Post by Kesterel on Apr 1, 2006 4:25:17 GMT -5
The forest was in the throws of Spring. The native wild flowers were pushing their bobbing heads up from beneath the needle-strewn floor, the little early dawn light that had managed to filter its way down through the thick dark canopy illuminating their still-closed hearts in pale pinks and yellows, the odd flush of pale green flickering silver pale; all was enchanted in the thorny wood. Some of the multi coloured lights dipped their nodding heads toward a brightness that outshone even the best of their efforts. On a bed of fresh curling fern and bracken there lay a figure of a sleeping woman, but she was no mere mortal; she was a creature of impossible beauty, naked and uncovered upon her natural springy mattress. Her white arms were at her head, her body twisted elegantly just off to one side, the effortlessly alluring position emphasising each and every one of her perfect curves, her flat but toned musculature neither tensed nor relaxed; the image of a goddess of the heavens transported undisturbed in her sleep to an earthly bed.
Gradually the sun's rays grew stronger, the dappled green light dancing across her bright skin until eventually the femme's natural ethereal light - that which radiated from within - was slowly matched and counted by that from without. In the new and gathering light she no longer shone with the cool glow of the full moon unsullied by cloud, but blazed with the light and heat of the sun; her hair, which framed her exquisitely carven facial features, was now revealed as that of spun gold, long silken and shimmering, reflecting the dawn light with an almost mirror-like quality. This was Kesterel of the Nephilim, a creature of fire and light, heat radiated from her very skin, hard as diamonds and soft as moonlight she was, as remote as the distant stars but tangible and present as the spring flowers that bloomed at her feet. Lying there as she was, unconscious and alone, she could still inspire both lust and terror in all things mortal - even the small creatures of the forest would still themselves and silence whilst in her vicinity until she bade them do otherwise. A mistress of all things of the earth and sun and stars, greatest among her sisters and ancient as the hills, feared and loved by all those who beheld her.
A sigh - a wondrously delightful caressing breath, more pleasing than a cool breeze on a summer's noon - passed her soft lips, and with the briefest of flutters her eyes opened, revealing instantly their clear crystalline depths. Like pale amethysts they shone, the hue of Parma violets left out in the spring rain, but not a trace of the sleep of men could be seen, for such it was with the Nephilim. A hint of a smile crossed her perfect mouth, and with unrivalled grace she rose and stretched, those heavenly muscles taught and tantalising, more relaxed and controlled than the rippling movements of the ancient great cats out of Africa. Her head tilted to one side as her eyes closed in slow relish of the morning sun, that impossibly coloured hair cascading down her beautiful back like some golden waterfall lit with the sheen of the moon, warmer and softer than both, a union of both night and day. A cool breeze shuffled past, but no bumps raised on her clear skin, but those washed-out eyes snapped open, a predatory glint flickering in their radiant depths. Her left hand stretched slowly out toward the smooth bark of a lone beech, a silver-grey pillar in the pale light, its already unfurling leaves both furry and bright. A glance upward and the creature beneath its boughs smiled again as a single line of though passed through her keen and ancient mind.
Nature's first green is gold...
How apt. The beech leaves above shone with a pleasant yellow sheen; Spring indeed was here at last - Kesterel could sense it all around her. The scent of the flowers, the slight tang of pollen on her tongue, fresh green underfoot; even the renewed throbbing energy in the smooth grey trunk beneath her slender hand did not escape her. But more than this; Spring was the time of awakening, even mortal men felt its pull, though most would not acknowledge it. Kesterel sighed once more, that otherworldly breath seeming to enhance the surrounding air with some sweet scent, and released the tree from her grasp, instead tracing the flowing contours of her own body with the backs of her fingers. Down they ran, lighter than feathers, over her curving breast and flat stomach, coming to an easy rest upon one hip. Hypnotic was her figure, but none were her to witness. Not yet.
Two long but elegant strides and she reached the branch where her clothes were stored, though perhaps 'had been flung' would have been more accurate. All that lay there was a shirt and loose trousers, both woven of the same snow-white linen, unstained and untainted despite having lain unattended all night in the wood, bare shades apart from her own alabaster skin. She dresses quickly and simply, now that there were none here to watch, but her feet remained bare, for Kesterel of the Nephilim would ever go unshod through the world so long as there were things to feel. Once this tiresome but necessary task of dressing was complete, the golden creature stole a glance at the rising sun, those violet eyes staring down the yellow orb unflinchingly.
Today was Spring renewed, and men would be frisky. How glad Kesterel would be to satisfy.bg
Gradually the sun's rays grew stronger, the dappled green light dancing across her bright skin until eventually the femme's natural ethereal light - that which radiated from within - was slowly matched and counted by that from without. In the new and gathering light she no longer shone with the cool glow of the full moon unsullied by cloud, but blazed with the light and heat of the sun; her hair, which framed her exquisitely carven facial features, was now revealed as that of spun gold, long silken and shimmering, reflecting the dawn light with an almost mirror-like quality. This was Kesterel of the Nephilim, a creature of fire and light, heat radiated from her very skin, hard as diamonds and soft as moonlight she was, as remote as the distant stars but tangible and present as the spring flowers that bloomed at her feet. Lying there as she was, unconscious and alone, she could still inspire both lust and terror in all things mortal - even the small creatures of the forest would still themselves and silence whilst in her vicinity until she bade them do otherwise. A mistress of all things of the earth and sun and stars, greatest among her sisters and ancient as the hills, feared and loved by all those who beheld her.
A sigh - a wondrously delightful caressing breath, more pleasing than a cool breeze on a summer's noon - passed her soft lips, and with the briefest of flutters her eyes opened, revealing instantly their clear crystalline depths. Like pale amethysts they shone, the hue of Parma violets left out in the spring rain, but not a trace of the sleep of men could be seen, for such it was with the Nephilim. A hint of a smile crossed her perfect mouth, and with unrivalled grace she rose and stretched, those heavenly muscles taught and tantalising, more relaxed and controlled than the rippling movements of the ancient great cats out of Africa. Her head tilted to one side as her eyes closed in slow relish of the morning sun, that impossibly coloured hair cascading down her beautiful back like some golden waterfall lit with the sheen of the moon, warmer and softer than both, a union of both night and day. A cool breeze shuffled past, but no bumps raised on her clear skin, but those washed-out eyes snapped open, a predatory glint flickering in their radiant depths. Her left hand stretched slowly out toward the smooth bark of a lone beech, a silver-grey pillar in the pale light, its already unfurling leaves both furry and bright. A glance upward and the creature beneath its boughs smiled again as a single line of though passed through her keen and ancient mind.
Nature's first green is gold...
How apt. The beech leaves above shone with a pleasant yellow sheen; Spring indeed was here at last - Kesterel could sense it all around her. The scent of the flowers, the slight tang of pollen on her tongue, fresh green underfoot; even the renewed throbbing energy in the smooth grey trunk beneath her slender hand did not escape her. But more than this; Spring was the time of awakening, even mortal men felt its pull, though most would not acknowledge it. Kesterel sighed once more, that otherworldly breath seeming to enhance the surrounding air with some sweet scent, and released the tree from her grasp, instead tracing the flowing contours of her own body with the backs of her fingers. Down they ran, lighter than feathers, over her curving breast and flat stomach, coming to an easy rest upon one hip. Hypnotic was her figure, but none were her to witness. Not yet.
Two long but elegant strides and she reached the branch where her clothes were stored, though perhaps 'had been flung' would have been more accurate. All that lay there was a shirt and loose trousers, both woven of the same snow-white linen, unstained and untainted despite having lain unattended all night in the wood, bare shades apart from her own alabaster skin. She dresses quickly and simply, now that there were none here to watch, but her feet remained bare, for Kesterel of the Nephilim would ever go unshod through the world so long as there were things to feel. Once this tiresome but necessary task of dressing was complete, the golden creature stole a glance at the rising sun, those violet eyes staring down the yellow orb unflinchingly.
Today was Spring renewed, and men would be frisky. How glad Kesterel would be to satisfy.bg