FA+
Shop
4133
Views
Views
172
Favorites
Favorites
Category
Artwork (Digital) / General Furry Art
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Multiple characters
Size 1280 x 800
File Size 589.1 kB
★
More from Wielder
Listed in Folders
Skyrim: Intensity
In his dreams, the Cat had become as great an enigma as she had in his waking hours.
He couldn't say he felt apathetic towards her. Being the leader of a comparatively small rebel faction, he cared to some degree for each life that pledged itself to his cause. The same could be said for the Cat with a Colovian accent. Then there was the matter of admiration. He'd respected her drive, her will, her cleverness. All things that would make her a decent addition to his forces if she could carve out a place in them.
And she had. Against the odds and with his help, she had. Through their shared experiences, he'd begun to like her. He'd begun to look for her in the training yard, in various Stormcloak camps, in the snow-dusted streets of Windhelm. Just a friendly smile, a bit of traveling news, a shared joke...
...and he'd started to look for her in his dreams as well.
Sometimes, their meeting was characterized by gentle smiles. Perhaps sitting together under the stars somewhere in the vastness of his homeland. Sometimes, they touched, often accidentally...the brush of a shoulder, a finger grazing the knuckles of the other's hand. Sometimes not. Always, there was some wordless communication, a long gaze, a mirrored smile.
Sometimes, the meeting was much more passionate. An argument, a misunderstanding...things that in his waking hours he knew to be the remnants of guilt he felt over how they'd each treated each other at first. Instead of breaking away from one another, they'd draw in closer but not as though either wanted to truly fight. It was magnetism, like the earth drawing lightning from the clouds above. Glare would test glare until slowly, their eyes would lose the heat, until they'd both realize how close they were to one another. Then boundaries would be tested.
In these dreams, each breath, each look was marked by its intensity, each touch a metaphor for something he knew had a place in real life. Though often the strength of his hands was greater, the softness of hers gentled them. The confidence of his stare tempered the fury in hers. Once satisfied that, in spite of their disagreement, she was calm, he'd pull her to him, longing to be closer for reasons neither the real man nor the shadow of the one in the sleeping world knew but surely felt. Though the Cat still seemed suspicious of him and his actions, she allowed all of this, and as the distance between them lessened, those wild eyes would begin to close...
If the dream ever reached conclusion, he didn't remember it the following morning. For the most part, he'd stuff the false memories into the back of his mind and deal with the larger issues of the real world around him. Still, when he'd see her, his heart would skip a beat, he'd feel his cheeks begin to flush, and he'd avert his gaze when hers looked at him, full of questions as to why the fool Nord had seemed to be staring at her.
Early on in their dealings with one another, Ulfric, while generally fair to Iona compared to how most humans have treated her in the past, is not exactly "liberal" in his views of her, if you will. Often calls her "Khajiit" or "Cat"..."Branded One", so on. It doesn't take exactly long for that to stop, but it is a noticeable thing in the beginning.
Also, this is digital...ENTIRELY. Done in Clip Studio Paint or whatever. AND IT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE COMPLETE ASS. Give Auntie Weedurrr a fuckin' cookie.
He couldn't say he felt apathetic towards her. Being the leader of a comparatively small rebel faction, he cared to some degree for each life that pledged itself to his cause. The same could be said for the Cat with a Colovian accent. Then there was the matter of admiration. He'd respected her drive, her will, her cleverness. All things that would make her a decent addition to his forces if she could carve out a place in them.
And she had. Against the odds and with his help, she had. Through their shared experiences, he'd begun to like her. He'd begun to look for her in the training yard, in various Stormcloak camps, in the snow-dusted streets of Windhelm. Just a friendly smile, a bit of traveling news, a shared joke...
...and he'd started to look for her in his dreams as well.
Sometimes, their meeting was characterized by gentle smiles. Perhaps sitting together under the stars somewhere in the vastness of his homeland. Sometimes, they touched, often accidentally...the brush of a shoulder, a finger grazing the knuckles of the other's hand. Sometimes not. Always, there was some wordless communication, a long gaze, a mirrored smile.
Sometimes, the meeting was much more passionate. An argument, a misunderstanding...things that in his waking hours he knew to be the remnants of guilt he felt over how they'd each treated each other at first. Instead of breaking away from one another, they'd draw in closer but not as though either wanted to truly fight. It was magnetism, like the earth drawing lightning from the clouds above. Glare would test glare until slowly, their eyes would lose the heat, until they'd both realize how close they were to one another. Then boundaries would be tested.
In these dreams, each breath, each look was marked by its intensity, each touch a metaphor for something he knew had a place in real life. Though often the strength of his hands was greater, the softness of hers gentled them. The confidence of his stare tempered the fury in hers. Once satisfied that, in spite of their disagreement, she was calm, he'd pull her to him, longing to be closer for reasons neither the real man nor the shadow of the one in the sleeping world knew but surely felt. Though the Cat still seemed suspicious of him and his actions, she allowed all of this, and as the distance between them lessened, those wild eyes would begin to close...
If the dream ever reached conclusion, he didn't remember it the following morning. For the most part, he'd stuff the false memories into the back of his mind and deal with the larger issues of the real world around him. Still, when he'd see her, his heart would skip a beat, he'd feel his cheeks begin to flush, and he'd avert his gaze when hers looked at him, full of questions as to why the fool Nord had seemed to be staring at her.
Early on in their dealings with one another, Ulfric, while generally fair to Iona compared to how most humans have treated her in the past, is not exactly "liberal" in his views of her, if you will. Often calls her "Khajiit" or "Cat"..."Branded One", so on. It doesn't take exactly long for that to stop, but it is a noticeable thing in the beginning.
Also, this is digital...ENTIRELY. Done in Clip Studio Paint or whatever. AND IT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE COMPLETE ASS. Give Auntie Weedurrr a fuckin' cookie.
Category Artwork (Digital) / General Furry Art
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Multiple characters
Size 1280 x 800px
File Size 589.1 kB
Comments