The Princess And The Casanova
07-17-2014, 11:26 AM
A northern night just as the one in which he had met his friend, Misha. Snow swirled around in Earth's gentle breath. The clouds framed the moon, careful not to mask her presence. He sat down on the borderlands of the S.S. Antiox and gazed down at the scene from a hill. Winter looked up at the stars and thought about his and Misha's first conversation. He told her how he felt about the stars, but this time he simply silently asked the stars to watch down over his friend and protect her from fear. To light her path and never leave her alone. Perhaps he missed her and this is why he traveled back to this place. In hopes of her being here also, though, he was sure she had returned back to her pack. But why did that bother him so? It gnawed at his insides unforgivably. He did not like the idea of not being by her side. Perhaps absent really does make the heart grow fonder. Winter took a deep breath and let out a sigh. Surely he, wanderer of Alacritis, would not let a wolf make him feel such a way. Surely this too would pass and he would soon forget her just as he forget the rest. As time passed a figure entered the lands below from behind the trees on the borders. He watched carefully as the creature sat down on the cold earth next to the vessel. Winter was going to turn and walk away before whoever it was noticed his presence; however, he had found himself moving in the direction the creature rested. As he drew closer a familiar frame came into view. It was, without a doubt, his friend Misha. A shiver of excitement coursed throughout his body. Oh how we wanted to pounce on her and playfully nip her in excitement; however, instead he paused before announcing his presence. Winter sat a good distance from her, his head hung low and he closed his emerald eyes. For if he cared for her, the best thing would be to vanish into the trees in which rested behind him. Vanish and never return allowing her to share her friendship and life with somebody who could offer her so much more than he. For he was a rogue, a heart breaker, and one who simply could not be trusted. Winter was secretly controlled by his own fear. Fear of being alone and being in love. He feared being controlled and being seen unworthy. Though, these were the truths, he would never allow himself to admit it. A voice called out. Her voice. It sung out his nickname. Ah how he loved how her words wrapped around each syllable of "Casanova." With such a beautiful, soft plea he would never forgive himself for not answering. I'm here for you. . . Winter waited patiently, still sitting a good distance behind her, for his Princess to answer. Speech Thought |
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