angrim

   ⠀ID:  ⟮ @palfreys ⟯ 
            ⠀⠀⠀⠀┈┈┈─
            
            if i don’t cling to you, it’s “lena” this, “lena” that. but if i do, then it’s “milena.”     *her arms fold a little tighter around his shoulders. the distance between them is gone now. he carries her anyway, despite her insisting she could manage on her own. truthfully, her right leg isn’t nearly as troublesome as his left shoulder. she feels the wince hidden beneath each measured breath he draws, every careful step carrying them closer to the cabin. the realization settles heavily inside her. instead of pulling away, milena edges nearer, resting her nose in the crook of his neck. despite the sheen of sweat glinting along his scruffy jaw, she brushes against him anyway, drawing in a slow breath. the scent of cedar, rain, and worn leather settles warmly in her lungs, and for reasons she refuses to examine too closely, it eases something restless inside her.*
            
            which is it, hmm?     *her breath ghosts across the curve of his cheek while she studies him from where she rests. there is amusement in her eyes, though it comes softened by the ache lingering in her leg and the quiet concern she refuses to voice.*    or are we back to the silent treatment, pretending i don’t exist?
            
            *the question is meant only to tease him, yet the words linger longer than she intends. perhaps because there is a grain of truth buried beneath them. she swallows quietly, her fingers absentmindedly smoothing the crease of his collar before she tips forward and leaves the lightest kiss against the roughness of his cheek, lingering there only long enough for the warmth of his skin to reach her lips.*
            
            /  OYEEE DOUBLE DARE THAA YAAR cmon 

⠀⠀ ⠀ ╱    DO NOT.      iswearifyoudoiwillmakeitrainhailonyou.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ╱      keep it up and he might end up throwing her in the pit. 

⠀⠀ ⠀ ╱      cause i’m the og master when it comes to creation. (;

⠀⠀ ⠀ ╱        so, i’m debating between now and then. 

   ⠀ID:  ⟮ @palfreys ⟯ 
            ⠀⠀⠀⠀┈┈┈─
            
            *milena presses her hands together, forming a binding circle. the sigil returns, hovering faintly without touch. she steps into it on breath alone, moving through the boundary of spirit and flesh. she pushes against the peril of death clinging to wülfric, and feels it answer her in turn. claws strike. they cut her. blood spills, warm against her palm. years of practice and falling have made her stubborn. at the final turning of the spell, she opens her arms in something like surrender, something like prayer, and the hawk comes. then the rider follows. the tree line fractures behind her. the spell collapses in a shattering eclipse of control. the spirit of death recoils, fleeing back into whatever dark it came from. and there, clear as daylight [..] she sees him. she runs again. laughter spilling free from her lips.*
            
            /  aa pyaar kare bindas, aa pyaar kare bindas, aa pyaar kare bindas, aa pyaar kare bindas, oh pardesi, tune dil mein jage bana li, tu hai yaara total, total time pass LOOOOOOL am having too much fun with this 

   ⠀ID:  ⟮ @palfreys ⟯ 
            ⠀⠀⠀⠀┈┈┈─
            
            *he sounds tired, worn thin by the staple of wars outside her realm. patience, once woven like thread, runs brittle now. milena swallows it down, the courtly rush of adrenaline thick in her blood. invisibility is the bold move, a devout trick of old magic. she moves inward, running along shadowed veils between the trees. she misses the sound of his voice. or she has. which is it? the missing then or now? she asks herself, but the answer hides somewhere between her glistening palms. the chase gives her a ruduric high*   say it again.
            
            *she knows she shouldn’t be edging him on. but there is a score to settle, and a list of grievances waiting to be judged. the scent of her hound trails behind her like omen, thick and wrong in the air, and she tastes something like death on the wind. she slows once, pressing herself behind a large oak. the forest hums with life, vibrant and unknowing, but as the veil shifts, that green warmth thins into something older, colder, stripped of its softness.*

⠀⠀⠀    ⠀⠀ ⠀[⠀⠀⠀    ⠀⠀ DEATH HAD ENTWINED ITSELF WITHIN HIS BONES LIKE THE CLAWS OF SIGIL MAGIC. EVERY BATTLE AT THE GATE OF EDEN, EVERY STRIKE AGAINST THE HOUNDS HAD DRAWN STRENGTH FROM HIM. wulfric’s shoulders shook as he dragged his boots across the earth. the fumes were strange, not of osburne soil. yet he knew the silhouette that haunted the treeline;                 it had been carved into his dreams, an omen that refused to fade. the closer he pressed through the trees, the harder it became to tell past from present. the scent of the hound clung to him, metallic and gold, and he watched it stir to life helplessly. agitation coiled through him, cornering him in his own skin.                     he wore the remnants of his command attire: black leather lined with sigil woven plating, the edges scorched from battle. a cloak hung from his shoulders, heavy with rain and ash. upon his wrist gleamed a device wrought of old world craft and new age artifice, its glass face pulsing faintly with a moving light. each flicker drew him nearer. ⠀⠀⠀    ⠀⠀ ]
            
            ⠀⠀⠀    do not test my patience, lena,       [⠀⠀⠀    ⠀⠀ he said, voice low, the words cutting through the mist. the watch chimed, and he turned toward the signal. his chest rose and fell, his lips pressed thin. the world around him blurred into noise; only the rustle of leaves and the scent of rain remained. his boots struck the moss laden ground, and he moved faster, the sound of his breath merging with the storm. ⠀⠀⠀    ⠀⠀ ]