[ it had not even occurred to yennefer that the wolf could not be this gentle, with her. had not even crossed her mind that threading her fingers through his soft white coat could be something tense, something dangerous. this wolf had been her companion, through her many journeys across this land, and she had every step of the way felt watched over. felt like this is where she is meant to be, with the wolf at her side, guiding her through the dark.
she may not have memories, to lead her. and even now, she has flashes of uncertainty about what it is she should be doing, who she should be, but she had never been uncertain about him. gwiazda, she says aloud, unsure of where it comes from. star. she feels the wolf under her hand stir, awoken by what she could even say is the sound of his own name, but she does not pay him much mind. instead, yennefer's eyes are on him, on the tired way his eyes fall closed. it pushes her up onto her elbow, drawing just a bit closer to him as his eyes fall shut.
gently, her fingers trace along the man's brow. across scars that she knows, but doesn't, down the side of his face, to his jaw. there is something inherently familiar about the feeling, of having him this close, of the barest touch under the pads of her fingers. she feels herself smiling, after a moment, as she watches him fight what is certainly sleep. ]
I think he does too.
[ the wolf, or him, yennefer doesn't specify. instead, she lets her finger brush back into the strands of silver-white hair at his temple. there's a kind of low tension in her, a worry that if she moves too quickly, if her touch is too firm, it might scare him into leaving again. again.
she doesn't know why her body reacts the way it does to that word, but the truth is - she does not want him to leave, and she doesn't want to either. her body is closer, now, it has to be for her fingers to so easily brush across his face, and her mind goes back to the thought. that she could be closer, if she wanted to. that they could be, if either of them did, and she watches him fight the heaviness in his own eyes. ]
no subject
she may not have memories, to lead her. and even now, she has flashes of uncertainty about what it is she should be doing, who she should be, but she had never been uncertain about him. gwiazda, she says aloud, unsure of where it comes from. star. she feels the wolf under her hand stir, awoken by what she could even say is the sound of his own name, but she does not pay him much mind. instead, yennefer's eyes are on him, on the tired way his eyes fall closed. it pushes her up onto her elbow, drawing just a bit closer to him as his eyes fall shut.
gently, her fingers trace along the man's brow. across scars that she knows, but doesn't, down the side of his face, to his jaw. there is something inherently familiar about the feeling, of having him this close, of the barest touch under the pads of her fingers. she feels herself smiling, after a moment, as she watches him fight what is certainly sleep. ]
I think he does too.
[ the wolf, or him, yennefer doesn't specify. instead, she lets her finger brush back into the strands of silver-white hair at his temple. there's a kind of low tension in her, a worry that if she moves too quickly, if her touch is too firm, it might scare him into leaving again. again.
she doesn't know why her body reacts the way it does to that word, but the truth is - she does not want him to leave, and she doesn't want to either. her body is closer, now, it has to be for her fingers to so easily brush across his face, and her mind goes back to the thought. that she could be closer, if she wanted to. that they could be, if either of them did, and she watches him fight the heaviness in his own eyes. ]
Why do you do that?