Closed Warren Peace

Zhol and Khara are accosted in the warrens.

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The westernmost tip of Kalea, Wind Reach is home to an amazing group of people and their giant eagle mounts. [Lore]

Warren Peace

Postby Zhol on June 23rd, 2015, 2:34 pm

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Perhaps it was the relatively dim light of the tunnels, the extra strain that placed on his eyes as he tried to see. Yes, that was definitely it; that was the only possible explanation for why his eyes shimmered and glistened as he watched his wife, listening to her speak. A moment passed, filled with the swelling anticipation you felt just before you fell; and then he let himself fall, moving slowly towards her, his uninjured hand rising to cradle her cheek as he brought his lips to hers.

It began as something tentative, timid even, but as Zhol felt her lips against his the sensation overcame him. Moments passed, and his fingers found themselves in her hair, his other arm wrapping itself around her waist - bite forgotten - pulling her as close against him as he cloud. He grinned against her lips as he felt her arms find their familiar place settled around his shoulders, and leant into her more, teasing at her lower lip in between flurries of amorous kisses.

Slowly, gradually, eventually, the onslaught of affection began to fade, Zhol's lips straying from Khara's, his body pulling her into a tight embrace, a few lingering kisses settled against her cheek, her jawline, and her neck before his every effort focused itself on holding her close to him. "Thank you," he said quietly, letting his cheek nuzzle gently against hers.

He almost left it at that, almost left silence between them, wondering if Khara would be able to absorb everything he wanted to say just by touch, sparing him the challenge of finding words good enough to convey it aloud. Finally words crept out of him, a little more than a whisper. "I could not have a more perfect wife," he barely breathed. "Such a person does not exist."
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Warren Peace

Postby Khara on November 7th, 2015, 9:37 pm

Perfect was never a word that Khara would use to describe herself, save maybe for the context of perfectly average. When it came from Zhol, though? She wanted nothing more than to believe it. Okay, so maybe she was as far as could possibly be from the popular opinion of the word, and maybe she would never manage to step into filling the description within her own mind, but perfect for him? That should at least attempt to agree to, or strive for.

Becoming a huntress - an Avora - that was a monumental task, one that Khara still wasn't entirely certain she would ever achieve. Then again, she had never thought she would be much of anything aside from a friend to the man she was now married to. If one impossibility could be grasped, why not another? She had help now as well. Not in any conventional sense aside from giving her company when she practiced her archery and an ear to listen to her babble about some nuanced differences between animal tracks that she had just discovered, but just knowing that Zhol believed in her made all the difference. Khara could only hope that she had a similar effect on him.

She was unsure how to respond still, though. The comment still made her cheeks flush with color and she felt her arms tighten around his shoulders just a bit in reply. "And there is no one more perfecter for me than you," she softly spoke, finishing the line of thought that had tumbled in her own head.

An errant squeak past them that echoed through Wind Reach's caverns gave her pause. Something had unnerved the bats enough to cause them to take this path. Khara didn't know much about the flying animals, but she knew for certain this type of behavior wasn't exactly the normal. You didn't have swarms of bats in the warrens every day, after all. Maybe it was the recent quakes? There hadn't been one today though, had there? Maybe they just knew something that the Inarta didn't...

Khara forced herself to shake off the thought. It wasn't a mystery she could solve, anyway. Wind Reach and Mount Skyinarta were active things, almost living in their own way, trying to unravel their mysteries were far beyond the likes of her no matter how much they intrigued her at times. Besides, she had other things - another person - who should have been taking up all her mind's activity right then.

As she let her fingertips brush against Zhol's neck, shoulders, and arms on their trailing way down to his hands, Khara gently pulled away from their embrace. "Why do we not return to our room? Maybe you can show me what you learned today and I can try and help you relax as well?"
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Warren Peace

Postby Zhol on November 7th, 2015, 9:57 pm

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She tried to pull away from him. Zhol felt entitled to little - nothing, really - from her; he harboured no demands or expectations of what she should not do. Yet in moments like this, his heart screamed in protest; and in times of weakness, his body acted to thwart them no matter how resolute his morality was.

His lips chased after her, not a frantic or overly passionate kiss; but though the caress of his lips against hers was gentle, there was an urgency to it, an almost pleading undertone, begging her not to stray so quickly from his arms. He was not ready for them to be empty again; he had not steeled himself against the agony that was any moment of existence where he did not feel the weight of her leaning against him, or could not gaze with ease into her eyes. He was not ready to navigate the world, rather than holding her close and pretending that everything beyond his arms did not exist. It was not a fear of losing her: he knew that with enough patience, he would survive until she returned to his embrace; but it was a painful discomfort, one that demanded considerable strength of will to ready himself for.

Satisfied that his kisses had rooted Khara in place for a few moments longer, he allowed their lips to part, his forehead coming to rest against hers, voice lowered to a bare whisper. "All I need to relax is you beside me," he explained, as if he spoke the most obvious of truths. Granted, the techniques that he had learned were more about physical stress than emotional; but no amount of exertion at the stables could inflict anything that a warm bath and the company of his beloved could not fix.

It took a moment for Zhol to realise where his hand had naturally fallen; it was a cruel trap of Inarta fashion that whenever he placed his arms around Khara, he found himself in tantalising contact with her bare skin. He could not contain the impulse for his fingers to gently caress against it, nor the faint flicker of an almost forbidden smile that crept onto his lips.

"Perhaps there is more that I can do with these techniques though, once we are behind closed doors and I have you all to myself."
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...
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Carry on, wayward son.
 
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