2nd of Frost, Year 119
Eiroldas
Eiroldas
Taelian did run. Not only because he felt he couldn't keep up with the Avialae's long strides, but because he wanted to; he was filled with a boyish, jovial excitement, and he wanted the other man to share in it. Eventually when he got far ahead enough, which wasn't very far at all, Riven joined him and the two strode towards the wall that Riven believed they could meet by sunset. They did meet the wall, eventually, and Taelian announced his triumph by lifting his arms above his head and yelling out his enthusiasm. He actually won the race, not thinking about the disadvantage of Riven's wings pulling him back with the wind and slowing him down. He only thought about their difference in size and how accomplished he must have been to fly past the man as he did.
"They really craft us well in that shit-stained hovel," he bragged. "Perhaps you've spent too much time in serene Kalzasi?"
Along the way, he thought about everything that had just happened. The long, intimate embrace they'd kept with one another; the way neither of them wished to let go. He was emotionally marred, but Taelian wasn't a complete fool. There was physical attraction between them, and it ran two ways. It was obvious in the length of their touches, how they faltered in parting. How Riven blushed at him and Taelian in return.
A necessary stop, Riven called their long embrace, the strawberry hue still lighting up his stubbled complexion. He grinned, and kneaded his thumbs into the Siltori's back, and Taelian restrained the satisfied groans that would have otherwise freely escaped his lips. He was happy. Happy to be in Riven's presence, and happy to stay there. It did not last forever, of course, but the hand running across his back and over the surface of his silver hair was enough to make him shake. The sensations filling his form were robust and almost harrowing; he felt that he both wanted to lean into the other man and collapse onto the floor, unable to process the complexity of these things. He had never felt himself so stirred as he was now - his insides felt warm, enough so that the small remnants of cold that managed to breeze against him were immediately thawed away.
Running at least helped to get his nerves in order. He wouldn't have been able to endure all of these complexities if he'd merely, casually walked.
"We're here," he pointed out, gesturing towards the rock wall. It was large and immaculately designed by nature, with stones peering out of the sides and divets of fallen rock at certain parts of the wall. Had he been a half-decent climber, he would've suggested they go up along the edge, but it looked somewhat dangerous and unstable. "It's... nice, I suppose." The trees were blocking any sort of view, so really it was just a large rock he'd been led to. Riven could fly, but Taelian couldn't. It also did not appear that there was an obvious road leading up from along the rocky edge.
"Isn't this the mountain with those secluded springs the Avialae go to? I've heard some very garish tales regarding those meetings. Some of the peasantry think you all conspire within these high places to keep us wing-less in our places. Purely fictional, I'm sure." He was half-joking. Nothing surprised him anymore.