..And when the woman turned there he would be. A towering gentle giant with a long arm out for her taking. He hadn't meant to arrive and stay so still and ghastly, as though he were another tombstone himself, offering quiet eyes to her pain. But her hunched over frame so legions of that weight upon her and it raked at him, for he had always regarded this Fae as one of the sweeter notes to this land and it's regions. A spirit true and kind and genuine. He hoped from his black jacket his hand would be warm and his eyes not those of a stranger's.
The last he had seen of her was clear in his mind, as his eyes ran across her ocean blue locks. The last he had seen her they had been of ink, dark and in lushcious waves, framing that divine little face. She was so elemental, so feminine, so dastardly female, and though even as a distant friend he could appreciate her nuances, and could understand how Skyler, who albeit had not taken to Bernie so kindly for whatever reason that had been, would find her enchanting.
"Jewell", the gentleman offered, wincing a smile and extending his other arm. His coat whipped and flared about him. Descended dark angel.
Yes, he did remember that last encounter. His thinking then and now on her nature. He had plucked from his mouth a seemingly endless scarf of myriad colours and she had worn it gratefully. It had accented her colourful spirit, alive and vivacious. As vibrant she stirred as this blue shade to her hair, that he had never seen.
"I am here"
Out of nowhere and nothing, the King of Nowhere offered his embrace. He had felt urged to this place, to her provocation through this death. He had seen the enscription upon the Grave's head upon stepping out of the lines of tree, and knew then the immense loss she was reeling within and from. Trying to.
"Let me take you?
Bernie could stand like this for hours. For days. Awaiting her turn to face him. He had the patience of a mountain.
Yet, he could smell the wastelands of white sand and red skies. Purple clouds heavy with mist. He wanted to show her the Dreamwalk, as he had always meant to. He was not a man that was forceful, though he felt his actions to be sure in her case.
To heal now, to help. He was her Guide, the coachman for her Pain, if she would have it.
The last he had seen of her was clear in his mind, as his eyes ran across her ocean blue locks. The last he had seen her they had been of ink, dark and in lushcious waves, framing that divine little face. She was so elemental, so feminine, so dastardly female, and though even as a distant friend he could appreciate her nuances, and could understand how Skyler, who albeit had not taken to Bernie so kindly for whatever reason that had been, would find her enchanting.
"Jewell", the gentleman offered, wincing a smile and extending his other arm. His coat whipped and flared about him. Descended dark angel.
Yes, he did remember that last encounter. His thinking then and now on her nature. He had plucked from his mouth a seemingly endless scarf of myriad colours and she had worn it gratefully. It had accented her colourful spirit, alive and vivacious. As vibrant she stirred as this blue shade to her hair, that he had never seen.
"I am here"
Out of nowhere and nothing, the King of Nowhere offered his embrace. He had felt urged to this place, to her provocation through this death. He had seen the enscription upon the Grave's head upon stepping out of the lines of tree, and knew then the immense loss she was reeling within and from. Trying to.
"Let me take you?
Bernie could stand like this for hours. For days. Awaiting her turn to face him. He had the patience of a mountain.
Yet, he could smell the wastelands of white sand and red skies. Purple clouds heavy with mist. He wanted to show her the Dreamwalk, as he had always meant to. He was not a man that was forceful, though he felt his actions to be sure in her case.
To heal now, to help. He was her Guide, the coachman for her Pain, if she would have it.