[Ameratasu]

Serenity. The very air seemed thick with it, as if the vague, whispered suggestion of some cloying yet alluring perfume that lingered on long after the wearer of such had vanished around the corner and left only half a memory in their wake. Stars whirled overhead in the night sky like drunken and giddy revelers. The gloom of the night was lit by the sporadic, golden flash of lightning bugs as they, too, singled for the hope of a mate and love.  

The gentle roar of the cascading falls was the final, elegant detail to such an ideal picture of an early autumn night. The balm of summer had not yet left, though the night was mild, far from humid. It's hushed voice provided the final, ideal backdrop to nature's late-night symphony of light and sound. Reposed on the dark outline of a rocky outcrop, two figures enjoyed the evening in silent companionship.

Teague

The first of which, a Bleached Fellox by the name of Teague. Her elegantly tapering muzzle was draped over a significantly smaller back, that rose in fell in gentle inhalations. Whatever it was, it looked from a distant like a strange array of multicolored moss. It was difficult to distinguish a shape of any sort.

However, with another moment the mass of moss raised its head to display an expressive yawn, four prismatic tails unfurling from around it's tightly curled body.

[center]
Celestynka

Her name was Celestynka , though most had taken to shortening the puzzling and nearly unpronounceable name to merely 'Celest.' The good natured Prismatic Fenling took no offense in the least. And then, the silence was broken as the young female spoke at last.

"It's beautiful tonight, isn't Teague?" Her tones were gentle, innocent. The chime of a wind chime.  

"It is," came the agreement, deeper and more mature, yet softer, and no less musical.

A smile, a bright flash in the dark. "I'm glad I could share it with you," she murmured.

"And I, you."

One should not assume that the two were lovers. If anything, their relationship was merely that of sisters. They were close indeed, however, and their bond was nigh unbreakable.

But they had come here not simply for the beauty of the area...but perchance to find and claim love for themselves.

[Banister]

The blanket calmness was that of a beating heart, soft and a breaking mirror to the reality. it wasn't beating like it should, kept underground by the stilling tranquil in the blurred nightfall. Each leaf kept by a stem on the grand trees swayed in a sweet silence, the muffled bodily roars of the water fall surprisingly fresh.  Each and every spirit beyond its realm in the heavens danced and sang merrily, only stopping to watch the beautifully breathtaking scene in the mother ground below their footsteps. They carried white lanterns that soothed they night 'round.

The kisses of a warm but cool summer had not faded from the fresh cheek of the grasses, each with their own small violin of crickets inside their stout, deep emerald tapered bodies. It was only a small segment of the still that was noticeable to the blind eye, a near-sleeping Temple Fellox in the misty night calamity. His markings shuddered on his crisp black fur, his chest rising and falling in a soft pattern. All was silent on his body, except the soft breathing escaping from his tapered muzzle.

It was almost impossible to tell if the body with moving at all, its black colouration almost blending into the cool background of the night. Only his pulsating cyan markings and eyes against the deep cool blackish-blue remained almost totally visible.
You can tell if someone is not sleeping, however, if they're eyes are shut blindly open, gazing a the sight in front of the rushing waters.



{Around; first post.}

[Ameratasu]

Such demure words expressed were stolen by the reckless hands of the breeze--as eager to possess something new that was equally cherished by someone else as a babe's snatching hands. Surely if it was so coveted by those the babe loved best, it was worth having. And so water and wind worked to render the murmured conversation between the two females into little more than a dull whisper, like the suggestion of voices behind the veil of white noise with the turn of a radio dial.


Teague lifted her head once more, and gazed outwards. Yet such clever words and dreamy thoughts that danced like fairy light in her mind, to only be reflected in her eyes as the moon is reflected on the water, giving a sense of false twins, vanished. Her gaze sharpened, grew narrow in its purposeful  focus. A brief flash of cerulean, she thought she had glimpsed. A whim of fancy, perhaps. It would not be the first time her poet's heart had mislead her into thinking she had witnessed something that was not there.

But no. It was there, she was sure of it. Something gleamed, jewel-like, in the darkness just below their reposed forms. She rose to her feet then, a soft, low chuff of breath escaping her in idle curiosity and wonder.

"What is it, Teague? Is there something the matter?" The words were thick with impending sleep, yet concern still laced through them. She regarded the sullenly alert Fellox with a head cast to one side, perplexed well and truly. Sleep clouded her judgment.

"No, nothing, Celest," Teague responded in gentle, soothing tones. "Please don't trouble yourself. Go back to sleep, if you wish. I'll only be a moment."

With that, the female Fellox leaped gracefully from rock to rock, until at last she was at ground level, eyes seeking once more that rhythmic, pulsating glow that was almost entrancing--dazzling to the senses, certainly. Ah. There.

She crept steadily closer to the source of such vivid color, nose to the earth. And suddenly, as shocking and brief as a shock from an electrical socket, her nose brushed, no longer earth and loam, but fur. She had stumbled upon the reposed form without noticing it, so she was so enthralled with unraveling the mystery of such colors.

And now she danced back, lightly, startled, head tossed erect. "My apologies," she murmured. "I didn't mean to disturb you. It's only..." She paused, head lowering somewhat in keenly felt embarrassment. "It's only, I've never seen such colors."

[Banister]

It was through a series of hushed whispers did he findher flute-like voice, the shear softness of it pure sounding, like the bells of a shrine on a strikingly beautiful cloudy day, shedding the tears of the heavans upon the dew-sweetened grasses beneath.

It was her washed pelt that had caught his eye. It was an entrancing cream, the kind that you find if you open up a blooming spring bud, or the fresh soothing kind that you found in a newborns eyes, gazed and quiet, but a taste of strawberries and cream for the senses. The pelt then opened to a blanket-box pink, the softly still flames of it resting on the other one's tail with a soft entrance. It was the calming colour of a light rose, the kind that grew still in the noon but flourished after night, laden by a crib of sweet smells to coax it out of its bud, and feed upon the wondrous moon rays that sat in the night. Lining upon her legs, light green stripes seemed to wrap around them like a parade of grassy bandages. it was the firm sweetness of the earth that cradled the colours, bringing them to a new spectrum under the sodden stars in the sky.

The hushed ears of the evening began to grow dim, the symphonies of imaginary insect violins coming to a drop in their song, a steep alto the base of the crickets. he had never learned how to play any instrument of such beauty like the night, but there was nothing on the ground above and below to compare it all to. Each of the trees half-hearted conversations came to  close as the breeze momentarily stopped, as they began to watch the lanterns in the light-navy skies dance in a merry song, filled with the groans of a cello but the strings of a viola taking up the courtesy of the work, the birds and crickets becoming quieter to allow this music a solo in their nightly performance. The rhythm of the clouds seemed to join in, the musical scratches of the crickets soften to the tune of a light soprano. It was the night, he must not forget of the sounds of the evening.

The near quiet groans and howls of the usually calm waterfall seemed to become a distant noise to the ears of the fellox, his calm cyan eyes beginning to study the female, half-embarrassedly. How did one reply to that?...
"Th-thank you."
His eyes softened a tad, as he spoke again, voice quiet and soft, like the sighs of the doves in the early morn.
"What is your name?..."

[Ameratasu]

Spring's early morning chorus had never, for all its glory, been as soft nor as inexplicably appealing as the dulcet tones that came forth from the mouth of such a one. Teague was at once intrigued, though for a moment breath caught in meditative  appreciation of such unasked for splendor. This night, it would seem, was not nearly full of fragile glimmer and little promise as she had believed.

Renewed magic, and sudden clarity of such sweet and rare sounds of insect symphony as yet not intruded upon seemed almost too much to ask. But now she was dipping her head slightly in humility and acknowledgment both.  "You're most welcome,"she murmured in return.

Perhaps it was the heady incense of the night, spreading from the last of summer's fading blooms to the subtle nectar of settling pollen and dew, as effusive as the overwhelming scent of incense swung in idle circles from the brazen cage of a priest as he paced hallways gone still and silent in reverence. Or perhaps it was simply his voice alone that demanded such a charitable gift as her name. It was small gift, in truth, and it seemed such a paltry offering.

But all the same, a gentle smile of indulgence and contentment spread slowly across her features like the oncoming blush of dawn. "My name is Teague,"she murmured then, eyes averting somewhat, casting themselves to the side and downward. "Might I have the gift of your name, as well?"Perhaps she was being a bit too bold--she certainly thought so. She normally was not so forward. All the same, curiosity compelled her. She was completely enthralled at long last by its whims.

[Banister]

Her voice, so much more up close, had the soft tones of a flute, and the simple fragility of a soft violin retreat. The strings moved in a soft chorus, each ending with a crisp solo, bringing the tone to a beautiful vibration of noise. Teage's voice alone made him pay more attention, nevermind her fragile but beautiful features.
How much could he thank the heavens for such an undeserved gift? They had blessed him, so much more than he had asked.

The scent of the blossom themselves around her made him feel giddy. This wasn't a forest anymore. He could only call it the mild words that had passed the shrine-keepers lips only a few hours before, 'the slightest bit of nirvana'. It was so tranquil, calm, full of life and hope.

Suddenly thrown back into the cradling arms of reality, the fellox loosened up. Listening, he silently replayed her name.
"Only a rose with such a name could smell so sweet", if he had felt the need to quote such poetic words from someone so unlike himself.
Poetry. That was the night on such an evening would be called, simple and sweet poetry. How much it seemed to fit.
He wondered, what could one call poetry? It really was quite a mystery.

Replying to her question, his voice, deep and soft as ever, whispered out across the short distance between them.
"Teauge... My name is Around. Pleased to meet you."
His misty ebony maw nodded as he bowed, showing respect to the wonderous female, his markings glowing all the more brightly to show his pleasure.

[Ameratasu]

Teague sank to her haunches in little more than gentle wonder. A blessing indeed. Yet such subtle praise of the fragrance of blossoms that were given voice merely in the solitude of her heart slid away, forgotten in favor of a greater treasure. She had indeed received the male's name, and this was a sweeter gift yet than even the last and ripest strawberry of the season, lush juices dribbling a silent ode down the side of the mouth that consumed it with relish and pleasure. The merest tip of her tails set to a gentle wave of gratitude and pleasure, and her eyes seemed to brighten with a sudden luminosity stolen from the stars themselves. Hymns of nature and of shine's guardians had never sounded so sweet--nor so fitting.

"Around, then. It's a pleasure,"she murmured. A soft, gentle laugh of contended amusement. "And nearly impossible for me to express how much of one it is, truly."But then her mind recalled such poetry he had uttered just moments before, and a smile of genuine surprised pleasure blossomed across her delicate features. "The 'rose' is grateful for the admiration. You can be assured it bears very little thorns."The mild flirtation was not at all like her, yet this, too, pleased her.

"I congratulate you, as well,"she added, sliding now from haunches to stomach nearer to him as carelessly elegant as the downward spiral of a silk scarf to bear floors. "Poetry is the key to unlocking, if not outright stealing, my heart. At times."She chuckled once more, then, at her brazen mannerisms. "Now tell me, Around. What brings such a unexpected treasure such as yourself all the way out here at this time of night?"

[Banister]

The pair knew each others names. It was, in fact, a giant leap for him, as he had been sitting in his room at the mansion for the past two years, Only coming out at night to eat his midnight snack and get on with his works. His only contact with anyone at the time was with the maid, Tilly, in which they had nightly conversations, ranging from about dinosaurs to lycanthropy.


"I am only really here to observe the past, as I know more of my puzzle lies here, buried. May I ask likewise of you?"

His slight laughter was a group of chiming bells eloped with the calm yet true mannerisms of the trumpet, a match made only in his actions. Sitting squarely on his haunches, the sweet grass a comforting seat, he smiled.

It was only in his dreams did he remember, but soon it all came back rushing to his head. Pleasure rushed to his face like a late business man to a meeting, and memories likewise to his head. He could only remember snippets of his dreams, but they flooded back to him back like a dam had burst, letting great waters flow forth. This is where his head had been last night, frolicking with the crickets. His laughter turned into a bright grin as he began to turn his train of though into a river, each memory beginning to float like driftwood to the beautiful delta ahead.

[Ameratasu]

"I don't honestly know,"she murmured softly. "I am one who is compelled by beauty. Though not beauty in the conventional sense. I am fickle. As they say, beauty is found in the eye of the beholder."She shrugged, then, an elegant upward slope of the shoulder, and a gradual downward cascade once more. "It was simply far too tempting an evening to stay indoors this night."Her muzzle turned its gracious and tapered curves then, as she keenly sought his face, eyes holding his captive for an instant, whether to their pleasure or no. Curiosity gleamed as bright and ebon as the wing case of a jeweled beetle within their tranquil depths.

"The past is a compelling puzzle. But it is good to pay homage to it, and whatever thoughts you have, when you can."The mere tip of her ear twitched as if a dance partner at a waltzed seized by the waist and swirled round in a fit of delighted passion from her dancer partner. "I hope you can find what you're seeking,"she stated then, tones sincere. Her own thoughts lingered on the long since faded laughter she had heard, and she smiled gently. It thrilled and pleased her to hear such a pleasant sound.

"But while you are wandering in the night, might I ask you to walk with me? Unless you much prefer it here. It is rather beautiful."She rose to her feet, then. She had no true destination embedded in her mind, merely a desire to join in companionship and to share the splendor of the evening with a like mind and a like heart.

She did not yet move, however, but stood still, her lack of motion a mere continuation of her previous inquiry, however silent the invitation.