ardent

woe is (you and) me

Absi



Yarrabelle

The Syndicate
Ghazi

Expert Fighter (225)

Beginner Intellectual (0)

age
2 Years
gender
Female
gems
42
size
Large
build
Heavy
posts
103
player
MalBelle
03-17-2024, 06:47 PM

Absinth is angry, Yarra can see it, but her lover tries to temper that anger in favour of soothing Yarra’s aches. her touch is like a balm, her kiss relaxing the knotted tension in Yarra’s frame. Yarra’s eyes flutter shut against the world, letting Absi monopolise her every sense, to roll over like a wave. with the two of them pressed together like this, it’d be so easy to just release this tendril of wakefulness, let it slide away and fall back into oblivion. she’s quickly losing the battle with her own consciousness.  Absi’s features swirl at the forefront of her vision, blacks and whites and brilliant green eyes at its centre. Yarra grapples to sink her claws within that fur, to pull the fae impossibly closer and bury her nose in her scruff. inhale her scent like it might soothe the pain pulsing through her in tremulous ripples.

she wants to tell her now. needs to. it’s dancing across her tongue, teetering on the precipice in maddening circles. Yarra’s eyes slam shut as a headache bursts at her temples, biting down on her bottom lip so hard blood fills her mouth. she won’t cry out, won’t give voice to that pain. she’s not so far gone that she can’t still restrain herself. her eyes peel back open, every blink slow and heavy, and through the blur of pain Absi’s face warps further, twists into strange shapes. Yarra frowns, shaking herself to clear her mind, but the longer she looks at Absinth the more she changes. a second face wobbles in her peripheral, white and red-eyed, and, as Yarra sways between separate planes of consciousness, the faces overlap. red settles over green. black peaks through a maelstrom of white. something is rising within her mind, lifting higher and higher, buoying above this red cloud of pain –

“your father,” Yarra whispers, voice cracking in the middle. “he was…here.” the words sap away the last of her strength, and sleep rushes in to claim her on swift black wings.

"Speech"
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1. woe is (you and) me Lover's Mangrove 03:46 AM, 02-08-2024 12:37 PM, 05-15-2024