Camping with Clay.

[caraghdelaluna]

Caragh's packed. She's only brought clothes for a few days, and pajamas, of course. And a case of water bottles that she got from the store. That's all Clay told her to worry about for the trip, water and warm clothes

Comments

[mute_clay]

Her lips are warm and soft. Her breath tickles his skin and the darkness pools around them, inside him, flickering as the light flickers. It can be hard to tell the difference at times.

His hand is still resting on the shoulder and it slowly moves into her hair. He just wants to touch it, feel if it is as soft as it looks. As sleek.

He tilts his head a little, moving his lips against hers. Trying to hold his breath. Still time.

The Forest is watching them. Neutrally. The Forest doesn't judge, it is eternal. Only small lives judge. Short lives.

He breaks the kiss, gently, and rests his forehead against hers. His eyes still closed.

He can feel the hammering of his heart in his lips, right below the taste of her mouth.

[caraghdelaluna]

Caragh breathes deeply, her eyes closed, feeling him all around her, his hand in her hair, her forehead resting against hers, the smell of him and the fire strong in the air and the taste of him and the stew he made and the wine he brought on her lips.

It is very quiet, and yet it isn't, in a way, with the little creatures and the wind and the crackling of the fire and the hushing of their clothing when they move and their breathing and her own heartbeat. In some ways, it's not quiet at all.

Again, she wonders briefly if she ought to apologize, but she doesn't think so, exactly. "I don't want to upset you," she says softly. "Tell me if I ever do, okay? I know you can, even if it's not in words. Sometimes I'm better at reading people than others." She opens her eyes and laughs, softly, warmly, squeezing one of his hands.

It didn't feel like the wrong thing to do, kissing him. It still doesn't.

[mute_clay]

He can feel her laugh on his skin. Like spattered, summer rain. He slowly opens his eyes and shakes his head a little.

She didn't hurt him. It hurts, yes, but that is not her doing.

He takes one hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear, letting his eyes rest on her face.

The Forest is alive all around them and he feels calm. At ease.

His finger trails down her cheek.

They should sleep. You cannot sleep past daybreak in the forest. There's too much light.

You won't upset me. He turns his head to rest his lips against her temple. An almost innocent caress. You're not upsetting me.

[caraghdelaluna]

He's not silent, either. Not by a long shot. There are lots of ways of speaking that don't need the voice. Just as the woods are quiet with night, but not silent, so is Clay -- quiet, maybe, but not silent

[mute_clay]

He nods a little. They do have time. And much as he wants to kiss her again, and again, there's something holding him back. Memories perhaps. Ghosts. He doesn't know. They'll likely disappear come morning but Caragh will be here still, when the sun rises, and there is no rush.

He does kiss her again though, because he doesn't want her to misunderstand. To feel slighted or turned down. And then he gets the sleeping bags and show her how to get full advantage of the cover offered by their home of plastic and branches. Less shy about letting his hands brush her skin now.

He is unsure as well, but not nervous. Just not rushing anything.

The fire is dying down and the darkness is spreading but only among the trees. He smiles at her, a smile she likely cannot see, and runs a warm hand down her arm. He doesn't want her to get cold.

((ooc - are you kidding? *g* And you let me know if I can hook you up with say, ehm, Norse folk or some such *g* Or Danish movies.))

[caraghdelaluna]

As before, Caragh simply follows Clay's lead, slipping into the sleeping bag. She smiles at him when she feels him touch her, knows that he probably can't see it with the darkness slipping in around them. Doesn't matter, though, not really.

"Thank you," she whispers in the darkness. "For bringing me here. For giving me the chance to learn."

Then she yawns, and laughs a little at herself. "Sorry," she adds, giggling.

[mute_clay]

He grins. listening to her, and gently touches a fingertip to her mouth. To feel the smile he cannot see. Then he wraps his arms around her and pulls her close, so she won't be cold.

So he won't get cold.

She's soft and warm and he can rest his cheek against her hair and close his eyes without wanting her to be someone else. It's sad in a way. A change. But it's good too. He can be glad that she is here that way. And not feel guilty.

[caraghdelaluna]

He seems happy. Peaceful, in a way that she hasn't really known him.

Clay makes sense out here. For her, he's always made a sort of sense in ways that other people don't, but out here... it's like she can put him in context. And she's not sure that anyone really belongs in this palce, Caragh's just not certain of that, but understanding Clay, understanding the things that hang around him, becomes easier out here.

She's comfortable, too. She knows that she doesn't belong out here, properly, but it doesn't feel wrong, either.

Caragh smiles when he touches her mouth, and she helps him as best she's able when he pulls her to him, accommodating him in it. Turns enough to kiss his cheek before closing her eyes.

[mute_clay]

((ooc - awwwwwwwww. Do we want to wake them up in this thread or should we make a jump or should we - eh - do something else? *g* The pup hasn't been this content in a long while))

[caraghdelaluna]

ooc: awwww indeed! *pets them* I'm good either way, so long as you don't mind my glacial pace. *sheepish grin* She's feeling really happy, too. We can jump forward, if you like, let 'em have their sleep. *laughs*

[mute_clay]

The sun wakes him up. The sun and her soft breath against his skin. He lies still for a while, trying to take in all the little things that make up this morning. The sounds of the forest, her scent, the movement of the leaves.

Then he slowly slides from the sleeping bag and disappears into the thicket to relieve himself and wash a little down by the stream. It's misty but you can tell it will be a beautiful day. Warm and quiet.

A good day.

[caraghdelaluna]

Caragh is a heavy sleeper. It took her a little time, here, the strangeness of it, but give her fifteen or twenty minutes and she can sleep pretty well anywhere. His stirring doesn't wake her, but he's gone when she wakes up.

It doesn't worry her that much. She takes her time in the waking; it's not often you get to wake up at your own pace, letting yourself come into it as you want to, and she relishes it, becoming more and more aware of the brightness of the forest, of the air around her, cool and bright.

She finally sits up, stretching and yawning a little, and stands up, wandering a little in one direction when she thinks she hears sounds, smiles when she sees him in the stream. "Buenos dias," she calls, running a hand through her hair and sitting down beside the stream.

[mute_clay]

The water is still night-cold so he's only rolled up his trouser legs to wade out in the water. His hair is wed and when he looks up at her, grinning, he looks awake. And amused at her sleepy look.

The water is nice. And cold. But there is no need to tell her that before she gets into it. It'll wake her up for sure.

Later today, maybe we should try to catch a fish? Further upstream. It gets bigger there.

[caraghdelaluna]

Caragh smiles and nods. "That'd be fun, yeah," she says. "Try being the operative word, right? Because I can tell you right now, I'm going to need all the help I can get."

She laughs, and dips a hand in the water. Then gives a little surprised yelp. "Tiene fria," she said, and splashed some at him. "You didn't tell me it was cold!"

[mute_clay]

He laughed soundlessly. It wakes you up. That's good. You should come in. It isn't so bad, once you are in. He does look like he is enjoying himself, water splashed at him or no.

Time is different in the Forest. It stretches and slows and he is happy about that.

[caraghdelaluna]

She splashes him again when he laughs, although she's grinning herself. She wore shorts to sleep in, and a plain white cotton shirt, and she steps carefully in, hissing softly at the cold.

The light's beautiful, though. The sun. It glitters off the water, filtering through the branches. Clay's right, the cold does wake you up. She leans down and splashes some on her face, gasping again at the cold of it, and then looks around, taking everything in through her more open eyes.