Samanayrs

Rustle stopped in front of him and held out the arrow to him, her eyes bright as ever. "I am glad that you can admit faults, it takes alot of couyrage to do that, it's quite admiyrable." Innocently she bobbed her head and moved back to his side, stretching out like a cat might. Slowly she lowered her head some. "I don't yreally have any talents, nothing that would stand out.." Her eyelids drooped as the willow leaves started to flutter over and hide the less bright blues. But barely a moment later she lifted her head and beamed at him. "I'm suyre if I eveyr tyried something like that I'd be falling on my face all the time! I would expect it to take alot of pyractice..."

His violet eyes got wider as he stared at her, ears pricking forward under forest-green antlers, flame-like forelock laying against his face, as his look turned tender for a moment when she looked down. He had started to lean down so he could brush his muzzle to the little tree crowning her forehead, jerking some when she raised her head again, ears back in embarrassment, as he plastered on a brighter look.
"It's hayrd to leayrn the balance... that's the woyrst bit. But I could teach you!" He blurted out, and bit his lip. Why would she want to learn something like that? Most mares found hunting stupid. He glanced shyly down. "That is, if you want." He glanced up and murmured. "But you... you alyready have a ton of good tyraits about you. Lots of talents... they'yre just a bit diffeyrent."

She blinked at him at the offer, not realizing what he had just been about to do. "Really?" Her long tail perked up with excitement as she blinked at him. "I don't have to huyrt anything... yright?" Rustle blinked once again and then pushed her ears forward, carefully pawing with one cloven hoof. "What kind of talents?" She finally asked after a moment of thought. She tilted her head to the side, so that the leaves of her little tree and her forelock would stay out of her face as she studied him.

"Of couyrse! You neveyr have to huyrt anything. pyromise." He nodded wildly, eager to get the chance to spend more time with the alluring little naiad and her bright voice and cheery expressions. His pale muzzle wrinkled and twitched with excitement as he bounced a bit, flicking his tail more so, before going stock still when she asked him the question. Oh... he hadn't thought he'd have to speak! It wasn't that he had just said it to be nice, but it was hard to actually speak the words. "I.... well... you'yre..." He shrunk back some, looking confused and embarrassed.

(ITS SO SHORT *shrieks and runs in a circle*)

Rustle beamed again, "Oh gyreat! I wouldn't be able to huyrt anything... It would be too mean!" It made her feel happy at the excitement she brought the stallion when she said her bit, lifting her head a bit higher. She bobbed her neatly coloured head and blinked up at him thoughtfully when he went still. "It's okay, you don't have to tell me this time," Rustle shrugged brightly, quite neatly implying that they were, yes of course, to meet again.

(*smashes keyboard* WRITE MOAR)

He snorted softly at her words, not cruelly, more amusedly. "What if you were in dangeyr? Could you huyrt something that was huyrting you or a fyriend?" His eyes were curious, not trying to put her on the spot, as his pale skinned muzzle crinkled up ruefully. He flashed her a grin before going quiet again, looking down and swishing his flame-like tail, branches creaking some like the wind was moving them, and not muscle.

"You byring life and light into a conveyrsation. You ayre sweeteyr than a spyring byreeze with its bounty of nectayr and blossom-scent. You cayrry a sense of seyrenity (I HAD TOO!) that otheyrs would envy, since otheyrs only bleed woyrry and feayr. You are like a danceyr when you walk, gentle on the eyes and to the eayrth below you." The poetic words dripped off his tongue, each one perfectly sincere, but so odd-sounding, due to the curse of a love for ballads and too many times talking to himself. The hunter was a poet at times, and he froze in embarrassment as most of his feelings had just been hinted at by his running lips. He had spent far too much time alone, to not know not to speak so! His skin twitched and he started to step back, wanting to flee so he wouldn't have to watch as she laughed or gave him weird looks.

(FAIL)

Rustle slowly looked down for a second, pondering the question thoughtfully. "I would not like it, but it is unacceptable to huyrt my fyriends, so... if I, oyr a fyriend, weyre in dangeyr, then yes, I could." She looked back up at him, her eyes suddenly serious, different then her normally bright and supposedly carefree blues. Her ears slipped forward, focusing their soft points towards him as he spoke. He spoke oddly, though the words did seem to be that from the heart, not just spoken without true feeling. She liked that, she really did. Maybe he too had the tendency to speak without truly thinking when he spoke to others. It happened to her alot, though, she didn't talk to others outside her lam-dragonet family. Her gaze turned soft, eyes still in their oddly serious blues. Rustle felt like a little blossom being carried off into the big blue sky by a gently tugging wind.

"Pyride," she said quietly, almost a heated whisper. She lifted her head so that the gently caressing leaves on her little tree whispered and tumbled back. She shut her eyes for a moment, before slowly opening them as her pink tongue poked out to run over a lip. "That was... the sweetest thing anyone has eveyr said to me." Slowly she looked at him, almost shyly. "I'd undeyrstand if you don't... want to... meet... again." Rustles tail quivered. It wasn't that meeting him again would upset her. No, it wouldn't be that, she felt delighted at the thought of that. No, she felt the sudden flurry of feelings at the thought of having to depart from such an interesting, amusing, handsome stallion. Rustle stomped a cloven hind leg suddenly. "I want you to teach me how to do that. And I want to talk again. But I don't want to leave." Her ears quivered as they faced back. She tried to put on a tough face. Maybe he'd laugh at that, but she hoped he wouldn't.

His bright violet eyes were trained on her as she spoke, sincerely soaking up everything she had to say about his question. He liked how her pebbled-like face tilted to the side as she spoke her thoughts, and how those blue eyes popped, bluer than a summer sky or larkspur during May. Silvery-green leaves whispered and swayed like a dancer, and his larger deeper green leaves rustled in return as a tiny whisp of breeze brushed them. His ears were pricked forward, trying not to smile, not wanting her to feel like he was looking down on her, but rather that he was pleased by her reaction. She seemed so gentle and caring, a flash of worry stabbed at his heart, what if someone tried to harm her? He wouldn’t ever let her have that chance to hurt something, he’d protect her from any danger… what was he thinking? He snorted softly in his mind, mentally giving himself a kick in the head for being foolish. It was then that he had spoken for the second time, and he stood stock still.
He was trying to keep from running, though he desired to flee, before her sweet as honey voice scoffed or made some awkward comment. His cursed poet’s tongue had ruined everything! She would look at him as other’s did, and want to get away from him as soon as possible! His earthy coat shuddered and twitched when she spoke his name, closing his eyes tight as if not looking at her would help his situation. She looked pleased, and- could it be?- touched! When she spoke about him possibly wanting to leave, he practically jumped forward, about to let his poet’s nature free again, but the fluid words had left his tongue, his tongue now clumsy and fuzzy against like a hapless foal. His agitation grew the longer he didn’t interrupt, as he stared at her as a little change overcame the mare.
A little stubborn tough expression appeared on her face, as she spoke those words, making his heart soar like he thought only the hunt could do to him. He wanted to grin, and shyly look down, and rear up all at once, but he contented himself in murmuring a soft as the rustles of her willow. “No one said you had to go…”
A little impish twinkle entered his eyes as he bowed low suddenly, head tucked in before glancing up to wink at her. “Lady, I beg thee not to leave, if it would so incuyr youyr wyrath!” He shook once like it was a terrible thing, which, secretly to him, it was, because it meant she might not talk to him again if she was upset by him.

Rustle finally blinked at him slowly when he spoke first, listening to him as he said his last bit in a joking manner with a gleam in his purple eyes. She tilted her head some as she studied him. She wouldn't be mad, of that she knew, yes, just as the understanding came before, it would be sadness more like. Her soft and fine ears twitched at him as she thought, and moved little. What was he saying? Was it like a hidden way to ask her to say? Or was she truly thinking this up too much, which was an unlucky habit of hers. Suddenly Rustle sneezed, nearly taking off at the hidden force of the sweet and squeaky sneeze. Slowly she blinked, her eyes wide, as she glanced up at him, she opened her mouth to excuse her sneeze. "Then stay with me," she said instead, her blue eyes bright again, "You can stick around and be my best friend!"

He blinked his eyes slowly as his ears flicked and twitched contently, tail swishing more so. He bared his teeth in a shy grin, making a noise of amusement at her enthusiasm. “Alyright…. We can be best fyriends.” For some reason he felt a little nudge of… disappointment… in his stomach, he thought. It muddled him up, he should be happy, she was going to stay around with him, he should be ecstatic! But somehow as he studied that nymph-like form of grace and natural beauty, he wanted something… more. But that was too much to ask of her, whatever the odd feeling was, and he grinned and shook himself off, tail swishing more. He could be happy with this, right?

(FAIL OKAY IVE DONE A TON OF WRITING)

Rustle felt like a metallic taste had swept into her mouth after she said friends. She turned her head towards the river that they stood near, tipping her head so that the little willow would hide her puzzled look. Why, and how, could one simple, well that would be an understatement if ever she felt one, stallion get her into this much of a tizzy. "Um.. W-well... I was... going to soak... because I was hot... but..." Rustle glanced at him, almost nervously. Well now she'd really done it, worked herself into a mess with no clue what to do. "I-if you want to... to soak... we could... I mean we don't have to we can go and do otheyr things, too!" The last bit came out in a rush of words, something to say that wouldn't require her thought. Rustle's side twitched, as if a fly had landed on it. Something about the word friends and this stallion did not equate in her mind, he didn't seem like he'd be a friend. Though he definitely was not an enemy, her nose quivered as she looked up into his face with big eyes*

Pride was still grinning when the bright expression faded, blinking his violet eyes with a slightly confused expression at her looking away, her willow shielding her eyes, a curtain between him and her expressions. His face softened into an oddly gentle look, lips slack as he studied her, his belly muscles tightening and tail swishing like dancing flames. The earthen wings creaked softly, the leaves rustling as a few buds trembled, his bright eyes sliding over her form, jerking back up to her face when she spoke, swallowing quickly.
She sounded nervous, about as nervous as he had felt. His voice went oddly softe after she spoke with many pauses, saying smoothly. “I like… soaking…” His lips twitched curiously, glancing down slowly at the big eyes trained on him. “I’m… slow to speak… soyrry… but I’m happy to do anything, if you’yre by my side.” The last bit was bold, and he glanced up into her eyes as he said it.

Rustle twitched her ears around to point directly at him and catch all his words, staring up at him still, never once blinking. If you'yre by my side... That sounded nice to her. Rustle's stomach suddenly curled into a little tensed ball, her tail perking up to start a flicking cycle. Slowly she started to smile, looking delighted. Without commenting on the end, she shook her head. "You don't have to say soyrry! Theyre's no need!" Rustle turned and trotted to the water without waiting for him to catch up. In she went, wading deeper till the gentle current tugged her mane and tail and long tufts and covered her back, looking around at him with her eyes just sticking out above the watery line, holding her breath as she did.

Pride’s coat was twitching like a swarm of flies were about him, his tail swishing as well, feeling nervous and excited and oddly overjoyed all at the same time. He grinned again at her while his stomach flip-flopped at her bright expression, looking down again as she said he didn’t have to be sorry, pleased by her sweet tones being so kind to him.
He watched her walk into the water, well not walk, more so glide into the water, long silky mane waving behind her, flowers floating over the water like little lilypads behind her. She blended well with the stream, and he thought about how hard it would be to track her, despite feeling like he would know her and her scent anywhere.
He’d relish the challenge, but for now, he didn’t want to be apart. He turned and looped the bow and the quiver over a low branch and turned to slide into the stream after her, wings fanning out and baring his teeth with delight at the cool water’s flow against him, the water up to mid-neck.

Rustle lifted her nose back up out of the water and puffed out a breath, which sent little droplets of water that tried to clog her nose into the air. She watched him slide in, eyeing his leafy branch-wings stretch out as he bared his teeth. Rustle smiled, shifting up a bit so she wasn't in so deep, testing the pebbles under her as she did. The water felt amazing, but more so then usual. It tugged at her mane and tail, trying to get her to follow the endless flow out, back to where every flowing land water went.
But unlike her normal soaks, where she would sit, or lay, and stare up at the leaves, or down at the water and pebbles, her eyes turned towards the stallion who had joined her in her fun. Slowly Rustle took in a deep breath and slipped her muzzle into the water again. How was it that some Sam, one that she had only just met, could make her attention divide nearly wholly on him? Physically... he was brilliant. He even spoke sweetly, honest to his failures while learning to string and let fly his bow and arrow. Rustle lowered her ears some, letting them flop for a moment.
Was this one of those 'too good to be tyrue' moments? Pretending to be an amazing stallion instead of not? Rustle pawed, making a cloud of sand slip up and get caught in the soft current, which dispelled it and carried it away at the same time. Suddenly Rustle shook her head, a half of which was in the water, effectively spraying the stallion with the fresh clean water.

He walked carefully among the pebbles who surely thought it would be funny to slip out from under him and make him stumble and make him look silly, snorting at them as he managed to keep from sliding, his solid hooves sinking into a patch of muddier stream bottom, making a low noise as he did, snorting and lifting his hooves up so muddy streaks snaked through the water, lowering his head to blow bubbles in the water, much like a foal, caught up in the shining water, flicking his fiery tail to send diamond droplets flicking into the air. He was acting colt-like without thinking about it, not wanting to glance up and stare, as he knew he would if his eyes met with her form and sweet face.
She was like a Naiad, alluring like fresh spring blossoms, graceful as dandelions in the breeze, fresh as summer grass, with the cheerful spirit of a babbling stream. She was like the most graceful, beautiful, and blessed things in the forest all wrapped into one fun, sweet, lovely package. If he stared too long, his breath seemed to leave his lungs, and he didn’t mind.
He was brave, but often reckless and boastful when in front of other Samanayrs. He didn’t know how to act around them, so he threw up shields of pride and recklessness. But the more time he spent with her, the more he felt his softer side emerge, with fawn-like shyness. His ears flicked back down as he glanced back up, slowly saying without thinking. “Naiad, thou ayrt faiyreyr than the setting sun…” He had just finished murmuring his quiet sweet words when a wave of water struck him in the face, making him blink his violet eyes very slowly.

"Thank you, mine poet," Rustle said past giggles of delight. Her tail wiggled, merely changing the place where the water tugged at its wispy holds of multiple colors and flowers. Rustle started to lower her head back into the water as she stared up at him, waiting to see what he might do in return. She'd stare at him, openly, curiously, a slightly stronger, more possessive feeling running through her as well. Slowly she lifted her head some, still all wet, and tilted it, so her dripping, rustling little willow leave tipped to the side.
"I like how you speak, my poet stallion," Rustle said suddenly, emphasizing the my part of her words as she looked up at them, little clear droplets slipping off of her to return to the sparkling waters below.

He will still trying to recover from the splash of water, not hurt, more confused, spitting out a bit of crisp clear stream water, and immediately feeling stupid, looked down, practically turning red. His fiery mane dripped water, an odd almost ironic look, as his ears flicked forward surprisedly as she spoke.
A poet? He liked being called a poet.... though he was a hunter as well. He scuffed a hoof against pebbles slowly, swishing his tail through the water. Her second set of words made him quickly look up, his dripping face leaning closer a bit to hers, violet eyes wide as they focused on her to hear her sweet words that sent an odd rush through him, as he softly swallowed, murmuring out.
"Youyr... poet.." He wasn't arguing, actually thrilling at the words, and suddenly said boldly. "My... Naiad, you ayre too sweet." He looked amazed at himself and to hide his embarrassment he kicked up some water to splash her back, spinning about to flick his tail, sending more droplets flying as he raced forward.

Rustle stared at him with perked ears, watching when his sweet looking face leaned closer to hers, she noticed the difference, perhaps she was looking for it. My... It was enjoyable, the sound of that word from the stallions lips. She could remember Dive and Janus and Hansa saying she was theirs, but that was different, they were her family. Rustle opened her mouth and... got a mouthful of water.
Rustle squealed in surprise and wild delight and started after him. He had the head start, and water ran into her eyes, covering her little leaves with droplets. She ran, and she hopped. Of course that was to keep her balance instead of falling flat on her face when her cloven hoof hit a large pebble or rock.

Every step was more difficult than on land, with the water’s flow working against him, causing him to snort as he paced through the water, ripples and droplets going flying up to sparkle in the air, as he laughed richly, baring his teeth to her amusedly. His tail was waving like a fiery banner, flicking diamond droplets into the air. He snorted loudly as he cantered forward among the treacherous pebbles, glancing back to see her following him, causing his stomach to tighten up with excitement.
She made him forget about his most prized possession, the way her laugh rang through the air like bells, how she swayed like a sweet flower, how… fun she was to be around. He didn’t mind one bit as he dashed through the watery hunt of himself, though he knew he was already caught.

Rustle couldn't help but keep laughing. No one had ever played with her like this, through the water, it was fun, exhilarating. How many times had she run alone through the waters when something floated by that interested her? It was just like that! The only difference was this was something real, someone... someone...
There, her stride, she had caught it, Rustle sped up, slipping around the pull of the water back, back, away from this point and to its end, its finish, its regrowth. Her soaked and flower spotted tail started to snap back and forth as well, excited by the chase through the rushing clear water. Rustle sped up and snapped at his flicking tail excitedly.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw the wild little mare, dripping diamonds like she was the spirit of the very stream he tread through with such fervor, as she gained on him, her bright blue eyes narrowed in concentration, looking focused, making him feel a warm feeling flush through his veins. He felt like boasting of her beauty and speed and just…
He was proud of her, and it sang more sweetly on his tongue than pride in himself. Is that why he had been named this by the Sharian who had gave him his name? Pride, but Misguided, he never dwelt on the middle part of his name, just the first and last. Had his pride been founded on a quicksand foundation of his own acts and self? Is that why he was so “misguided”? His violet eyes roved back to her, and he felt that swell of pride for her and her steady gaining on him, barely any pride in himself for finding her.
How strange… he suddenly stopped, unawares as he did, caught up in this strange deep thinking he had not encountered on before.

Rustle would have sped up, racing forward to nip his flanks, his side, his shoulder. But he stopped before any of that could happen. Rustle's eyes got a big bigger as she slammed smack dab into his flanks. Rustle let out a squeak of surprise to add to her wide eyed look. She was jarred back a few steps, going with the clear waters that took her thoughts so often. After a moment of regaining her thoughts and her footing, Rustle crept forward to his front, rubbing the side of her sweet face against his neck without a thought as she peeked up at him past the little willows leaves, ears perked up at him curiously.
What did this stallion think of that overtook his body without using the grand voice she so wished to hear more of? He was a spark, of course one that could not be doused by the cool water they so strode in. Pride of the Misguided Arrow... Pride... Rustle lifted herself up more to look him in the face better, with her curious blue eyes. Was it true that one could see into the soul of another through their eyes? She'd certainly have no problem looking into his lavender eyes for as long as it took to prove that statement true. She was just Rustle of the Willow's Tears. Which Willow did she belong to that her Tears were meant for? So did she have any right to think these thoughts of unending and ridiculously wild dreams that involved him?
Rustle puffed up her chest as she slid closer. She was never like this, she was never as outspoken and wild in front of another, never so bold with her soft words. No, she did not ever think these thoughts over another, and that other being a stallion. Rustle leaned in closer and half shyly bumped her nose to his, "Pyride?" With a shy twitch of her tail she tipped her head more to the side so her little willow leaves wouldn't creep into her sights. "Can..." Her voice trailed off, and still she looked up at him. "I want... to... be youyr Rustle... Youyr Naiad." Once, twice she blinked, then stopped that altogether to gaze up at him without movement. She felt like that's what she wanted to say, after an age of thoughts taking form under the knowledge held back until later. Like an itch she'd finally gotten, she'd got her itch out, now just to see how she felt after that itch had been solved.

Pride was lost in a foggy forest of confused thoughts and conflicting bits, ears flicking wildly as he tried to clear his mind. He felt a body hit against his, knees locked so he only quaked, tail flicking once, feeling the vibrations of water lapping against his legs, more than just the normal flow of the stream against his form, his tail being washed between his legs, flames overtop of the water. He felt sleek hair against his coat, eyes half closing at the soothing feeling of her touch, lips quivering once. His ears pinned back as he slowly looked down into those larkspur blue eyes. They were searching into his deep violet eyes, and he felt as though he was looking into not a mirror, but a deep pool, were he could see his reflection, a wisp of a ghost, only a bit on the surface. His misguided pride wounded him like an arrow to the heart. How could he think that he could take pride in a prize… no… an uncapturable spirit. She was lighter than a bluebird, faster than a doe, full of more song than a sparrow, so much full of more life than any other creature he had seen in his travels. He couldn’t, she was as slender and delicate as a blossom, he was such a hunter, he would just crush her… Silence her lovely Rustle…
He blinked slowly, eyes glinting like an amethyst, taking in a soft breath as her soft skin brushed against his. His breath hitched some, as he stared at her, lips twitching and feeling his breath stick in his lungs, unable to focus his head that seemed to be ringing.
“My… I…” He swallowed slowly, brow creasing. “You can’t be m-mine, you’re so… lovely, and wild, and beautiful… how could I…”
He swallowed as his stammerer’s tongue was overtaken by a poet. “You ayre like spring, I do not wish to be the summer that oveyrtakes you, my deayr… I want to be the wind that moves you, youyr pyrotectoyr and fyriend… youyr…. Pyride.” He looked down, embarrassed and estatic and elated and eager to hear her answer, yet terrified as well.

(FAIL. Also *sneezes* NOOO IM ALLERGIC TO ALLITERATION! –The Tobuscus)

She looked up at him silently as he spoke, listening without speaking, watching without blinking. "Then be my fyriend, then be more then just my fyriend! Pyrotect me at my side! Not infyront of me, not behind me! I will look up to you, but neveyr look down on me!" Rustles nostrils started to flair, lifting a fore leg up to paw, making the clear and fresh water tremble at her movement.
"If you neveyr touch a floweyr does that mean it will stay safe foreveyr?" Rustle stared up at him, she waited for his response, gave him time for it, then she spoke. "Floweyrs like attention, they like love, they like being talked to. Some you can bend styraight to the gyround and they still wont byreak! Eveyry Spyring tuyrns to Summeyr, and lateyr it tuyrns back again! I want my pyrotectoyr to be my fyriend, who can play with me and teach me, and doesn't mind yrough play. Is that wyrong?" she stared up at him, her wet mane slicking to her neck and shoulders now, their flowers beading almost happily in all this.
"My Pyride." Rustle stared up at him still, "You will stay with me."