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[longwillows]

reach out?

the smell of fresh water in dry desert air. the feeling of cautious curiosity. a place as dangerous as it is resplendent.

c

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[pointedlook]

[ Despite his reiteration, he can't bring himself to feel frustrated by Kalmiya's near-paranoid triple checking. For one, she's very recently been through an ordeal like none other. For two, she normally didn't need such reassurances. She'd learned to handle herself, measure out her confidence, and give her trust when it was warranted.

The encounter with Sleep had thrown all of that into disarray. While she didn't seem to be on the verge of a crisis, she was still getting back up on wobbly legs; a newborn foal, beginning the process of walking on her own all over again. Judging from the shift in her body language, though, he thinks that she's well on her way. There's mischief in her expression, in the languid swish of her tails, the familiar curve of her mouth. ]

Well, you know me, I'm willing to be patient. [ He says, tone warm with amusement–sometimes it was fun to push buttons. ]

But–[ Leaning forward, he catches the slide of her foot on the hardwood floor, slowly dragging his palm up the bridge of it to loosely curl around a delicate ankle. All the while, he doesn't turn his gaze away from hers, angling it upwards as he continues. ]–if you're offering a rush job, I could hardly say no.

[longwillows]

[His amusement encourages her little smile into a toothy grin. Even with the tether in a weakened state, it shakes with her excitement—as do her tails, their sway becoming a full-on wag. His palm is met with a slight and sudden tensing of her tendons as it alights on her foot, which relaxes as his hand moves upward to circle his fingers around her ankle.

(In tandem with the bloom of supernatural heat beneath her skin, the faint and brief sensation of a tickle passes over the psychic connection.)

She keeps his gaze steadily, irises shimmering with iridescence in her delight.] I'm always happy to shuffle you to the top of my priority list.

[Delicately she bends at the waist to reach down to him. The points of her claws and pads of her fingertips are both gentle as they brush down the side of his face, over the hollow of his cheek and down, where her thumb settles in the shallow dimple of his chin. She's captivated by the resulting warmth, a comforting taste of what their tether used to be.] As long as you don't spread word about my favoritism, of course.