>Shaking his head, he frowns, and places the brush and pallet to the
side. Stepping backward, he inches toward his bed on bare feet. Bumping
gently into it, he just seems to stare at the latest of the Dusk series.
And there he sits for a good couple of hours.. transfixed and
mesmerized.
<softly> Knock. Knock. Knock. Silence.
The door to Jackson's room opens, well-oiled hinges on the newly built inn
doors offer no sound. A head of honeyed auburn locks with spell-binding
emerald eyes set into an warm face peer 'round the door's edge. Curiosity,
mischievousness, and a glow of happiness graced Kylie's features as she
called out vivaciously as she glanced around the room that was fastly
becoming a storage area for his recent flood of paintings.
"You've slept late...that'll be the only excuse you've left up your
painter's sleeve for missing our appointment this morning..." her tone is
teasing and light. There was no need for anything else, they'd enough on
their minds to worry them of late, especially with no word from the mainland
as to their friends' well-being amidst the plague. Kylie reminded herself to
talk to Jackson later about trying to travel to Drache.
As she stepped into the room fully, her nose twitched and she nearly sneezed
at the scent of the fresh paint. The intoxication of it was on the edge of
overwhelming to her keen senses. Kylie's eyes watered a moment before she
blinked her vision clear and found the object of her interest. Jackson was a
virtual statue of his own design, propped up against the farthest part of
his narrow bed and clad in whatever he'd slept in. He was always a sight to
behold.
Head tilted, strands of shining hair tucked back behind a delicate ear,
eyebrows raised slightly, she studied him. Kylie then paused across the
room, almost standing in front of his latest work with nary a glance to it.
She loved his paintings so much, but just now she was focused on how
transfixed he seemed, as if in a spell of sorts, staring past her. A shiver
of last year's horrors crept over the girl's soul, passing just as quickly
as it came. Quietly she inquired, "You a'right luv?"
He didn't seem to hear her, and she shifted her leather boots in a half step
over the wooden floor. Dressed simply for a ride in soft hide jodphurs and a
newly spun sheep's wool sweater over a white cotton shirt, the girl looked
well-suited for anything...a wrestle in the hay, a rousing game of cards, a
sparring match if need be. Kylie moistened her lips against the dry air and
took in a breath to gather the words of another tender attempt to speak to
Jackson, but instead she inhaled a gulp of poignant fresh paint scent. Her
body shook with the unexpected sneeze, eyes watering, blinking quickly as
she turned her head away.
Embarrassed, Kylie moved quickly to the one window in the room, talking
through a strangled choke, "Do you mind...if I leave the window ajar....just
now?" The words no sooner left her lips before she was allowing the sweet
island breeze into the room. Bracing her hands against the window frame,
Kylie looked out over the view, gaining her composure quickly. She'd beat
this affliction; all she needed was to spend more time around the paints.
The odd scent was already something she cherished about Jackson, now if only
her olafactory glands would adapt.
>the letter flips in her fingers, and the gold lacquer catches the first
>rays
of the morning sun with a little flash.
Sharp wolf eyes narrowed. Warning hairs stood up against Kylie's skin. The
scent was too obvious on the island breeze, if Kylie could but clear her
nose of the paint soon enough.
>Body taught she sits on the branch of a tree staring into the painter's
>window. Here she sits again, the flame of eternity burning within her
>heart,
>swallowing her soul deep within those violet eyes. Eyes so lit in the early
>morning light that the sun seemed to rise within them, reds shimmering
>softly on the surface. Her soft chestnut locks lay in sensuous curls about
>her shoulders, and no hood hides her today. Her cloak was off and draped on
>the branch beside her. Gracing her lithe but powerful form is a loose
>violet
>shirt that nearly shows her shoulders, a pair of deep brown pants tucked
>into black boots. Where such pale skin would make ladies look garish, hers
>seemed alight with the desires that tempted it.
Who was this...woman...in a tree? She appeared familiar, as if Kylie could
recall coming across her somehow but not having exchanged words. Perhaps in
the small village market? But why was she staring into Jackson's room? There
were a few other windows facing this side of the inn, but the instinct
wouldn't shake off. The woman hardly resembled a Drachian Jackson Groupie
(DJG), lacking the telltale orange tunic and breaking into uncontrollable
screams every second. Jack and Ky could do without any of those on the
island retreat just now.
Kylie couldn't quite place that she'd seen this woman rendered in Jackson's
Dusk paintings, and it was just as well that she couldn't.
Amused, Kylie said to Jackson, "You've a rather strange bird perched outside
your window...and I don't think it's a DJG..." while to the woman, she
called out across the crisp morning air, taking another cleansing breath
that rushed the woman's lavender scent to her, "How's the view from up
there?" A narrow gaze of recognition followed the words.
http://www.bittersweet.f2s.com/kylie/
~~~~~~
"she looked so fine,
i said baby what's on your mind?
she said 'i want to run like the lion
released from the cages,
released from the rages
burning in my soul tonight...'"
_________________________________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.com.
Share information about yourself, create your own public profile at
http://profiles.msn.com.
--
To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
[EMAIL PROTECTED] with "unsubscribe dragontales" in the body of the message.
