Private Summer Wine [M]
- Thread starter Walter Thornley
- Start date
"You must have a type, so many sirens in these woods. At least you do sound like you've few regrets over the encounter." Walter murmured. Moved under the fingers on his spine, to prolong the caress. Once fingers ventured to his ribs, though, he twitched, caught the offending hand, stroked the outer side of the palm with the thumb, and simply pressed it there. "The purple ones taste any different?"
He hummed, breathing growing deeper. A question back had him inhale through his nose, hold it for a moment, thinking, before offering,
"Pomegranates. They don't grow well in Bremen's climate. Too rainy... Cherries, the small ones that are slightly sour. Apples. Hm... most poultry or meat in a proper stew, with... whatever spices Anthea is using. Pig leg on a spit, where the skin grows hard without charring, and the meat underneath gets tender and juicy. Some spice. Then... fortified and sweet wines."
Hand wrapped around the shoulder, and grew still. He kept the right one pressed against the abdomen and loosely wrapped around himself, if only to keep it out of mind.
"Hm, making myself hungry." A chuckle. "Will keep that until autumn comes. Should be plenty game in Bremen for the season. Finally shooting something that's..." A yawn. "I'll just drowse a little... but wake me up, someone has to keep vigil during the witching hour. Visit Bremen someday, would you? Not at night, that is."
He hummed, breathing growing deeper. A question back had him inhale through his nose, hold it for a moment, thinking, before offering,
"Pomegranates. They don't grow well in Bremen's climate. Too rainy... Cherries, the small ones that are slightly sour. Apples. Hm... most poultry or meat in a proper stew, with... whatever spices Anthea is using. Pig leg on a spit, where the skin grows hard without charring, and the meat underneath gets tender and juicy. Some spice. Then... fortified and sweet wines."
Hand wrapped around the shoulder, and grew still. He kept the right one pressed against the abdomen and loosely wrapped around himself, if only to keep it out of mind.
"Hm, making myself hungry." A chuckle. "Will keep that until autumn comes. Should be plenty game in Bremen for the season. Finally shooting something that's..." A yawn. "I'll just drowse a little... but wake me up, someone has to keep vigil during the witching hour. Visit Bremen someday, would you? Not at night, that is."
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He slept deeply for less than an hour. Then, his breath changed, and Walter rolled onto his back, still asleep. Less steady, inhale, shiver, exhale, his form lumbered over onto the other side.
"Aedisch'fe omiat uss eteflo." A whisper, lower than the breath. "No... no."
Gloved digits dug into the wool, crumpled the fabric, legs squirmed, rubbing against one another, face almost smothering against the ground. "No..." Another inhale, short, like a whimper, and he fell quiet again.
What remained was not a peaceful rest. Though he managed not to buck into Laric, legs would move, restless, and his form would sink into itself, seek to wrap himself into the edge of the cloak more, fingers cold, breath shallow. Behind the spine's column, his heart drummed heavily beneath the ribcage.
Stop, he pleaded with someone, please wait. Under the shallow breaths, sweat a thin veil on the side of the neck.
Quiet, again, for hours, not answering to anything, still.
He woke quietly. A deeper breath. Eyes opened, staring at the cloak and blades of grass his night-time tussling curled closer to his face. A minute to get thoughts together. Pale hand rubbing at the eyes as he sat up, fixed the raven's nest of hair that was sticking out every which way. A look over the shoulder, seeking his companion without focus. Expecting to find no one there, the long abandoned imprint where he'd slept, some tracks of presence from before.
Found him, against expectation.
There was a light to weary, woe-lined features. An awkward smile.
A grimace - oh goodness his back ached something strong for this kind of weather. No shiver, though, a strange thing as he rose to collect his clothes. Putting them on would be peculiar, after all the night's events - but he'd been rougher.
"You should come to Bremen, when you can." An offering of peace, but a bit of distance as he needed to gather his thoughts, logic lagging behind the shame of satisfaction. Made it hard to look Laric in the eye. "If you want to."
A long ride home awaited.
[END]
"Aedisch'fe omiat uss eteflo." A whisper, lower than the breath. "No... no."
Gloved digits dug into the wool, crumpled the fabric, legs squirmed, rubbing against one another, face almost smothering against the ground. "No..." Another inhale, short, like a whimper, and he fell quiet again.
What remained was not a peaceful rest. Though he managed not to buck into Laric, legs would move, restless, and his form would sink into itself, seek to wrap himself into the edge of the cloak more, fingers cold, breath shallow. Behind the spine's column, his heart drummed heavily beneath the ribcage.
Stop, he pleaded with someone, please wait. Under the shallow breaths, sweat a thin veil on the side of the neck.
Quiet, again, for hours, not answering to anything, still.
He woke quietly. A deeper breath. Eyes opened, staring at the cloak and blades of grass his night-time tussling curled closer to his face. A minute to get thoughts together. Pale hand rubbing at the eyes as he sat up, fixed the raven's nest of hair that was sticking out every which way. A look over the shoulder, seeking his companion without focus. Expecting to find no one there, the long abandoned imprint where he'd slept, some tracks of presence from before.
Found him, against expectation.
There was a light to weary, woe-lined features. An awkward smile.
A grimace - oh goodness his back ached something strong for this kind of weather. No shiver, though, a strange thing as he rose to collect his clothes. Putting them on would be peculiar, after all the night's events - but he'd been rougher.
"You should come to Bremen, when you can." An offering of peace, but a bit of distance as he needed to gather his thoughts, logic lagging behind the shame of satisfaction. Made it hard to look Laric in the eye. "If you want to."
A long ride home awaited.
[END]