Wednesday, May 4, 2011

She dances.

Lithe body swaying, her personal glamour glows an iridescent lavender as it flares from her very flesh. The pulse of her steps trips merrily through his body, awakening his hunger for her passion.

Sitting on the roof, Pike peers out over the clearing surrounding the cabin and barn, watching the wards dance in time to his lover's casting. He spares a glance for his guard-duty companion.

The Glider turns his handsome face, watching from the peak of the barn. Colors cascade over it's cloaked form, like an oil slick made of magic. He turns a grin on Pike and spreads his arms wide, letting the energy fill his wing membranes, nearly lifting him from the shingles. Only the talons on his feet keep the nightmare anchored.

The wards flare and there is a scream in the woods. Pike smiles grimly. A set of malevolent eyes is gone, snuffed out by Wish' desire to protect her Lady's home. Whatever, whoever, had harm of the family as a goal was now awaiting discovery of those who patrolled the surrounding woods.

An eerie howl drifts through the night. The Hell Hounds warn of an arrival. Moments later, Keon's dark form trots into the clearing. Wish dances past him as the Dark Lord dismounts and waits for her to finish the casting. She glides to a stop, eyes closed, hair plastered to her form. Her voice carries, a mere crackle on an electric stillness.

"How now Lord o' Hounds. Do the Master and Mistress return this night?"

"Nay, Wish. They return on the morrow. The bairn sleeps, well and deeply. I come to offer to take yer place here, so ye and yers can guard their return."

Pike vaults from the roof, landing lightly. He taps his staff on the ground once, shaking a bundle from its tip. Wish gathers it up, dressing quickly.  Her hand slips into Pike's and she bows to Keon. "We owe ye, Dealg Drubh." They salute the Glider as Wish gathers her residual powers. They fade from view, stepping away to emerge from the gloom into the Tavern's parking lot, where they first met Erik and Star.

Pike whistles, a bird's song known only in the forests of the Fae realm. A sentry of Miko's clan flits from the eaves. He brandishes his hatpin, but recognizing the pair, he bows midflight, sheathing the pin with a flourish. Moments later the Wyldfae are finding finger and toe holds as they climb to a spot where they can keep watch.

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