[ Post a Response | Desreal ]
Posted by B R U T U S on October 6, 2008, 11:56 pm, in reply to "BRUTUS, it wasn't your burden to bear."
68.108.158.210
{ et tu, Brute? }
The sun was setting in a brilliant display of reds, golds, and violets. It is as if the very powers of life and death are playing a hand in today, bringing the two together by, as Genesis so aptly put it, the gentle pulling of their strings. Though his heart was aching, his body sore from wanton need, his mind strained by simple and excruciating loneliness... in this moment, Brutus finds his peace. He is again the newcomer on the horizon, the lone runner on the beach, and in whatever hushed moments he can find with his lover, Brutus finds solace.
He is almost unfeeling until she touches her, the gentle brush of her lips against him all the warmth against an arctic of cold. He shivers for a moment, reaching as he had so many familiar times before to allow his warm tongue to bath her wounds, washing away the angry red stains that were left behind by the wolves and demons that plagued Solira. Perhaps in that respect, it is a good thing that Brutus had taken his leave, for surely he could not have survived such a beating in his fragile state. But though his body grows weaker, his mind is ever sharp and intact... apparently moreso than hers, and as she recounts a tale of misplacd memories he sighs a bit crestfallen.
Starting over was not an entirely unpleasing thought, for if anything, Brutus relished the opportunity to reaquaint himself with the warrior queen. Fallen warrior queen? What's the difference, really? Her words sting him, and though there is an obvious hint of disdain edging his lips at the mention of his present advesary (for this could be the only way to describe the creature that stole him away from all he knew), he does not chide Genesis for her past. Instead, there is a simple sigh released against the warmth of her mane, and he steps back slowly to look over her every inch and curve.
She mentioned Aquila, and though he himself had never met her daughter, the name stuck firmly in his mind. Yes, she had spoken of the young female before... but who she was today, he couldn't be certain. Apparently, he'd find out. Another mention of another child is given, and for a moment Brutus feels a twinge of jealous regret... regret that the two had not consumated a child of their love together... but then - they had all the time in the world. For now, the silvered beast was content to simply wait in her presence, daring not to speak for now, afraid to break the moment they shared.
Always the leader, never the watcher. Do not trouble yourself so, my Genesis. His eyes follow hers, resting solumnly on the sinking mango daystar as a sigh of deep regret whistles through his lips. Though his eyes swim in an ocean of sadness, he lifts her chin gently with the bridge of his nose, eyes watching her calmly and with a twinkle of a smile, a whisper of affection. Do not fear the darkness... for without it, we are simple shells of our true character. With the night comes the promise of another day to come, and of course, we cannot forget that we share the same moon...
He rubs against her once, the fragrant scent of her clinging to his own frame as he attempts to hold it forever - to bring him through the dark times to the light once more. Keep the faith, love. And take better care of yourself. Seeing you in pain just kills me... and I'm getting too old for such a scare. Offering her a gentle smile, he nods solumly to the sea, whispering a hint of a prayer before he turns, a saddened beast once more, though lifted on the hope that love would see them through.
Keep a weather eye on the horizon, love.
Prisoner in Andarin
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