Running

[rhiannon_lee]

Nighttime in Cottonwood Cove was a spectacle: a pale, pebble-strewn ground underfoot, ghostly Joshua trees twisting against a barren landscape, and a sky so black and velvety that Rhiannon longed to touch it. The moon hung low and full as she knocked at the front door of Cian’s little cottage, which had been built by a wealthy contractor as a getaway spot for his family during the construction of the Hoover Dam in the 1930s. With all that was temporary or mobile in this part of Clark County, Rhiannon appreciated the historical aspects of its framework, and how it lent a sense of time and place to an otherwise transient community.

The slayer’s dark hair was combed into a ponytail. After the sun went down, the desert temperature dropped sharply, and so she wore a loosely knit sweater over her tank top, jeans, and boots. A delicate crucifix glinted on her collarbone. She crossed her ankles and slipped her thumbs into her hip pockets as she waited for the Were to answer.

Comments

[rhiannon_lee]

She lowered herself to haunches beside the cat, but her eyes were trained on the dry land that stretched before them. “What do you want?” she asked, just quiet enough for those flicking ears. She wondered what the cougar would do if she weren’t at his side, hunt a nocturnal creature and rend flesh from the bone? Run and run until he left the cove and its lake far behind? There were pieces of themselves they shared, and perhaps others that weren’t quite ready for one another’s eyes. Rhiannon didn’t know what she would do if Cian stumbled across her ripping a demon limb from limb, the way she sometimes needed to do, emerging from the battle covered in blood and slime and looking unusually happy about it.

Her fingers dug into the fur at Siofra’s neck and massaged it.

Running

[cian_oneill]

Siofra's head turned, eyes hooded but seeing, as the Slayer's fingers worked into the thick coat at the back of the big cat's neck. Slowly the mouth opened a little, the shape of the tongue becoming visible as the jaw continued to lower and a soft yawn was emitted. There was no tiredness evident, but instead an expression of relaxation only possible in those who could be alert in a heartbeat.

A few minutes passed and as if saying it had had sufficient Siofra stood and startd to make its way down the rocky face of the ridge, carefully traversing the scree and reaching the level surface before breaking into a trot, as if waiting for the Slayer to follow, but not stopping to do so.

Re: Running

[rhiannon_lee]

She held still to watch the descent of the cat because of its grace and musculature. Then Rhiannon stood and picked a path down the jagged hillside, and once her feet touched the gravelly earth at its base, she began to run alongside the cat in a pace not so urgent this time. A low rattle came from the underside of a nearby rock, but it was paid no mind as they were long out of range. The wind was at their backs now and it pressed them onward.

‘If only we were telepathic,’ thought Rhiannon as she watched all four of the animal’s legs leave the ground over and over again.

Re: Running

[cian_oneill]

Siofra's ear flicked and for a moment the animal's head turned, as if understanding what the Slayer had said in that moment. But attention was quickly returned to the path he was following winding up through a saddle of the small foothills, climbing up and down into another valley, the hills now hiding any evidence of civilisation from view, and them from any possible watchers.

Ten minutes later, in a small hidden valley, Siofra came to a halt and looked back over his shoulder as the Slayer came up beside him. Slowly he walked across the sandy floor toward a shadow that lay on the other wall, a ledge protruding from the wall of the valley creating the shadow which concealed the opening to a small cave. He continued inside, a short distance, just two of his body lengths, and the narrow passage opened into a small cavern. A ledge approximately three feet high, and four to five feet deep, traveled around the wall nearly eight feet. On the ledge lay scattered some crystals, various shapes and sizes, lit by the moon that was passing directly overhead a shaft that cut down through the rock over the ledge.

Re: Running

[rhiannon_lee]

The moonlight traveling into such a small, enclosed space meant that it had multiple planes to illuminate, and that light reflected onto her skin as well as the gemstones and minerals. It was beautiful. The wind whistled keenly between the narrow crevices of the cavern, one of many enclaves in a desert that had been settled for silver mining. Rhiannon’s fingers lit on the rock wall and traced a glistening vein from the cavern’s entrance until it disappeared in shadow. It was a special place. One of power, she thought, and traced the smallest of engraved shapes in the rock… one she couldn’t be certain was natural or manmade.

She lowered her hand and walked into the center of the room, where the view of the sky was best, and looked up to see a clutch of stars in a constellation she didn’t know.

"Cian," she said.

Re: Running

[cian_oneill]

The big cat was sitting, tail curled around his paws, when she spoke. As if understanding her the large furred head rolled from one side to the other, then lowered, shoulders hunching forward a fur receded. A few moments later the man was there, sitting on his haunches for a moment, before slowly standing, the moon washing down over him where he stood in the middle of the circle of light.

Re: Running

[rhiannon_lee]

Rhiannon heard the soft noises of his shift and turned around, her hiking boot scuffing on the sand that covered the rock floor. He was there. She placed her fingertips on his cheek and lifted herself on her toes to kiss him. It was a delicate gesture, feather-light, her guard not only lowered, but gone, and she didn’t think about it until her eyes opened.

“I trust you, too.”

That flipped her stomach inside out, and she had done it to herself, which made it no less true. The man had shown her his secret self, let her into his home, and shown her a place he had every sensible right to keep to himself. The least she could do was admit he had her faith.

Re: Running

[cian_oneill]

He nodded once, a small inclination of the head, the slightest of movements, but it carried the weight of knowledge that her words carried truth. His hands rose till they rested on her hips and his head bowed until his lips met hers. Eyes met and locked for a long moment as unspoken messages, questions, flew back and forth, received and being digested. As eyelids slowly lowered and removed that sense from them both, another was enabled, one that needed the purity of the moment to be born. This time it was answers that were exchanged, no visual flow, no words, no sounds, just the kinesthetic communication that came so rarely in such a pure form.

Re: Running

[rhiannon_lee]

Rhiannon swallowed hard. Eyes closed and wordless, yet she would swear that she knew what he was feeling – and that she was laid bare, too. More than that, Cian had heard her through Siofra’s ears. He was there. The slayer’s fingers curled into his biceps. “You’re undoing me.” It was his honesty, his connection to the earth, his simplicity, and how he removed the toxicity without lifting a finger to change her circumstances. Standing in this emotional proximity, it seemed so much more naked than skin or words. It was a dare to keep standing there, because there was a less-than-bold part of Rhiannon that wanted to run outside and keep going, high-tail it to her car, pull down the visor mirror, and slap herself back into reality.

Instead, she pressed her temple into his cheek and breathed out. “You have me.”

And then, quieter, “Shit.”

Re: Running

[cian_oneill]

There was no world outside at that moment, it had been suspended, rendered insignificant by the powers that ran through the earth and rock and night sky.

And the soft laugh that followed Rhiannon's utterance seemed to ripple through the dark to seal the moment for the three of them. "Lovely sentiment," came the soft lilt, the smile on his face clear, but no indication as to which of her utterances was drawing the descriptor. But the humour could be felt, like a warm wash across limbs and mind.

Cian himself wasn't exactly sure what had taken place, but the urgent need to bring her there, then, that night, had proven to be as important as he had felt it to be. He took her hand and turned toward the ledge, crossing toward it where the scattered crystals lay bathed in the cleansing moonlight, each a different size and shape. He ran his eyes over them, one drawing him to it. He picked it up and held it in his palm, looking at her briefly then at the crystals again.