gaze scanned her tears for answers as to why she would be suddenly shriveling up. Where his sister’s tears had made him cringe, Sakura was simply all the more beautiful as it brought all the more color to those rubies.

That smile turned more into a smirk at her words while an aired laugh puffed from his nostrils to the absurdity of her question, not at all taking into consideration of her feelings all this time he had avoided encounter after encounter with her every time he caught sight of marigold or caught a fragrance at all full of those familiar herbs she exuded. Work had been his prime focus, but that focus was wavering in his craving for her.

That selfishness would not allow him any thought in how he spoke or how she might take it as he lowered his head to growl possessively in her ear. “I will always seek what is mine, Sakura,” his breath said with a husky depth, his breath a gentle warm breeze against her delicate skin. That confidence that had been missing in the past encounters was far bolder this time as his head raised enough to meet her eyes, burning into them fiercely before lowering once more to sap away the brine before it could ruin her cheek fur. Tasting her.

Art by Ulfarna | Coding by Plymouth
Yesterday, 01:35 PM
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