𝐴STRAY . . . & met midst windswept pine by a she-wolf with territorial tongue, veiled in doe's guise. rain streams down his destrier’s flank, glistens dew drop'd upon the prince's lashes. air lain with heavy plumes of storm mist, cradled in forest's belly, beset by fragrant tang of brine, cedar, dusk petrichor.
⊱ ❛ strangers don't last very long around here . ❜ ┊ @putrideer
⸻ nor, evidently, does his retinue, the lack thereof at his lone pitch-cloaked back. how clear her proud cadence reigns through the wind's howl. the young dragon rears his snout, tilts jawbone, blinks away the wet of the tempest & sets eyes upon her ( one tinted vague memory of cerulean firmament, the other as dark & earthy as the tangled wood that shrouds them. ) ❛ and yet here you are warning me. ❜ or promising ? lilt comes placid, laced nary with effrontery but honest observance. ❛ are all stormlanders apt to greet their guests like hunted animals ? ❜
