Post by Cygnus on Aug 14, 2019 14:12:35 GMT -6
[attr="class","plbase"]
[newclass=.pltxt]position: relative; z-index: 200; opacity: 0; transition: all 1.5s ease; -webkit-transition: all 1.5s ease; -moz-transition: all 1.5s ease;[/newclass][newclass=.plbase:hover .pltxt]opacity: .7;[/newclass][newclass=.pltxt::-webkit-scrollbar]width: 8px;[/newclass][newclass=.pltxt::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #403427;[/newclass]

[attr="class","pltxt"] he talks he thinks
Cygnus’ youthful form seemed to grow tenfold every day. He had begun to tower over his sisters long ago, and soon he imagined he would overtake his mother, too. It was right, he thought, that he should grow as tall as his father if he was to protect his family. Especially if that meant protecting them from his father, if it ever came to that. Vorilye claimed to love them, but Cygnus saw through the façade of congeniality and refused to fall for it. Draco had fallen for it, more fool him. He hadn’t seen his brother in a while now, but he was glad of it if it meant not seeing their father, either. Cygnus brute had everything he needed here.
It was a calm day at sea, and the weather had a calming effect on Cygnus’ mind, despite the adolescent angst that rattled around in his hormone-ridden body. The clouds knitted together and were torn apart again by the breeze, so the sun dipped in and out of sight, occasionally bursting forth in a fever of golden light that matched his eyes. Each time it happened, it made Cygnus smile. There were many simple pleasures in life, he was learning, and many complex ones, too. The sun warming him all the way to his bones was a simple one, and it required very little second thought. He could enjoy the sun’s triumphant emergence from the clouds without guilt or shame, but not everything was quite so straightforward.
Vasilios was not a particularly small pack, but the boy had not yet had many conversations with anyone who wasn’t a family member. And even then, he did not spend all that much time with his family. Cygnus hadn’t seen his mother in a long time, and he missed her quite desperately. Elara had definitely inherited a certain warmth from their mother, a soothing presence that neither he, nor Draco, nor their father had managed to develop. Cygnus wished that he could have that sort of aura, a kindly and open one, but instead he tended to withdraw. Despite the golden warmth of his appearance, Cygnus was quite the cold fellow sometimes. He did not mean to be, but he did not know how else to be.
The ocean breeze snatched his breath as soon as it left his lungs, and Cygnus chuckled softly at its greediness. He liked the ocean, an entity capable of both softness and power. It was both a protector to its inhabitants, as he had learnt the first time that he’d attempted fishing, and a threat to intruders. There was gentleness in the sea though, too, and neutrality, too. It acted as it did without thinking, without overthinking.
Cygnus picked his way across the rocky shore, careful to avoid sharp rocks and crabs, and savoured the myriad of sensations that battered his pelt: sun, wind, salt spray. All of it was enjoyable. All of it was worth feeling, worth relishing. Cygnus loved tactile experiences. He loved the way it drew him out of the dark depths of his mind and forced him to live in the moment rather than in his head. As a pup, he had wanted to touch everything, and that impulse had not yet waned. The brute had a lust for all things tangible, craving the concreteness of them. Touch was grounding, it helped to stop him floating away too much, though sometimes he would get as lost in the physical as he did in the mental. Everything seemed a void for Cygnus to get sucked into, so poor was his impulse control.
Cygnus’ youthful form seemed to grow tenfold every day. He had begun to tower over his sisters long ago, and soon he imagined he would overtake his mother, too. It was right, he thought, that he should grow as tall as his father if he was to protect his family. Especially if that meant protecting them from his father, if it ever came to that. Vorilye claimed to love them, but Cygnus saw through the façade of congeniality and refused to fall for it. Draco had fallen for it, more fool him. He hadn’t seen his brother in a while now, but he was glad of it if it meant not seeing their father, either. Cygnus brute had everything he needed here.
It was a calm day at sea, and the weather had a calming effect on Cygnus’ mind, despite the adolescent angst that rattled around in his hormone-ridden body. The clouds knitted together and were torn apart again by the breeze, so the sun dipped in and out of sight, occasionally bursting forth in a fever of golden light that matched his eyes. Each time it happened, it made Cygnus smile. There were many simple pleasures in life, he was learning, and many complex ones, too. The sun warming him all the way to his bones was a simple one, and it required very little second thought. He could enjoy the sun’s triumphant emergence from the clouds without guilt or shame, but not everything was quite so straightforward.
Vasilios was not a particularly small pack, but the boy had not yet had many conversations with anyone who wasn’t a family member. And even then, he did not spend all that much time with his family. Cygnus hadn’t seen his mother in a long time, and he missed her quite desperately. Elara had definitely inherited a certain warmth from their mother, a soothing presence that neither he, nor Draco, nor their father had managed to develop. Cygnus wished that he could have that sort of aura, a kindly and open one, but instead he tended to withdraw. Despite the golden warmth of his appearance, Cygnus was quite the cold fellow sometimes. He did not mean to be, but he did not know how else to be.
The ocean breeze snatched his breath as soon as it left his lungs, and Cygnus chuckled softly at its greediness. He liked the ocean, an entity capable of both softness and power. It was both a protector to its inhabitants, as he had learnt the first time that he’d attempted fishing, and a threat to intruders. There was gentleness in the sea though, too, and neutrality, too. It acted as it did without thinking, without overthinking.
Cygnus picked his way across the rocky shore, careful to avoid sharp rocks and crabs, and savoured the myriad of sensations that battered his pelt: sun, wind, salt spray. All of it was enjoyable. All of it was worth feeling, worth relishing. Cygnus loved tactile experiences. He loved the way it drew him out of the dark depths of his mind and forced him to live in the moment rather than in his head. As a pup, he had wanted to touch everything, and that impulse had not yet waned. The brute had a lust for all things tangible, craving the concreteness of them. Touch was grounding, it helped to stop him floating away too much, though sometimes he would get as lost in the physical as he did in the mental. Everything seemed a void for Cygnus to get sucked into, so poor was his impulse control.
[newclass=.pltxt]position: relative; z-index: 200; opacity: 0; transition: all 1.5s ease; -webkit-transition: all 1.5s ease; -moz-transition: all 1.5s ease;[/newclass][newclass=.plbase:hover .pltxt]opacity: .7;[/newclass][newclass=.pltxt::-webkit-scrollbar]width: 8px;[/newclass][newclass=.pltxt::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #403427;[/newclass]