The temple, the forest, the lake.
Who: Kurama and Kuronue.
Where: Lake near the temple.
When: Night.
Summary: After several months of not talking to each other directly Kuronue invited Kurama to the temple to converse. Before visiting his acquaintance, Kurama wanders into the forest nearby.
Everything had resulted as it had been accurately planned, his parents and brother were blissfully asleep. The silence of slumber filled his house like a silken substance, almost tangible. A swift movement through the window, to the land on the frontyard soundlessly, imperceptible to the senses of an ordinary human. The recoil of his muscles strained the fresh wounds squeezing a myriad of blood beads out of the scar in his chest, dotting the linen bandage with crimson. A slight wince spread through his face forcing one of his eyes narrow to an arc, gritting his teeth he swallowed a pained groan swelling in his throat. Ignoring the stinging feeling engulfing his torso, he merely grazed his fingers through his tunic and paced away.
While crossing the garden his gaze wandered to the plagued rose bushes, auburn stains marred the once vibrant leaves with the same hunger rust corrodes metal. Yet they stood proudly amidst the foul vegetation. He would have to take care them soon, memorizing the task he turned back. His priorities were others in that moment.
It was easier for him to move in the night, no one would be alarmed by his elysian grace while crossing the park or picking alternative routes through the trees, waltzing between them with fluid movements. The most efficient way to arrive in half an hour.
The temple belonged to an area in the outskirts of the city, where the neon skyline dimmed before nature's beauty and the silence of the forest environed the hills with its velvety mantle. His eyes lost in the wild negritude of the landscape, deeply inhaling the scent of leaves, bamboo and earth. The careless mixture of fragrances drew a blissful curve upon his lips, perhaps attempting to soothe his unforgiving guilt. The hand still clamped to his wound reminded him of his human body, its weakness, its fragility, but also countless reasons why he had chosen that fate. If only Kuronue understood... Though he could not blame the winged apparition who had remained dead until few months ago while he continued to live, to grow...
His thoughts continued musing in his mind, leaving his awareness partially absorbed but always providently alert. Kurama's youki had been carefully masked so as not to alert whoever was observing Kuronue's territory, and his movements had been imperceptibly sly, after all he had once been an expert thief. He knew when he would be noticed and when not to, and decide when that would happen if it ever did. Always in the way it was most convenient to his plan.
He kept treading through the natural corridors the trees created, leading to a crystalline lake encircled by a bamboo forest. In the distance, the monotonous sound of a waterfall cascading down ancient boulders raising a ghostly veil of mist upon moss carpeted rocks rolling upon the lake's surface imbuing it with a dreamlike magic.
It was inviting, he had always relished to bathe in the secrecy of the forest and this would not be an exception. Removing his dark-blue shoes, he took a step into the lake, feeling the gentle temperature of the water caress his skin, rippling around his ankles. The azure mirror of the surface reflected the falling blue sash onto the coast, followed by the golden tunic and shirt between the rest of his clothes.
The kitsune's figure concealed by shadows and mist as he approached to the waterfall only dressed with the soft linen bandage around his chest. His hair languidly framed his visage, flowing streaks of deep vermilion reaching down to his chest, while the rest of his mane dangled on his back conveying a gracious vulpine tail, tips tickling his skin with a feathery touch. His eyes lowered to his torso, staring at the irregular crimson blotches scattered across it. Perhaps it would have been healthier to wait a week before visiting Kuronue, but in comparison to what the bat youkai had experienced, his injuries were nothing. The excruciating anguish of death, of his death. "I could never prioritize myself before Kuronue," he unconsciously mused before ripping his gaze from the bandage which was the last to fall. Resembled simple linen wrappings, but they were indeed the leaves of a rare plant with healing properties, rich in zinc without reaching the toxicity level. It was the most efficient plant he could summon, the side effects were of little importance even if they had manifested as an almost invisible blush.
Without those bandages walking would have been impossible.
Kurama stood under the waterfall, savoring the thermal water sliding down his wounded body, cleansing the gashes with its mineral attributes. Cool water dousing fevered flesh, soothing the acid pain afflicting it. The water slid through his hair, caressing his scalp, the skin of his neck grew with chilly goosebumps. For the first time in several days, he allowed himself to relax, even if it was for ten minutes. But his guard never faltered.
He took a step away from the pristine stream of water and summoned a another helpful ivy, ripped the leaves mending them into bandage which was tightly wrapped around his chest.
Kurama waded toward the coast serenely, granting time for his body to dry under the dusty moonlight. Shimmering like ethereal jewels the pearls of water faded from his chiseled torso as he finally slid his shirt on, followed by the rest of his attire. Fastening the navy sash around his waist, he steeped out of the lake, feeling less tense but still anxious about his future encounter.
Where: Lake near the temple.
When: Night.
Summary: After several months of not talking to each other directly Kuronue invited Kurama to the temple to converse. Before visiting his acquaintance, Kurama wanders into the forest nearby.
Everything had resulted as it had been accurately planned, his parents and brother were blissfully asleep. The silence of slumber filled his house like a silken substance, almost tangible. A swift movement through the window, to the land on the frontyard soundlessly, imperceptible to the senses of an ordinary human. The recoil of his muscles strained the fresh wounds squeezing a myriad of blood beads out of the scar in his chest, dotting the linen bandage with crimson. A slight wince spread through his face forcing one of his eyes narrow to an arc, gritting his teeth he swallowed a pained groan swelling in his throat. Ignoring the stinging feeling engulfing his torso, he merely grazed his fingers through his tunic and paced away.
While crossing the garden his gaze wandered to the plagued rose bushes, auburn stains marred the once vibrant leaves with the same hunger rust corrodes metal. Yet they stood proudly amidst the foul vegetation. He would have to take care them soon, memorizing the task he turned back. His priorities were others in that moment.
It was easier for him to move in the night, no one would be alarmed by his elysian grace while crossing the park or picking alternative routes through the trees, waltzing between them with fluid movements. The most efficient way to arrive in half an hour.
The temple belonged to an area in the outskirts of the city, where the neon skyline dimmed before nature's beauty and the silence of the forest environed the hills with its velvety mantle. His eyes lost in the wild negritude of the landscape, deeply inhaling the scent of leaves, bamboo and earth. The careless mixture of fragrances drew a blissful curve upon his lips, perhaps attempting to soothe his unforgiving guilt. The hand still clamped to his wound reminded him of his human body, its weakness, its fragility, but also countless reasons why he had chosen that fate. If only Kuronue understood... Though he could not blame the winged apparition who had remained dead until few months ago while he continued to live, to grow...
His thoughts continued musing in his mind, leaving his awareness partially absorbed but always providently alert. Kurama's youki had been carefully masked so as not to alert whoever was observing Kuronue's territory, and his movements had been imperceptibly sly, after all he had once been an expert thief. He knew when he would be noticed and when not to, and decide when that would happen if it ever did. Always in the way it was most convenient to his plan.
He kept treading through the natural corridors the trees created, leading to a crystalline lake encircled by a bamboo forest. In the distance, the monotonous sound of a waterfall cascading down ancient boulders raising a ghostly veil of mist upon moss carpeted rocks rolling upon the lake's surface imbuing it with a dreamlike magic.
It was inviting, he had always relished to bathe in the secrecy of the forest and this would not be an exception. Removing his dark-blue shoes, he took a step into the lake, feeling the gentle temperature of the water caress his skin, rippling around his ankles. The azure mirror of the surface reflected the falling blue sash onto the coast, followed by the golden tunic and shirt between the rest of his clothes.
The kitsune's figure concealed by shadows and mist as he approached to the waterfall only dressed with the soft linen bandage around his chest. His hair languidly framed his visage, flowing streaks of deep vermilion reaching down to his chest, while the rest of his mane dangled on his back conveying a gracious vulpine tail, tips tickling his skin with a feathery touch. His eyes lowered to his torso, staring at the irregular crimson blotches scattered across it. Perhaps it would have been healthier to wait a week before visiting Kuronue, but in comparison to what the bat youkai had experienced, his injuries were nothing. The excruciating anguish of death, of his death. "I could never prioritize myself before Kuronue," he unconsciously mused before ripping his gaze from the bandage which was the last to fall. Resembled simple linen wrappings, but they were indeed the leaves of a rare plant with healing properties, rich in zinc without reaching the toxicity level. It was the most efficient plant he could summon, the side effects were of little importance even if they had manifested as an almost invisible blush.
Without those bandages walking would have been impossible.
Kurama stood under the waterfall, savoring the thermal water sliding down his wounded body, cleansing the gashes with its mineral attributes. Cool water dousing fevered flesh, soothing the acid pain afflicting it. The water slid through his hair, caressing his scalp, the skin of his neck grew with chilly goosebumps. For the first time in several days, he allowed himself to relax, even if it was for ten minutes. But his guard never faltered.
He took a step away from the pristine stream of water and summoned a another helpful ivy, ripped the leaves mending them into bandage which was tightly wrapped around his chest.
Kurama waded toward the coast serenely, granting time for his body to dry under the dusty moonlight. Shimmering like ethereal jewels the pearls of water faded from his chiseled torso as he finally slid his shirt on, followed by the rest of his attire. Fastening the navy sash around his waist, he steeped out of the lake, feeling less tense but still anxious about his future encounter.