Happy Bunny Love
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
4,859
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
4,859
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter 2
It was many moments in the space of a heartbeat before she could move. Breathless and alive she began moving up the stream, to a place where it could be crossed. He moved with her, tentatively, hop by hop.
She felt like she could fly, as if the song in her blood could make her bouyant. It was as though the world was glowing, like her joy was as large and eternal as the sun breaking out from behind clouds. It was a happiness so profound the sheer enormity of it staggered her. Everything was clear, everything was focused on him. His fur was a silver shot through with lightning, as soft as clouds and cobwebs.
Everything around him was beautiful.
She could bear to look away from him only to marvel at the sun on the grass, on the stream; to catch her breath at the sky; to stare in awe at the path before her, as though to assure herself she was still on the ground, still moving forward. All her senses were enhanced. Looking at him, she could be transfixed by the play of light on his fur, the smooth movement of his body; and then his eyes would catch hers, catch her, and the world would still.
Slowly they made their way upstream, mirroring each other and amazed, caught between a rushing joy and a gasping shyness. Slowly and with dizzying quickness they arrived at the sand bank. He was quicker than she was, and he bounded across seemingly in the time it took her to look for a way across. He was in front of her as fast as dreaming, and it was not until that moment, watching him come to her, with all the grace and power and beauty a mortal form could muster that she realized she loved him, completely and utterly.
He was close now, close enough she could have touched him, close enough she had to stop herself from doing just that. They stood there a moment, as though shocked at their own audacity, wondering what to do next. And then he asked, simply, in a half whisper, "What is your name?"
Another moment more, as though savouring the illusion of an uncertain future; and then she surrendered, with no more thought than it took to love him.
"Oelanthe."
She felt like she could fly, as if the song in her blood could make her bouyant. It was as though the world was glowing, like her joy was as large and eternal as the sun breaking out from behind clouds. It was a happiness so profound the sheer enormity of it staggered her. Everything was clear, everything was focused on him. His fur was a silver shot through with lightning, as soft as clouds and cobwebs.
Everything around him was beautiful.
She could bear to look away from him only to marvel at the sun on the grass, on the stream; to catch her breath at the sky; to stare in awe at the path before her, as though to assure herself she was still on the ground, still moving forward. All her senses were enhanced. Looking at him, she could be transfixed by the play of light on his fur, the smooth movement of his body; and then his eyes would catch hers, catch her, and the world would still.
Slowly they made their way upstream, mirroring each other and amazed, caught between a rushing joy and a gasping shyness. Slowly and with dizzying quickness they arrived at the sand bank. He was quicker than she was, and he bounded across seemingly in the time it took her to look for a way across. He was in front of her as fast as dreaming, and it was not until that moment, watching him come to her, with all the grace and power and beauty a mortal form could muster that she realized she loved him, completely and utterly.
He was close now, close enough she could have touched him, close enough she had to stop herself from doing just that. They stood there a moment, as though shocked at their own audacity, wondering what to do next. And then he asked, simply, in a half whisper, "What is your name?"
Another moment more, as though savouring the illusion of an uncertain future; and then she surrendered, with no more thought than it took to love him.
"Oelanthe."