continued from here.
“It is almost done. Hush.”
The afternoon warmth danced over bare skin and burrowed under fabric. It was balmy and cosy; if it wasn’t for his concentration, he might’ve felt the allure to simply bask in the sun’s smile to be nigh overwhelming.
Indeed, he was busy. Very important business, you see …
Erosandros’ deft fingers worked; weaving and twisting flaxen tresses, melding them with the stubby, narrow stalks of the white blossoms to form a pretty, floral garland in Briengr’s mane. He endeavoured to keep his touches light, his tugs gentle, by virtue of how Briengr wriggled and winced if he were any harder.
“If you ruin my work, I will snap your neck.”
Even though violence bloated his words, he smiled. There was no true intent lurking behind that light tone. He was well aware that the full moon anxiously awaited for night to fall; tonight, Hircine’s favour would ripple across the province, howls would fill the sky and bloodshed would darken the dirt. Those who were blessed by a city’s tall wreathe of wood and stone might even be oblivious this particular monthly occurrence—but anyone who travelled the roads, lived more nomadically, would be well aware: the lycanthropes would reign, tonight. They knew to fear these nights.
@sunxdusk.