♛ H A N E H T ♛ ∆ E Y P H A R I A N ∆ W/C: 574 21st, Summer 518 AV Dusk |
In the time that Haneht had dived into the pool and made himself comfortable, the Inarta had changed into a much more comfortable, simple tunic. Gone were the plain, drab hunter’s clothes in favour of beautiful fabric - much more befitting of a fine creature like Raeyn, in Haneht’s opinion - of white and gold, his favourite colour.
Gold was the weakness of many a man, as he’d come to learn at an early age. He himself was no exception, easily enamoured by anything that so much as glinted at him. It epitomised grandeur and glamor, divinity and majesty, and suited him just well. He found that it was a loud and sophisticated colour at the same time, and reminded him of everything he loved. Syna’s glorious, radiant light, Eyktol’s dunes of sand and his home: the glittering jewel that was Ahnatep.
Leaning over the edge of the pool, slender fingers strained in numerous attempts to reach the complimentary bottles of soap by the side, eventually making purchase with one when it was knocked over that he took a whiff of out of habit. Sweet, he noted disinterestedly, already used to the scent, but there was still an inviting urge to give it a taste. Again.
“Oh, I’m blushing,” he purred, husky voice rumbling in his throat, ”Men and women both, actually.” Thick, dark brows waggled playfully, more jesting than suggestive. Raeyn was a lovey creature, but Haneht would rather not push him too much, lest he made good on his promise to make a pincushion of the youth. Or leave. Best not agitate the grumpy little hamster!
The mention of school summoned images of his former tutors, stern-faced and breathing down his neck nearly every waking hour of his childhood, and he involuntarily grimaced. No thanks. He had had enough confinement and rigid schooling to last him a lifetime. Learning came much easier when one did it of their own free will, he found, and when it didn’t involve getting punished for every mistake and imperfection. Granted, he hadn’t been the most focused of children, but he liked to think that amongst his siblings, he had been most obedient as a younger child. Like a puppet, dancing and bending at another’s will.
Had Haneht been any less mindful of his current state of undress, he would’ve shamelessly bolted right out to get a closer look at the lock of hair limp between Raeyn’s fingers. Instead, he simply stayed in the pool, admiring from afar. It was glistening white, almost silver in the glow of candlelight, and he briefly wondered how his newfound wonder would look with a crown of glistening white locks tumbling to his shoulders. Like the mysterious, ethereal Konti of the White Isle? He had yet to meet any personally, his only and limited knowledge of them stemming from tales, paintings and his studies as a child, but he so hoped to. He’d heard a lot about their beauty and natural affinity for divination, and the shimmering, iridescent scales that supposedly decorated their bodies. “I like it,” the boy offered, genuine as can be. He really did mean it. “Makes you look very special. Like you’ve been blessed, painted by Syna and Leth themselves. And those...” the Eyph gestured at his own face, struggling to find the Common word for Raeyn’s freckles. “Like stars,” upper set of arms swept at the sky in emphasis, a bright, child-like smile gracing pillowy lips.
Gold was the weakness of many a man, as he’d come to learn at an early age. He himself was no exception, easily enamoured by anything that so much as glinted at him. It epitomised grandeur and glamor, divinity and majesty, and suited him just well. He found that it was a loud and sophisticated colour at the same time, and reminded him of everything he loved. Syna’s glorious, radiant light, Eyktol’s dunes of sand and his home: the glittering jewel that was Ahnatep.
Leaning over the edge of the pool, slender fingers strained in numerous attempts to reach the complimentary bottles of soap by the side, eventually making purchase with one when it was knocked over that he took a whiff of out of habit. Sweet, he noted disinterestedly, already used to the scent, but there was still an inviting urge to give it a taste. Again.
“Oh, I’m blushing,” he purred, husky voice rumbling in his throat, ”Men and women both, actually.” Thick, dark brows waggled playfully, more jesting than suggestive. Raeyn was a lovey creature, but Haneht would rather not push him too much, lest he made good on his promise to make a pincushion of the youth. Or leave. Best not agitate the grumpy little hamster!
The mention of school summoned images of his former tutors, stern-faced and breathing down his neck nearly every waking hour of his childhood, and he involuntarily grimaced. No thanks. He had had enough confinement and rigid schooling to last him a lifetime. Learning came much easier when one did it of their own free will, he found, and when it didn’t involve getting punished for every mistake and imperfection. Granted, he hadn’t been the most focused of children, but he liked to think that amongst his siblings, he had been most obedient as a younger child. Like a puppet, dancing and bending at another’s will.
Had Haneht been any less mindful of his current state of undress, he would’ve shamelessly bolted right out to get a closer look at the lock of hair limp between Raeyn’s fingers. Instead, he simply stayed in the pool, admiring from afar. It was glistening white, almost silver in the glow of candlelight, and he briefly wondered how his newfound wonder would look with a crown of glistening white locks tumbling to his shoulders. Like the mysterious, ethereal Konti of the White Isle? He had yet to meet any personally, his only and limited knowledge of them stemming from tales, paintings and his studies as a child, but he so hoped to. He’d heard a lot about their beauty and natural affinity for divination, and the shimmering, iridescent scales that supposedly decorated their bodies. “I like it,” the boy offered, genuine as can be. He really did mean it. “Makes you look very special. Like you’ve been blessed, painted by Syna and Leth themselves. And those...” the Eyph gestured at his own face, struggling to find the Common word for Raeyn’s freckles. “Like stars,” upper set of arms swept at the sky in emphasis, a bright, child-like smile gracing pillowy lips.
