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Little Risks WIP
Okari stared at herself in the mirror in front of her, making sure that her hakama were adjusted properly. A deep sigh rose and fell out of her chest. Once again, she would play the part of a man...it had been years since she had. It always felt like the lie it was. She yearned for the days when she was a warrior and a woman...for the days she denied her family name, dishonoring it so that she might restore its honor. Back then, it made so much more sense. Bending over, she retrieved the ecru wrapping and began to weave it around herself, front to back, trapping her ample breasts against her ribcage, adapting to the tightness around her torso. It was harder than she had remembered. "Have I forgotten it all?" she asked herself, slightly snarling at her ineptness. Then she smiled as she remembered how she and her wolf Samurai had lept across the ochaya garden at night, like rocks across the water. "Well, I suppose I haven't forgotten it all. At least, not the important parts."
Ragnarok had gotten up that morning, dressed in only his simple kimono and hakama, and rolled his futon up for the day. He sat on the tatami mat, legs folded under him, his arms out to the side, meditating in front of an incense burner that sat on a cherry wood table in the center of the sidewall. If he was to begin training, he would have to empty his mind of insecurities and expectations alike, things that come to a warrior when he has been dormant for many weeks. He had always had a gift for remaining calm in a storm or a battle, but something was stirring in the house, and undercurrent of defiance and will, and it was keeping him from reaching center. Finally realizing that he would not be able to focus until he found the source, he got up, sliding the door of his room open. He noticed immediately that the house was almost void of servants. Some were out in the fields, some were probably sent to the market, and the guards were doing their morning kata and practice. The floors were so smooth and clean that they shined with a golden hue and reflected his black feet perfectly as he tread silently through the house, ears turning as if he were listening to the aura the beckoned him.
He paused at Okari's door, a third of the way opened. Hesitantly, he peered in using his peripheral vision and quickly turned his head into the room, his fingers lightly grasping the wood of the door. Her back was a startling white with whispers of her blue sides eating into the design, making it taper down to the small of her back and spread across her curiously curled tail. Her blue hair was tied into a top knot, silky and shining in the light. The hakama she wore clung to her hips which moved with her shifted weight as she wrapped the bandage around her well toned frame slowly and methodically.
He was awakened from his daydream when she uttered a frustrated, "Damn!" Leaping back silently, he decided to stride forward and whisper at the door.
"Okari-san, is something wrong?"
He watched as her darker blue ears swiveled around, her head slowly turning with them, hands tightly clutching the ends of her binding. She looked somehow fragile then. She chuckled lightly and looked at him, "I must seem even stranger to you now, Nameless Samurai."
He thought about how off the mark she really was with that statement. That had been the last thing he was thinking about. "Forgive me for asking if it is not my place," he said, stepping into the room, hands folded behind his back, exposing his chest a little. He thought he caught her looking a little too long before she turned her head to the side. "But why does the Lady of the house dress like a common Samurai this morning?"
"There is a duty I must perform this morning that is not a woman's place to do," she answered without duplicity.
He nodded, thinking how much of a shame it was that she was hiding her form. The wolf turned to leave but was stopped by her voice.
"Ragnarok," she began, turning her back to him. "Would you be willing to help me wrap this properly? Jade has gone to town on errands, and I can't seem to get this right by myself."
How could he refuse? How could he accept? The decision was truly made with her request alone. Pivoting, he stepped forward, behind her instantly. She could feel the warmth of his body though he maintained a few inches of distance. Closer than ever, she felt her legs begin to tremble. Carefully, he took the wrap out of her hands, allowing his pawpads to feel the softness of her fur. Slowly, he began unwrapping her, watching her eyes in the mirror. When he got close to unwrapping her completely, he got closer to her, closing the distance completely, guiding her away from the mirror with the pressure of his hips. He was somewhat surprised when she obeyed and turned with him.
He began redressing her, keeping his eyes on her neck and the back of her head as his trained hands moved through muscle memory alone. Her arms were raised, her head tilted to the right. It was a perfect chance to test the waters. Perhaps she had tested him when she asked for his assistance in the first place. Here would be the trading of the first wall.
He softly placed his cheek against her upraised left arm, allowing him more access to her front as he continued the weaving motion, watching as his hands came so close to touching her but maintaining their distance. He noticed a change in her breathing and smiled a little. Maybe he wasn't incorrect about his private assumptions after all. "Is it too tight, Okari-san?"
His blood ran hot when he heard her reply in a husky voice, low and trembling, "No, it's fine." He felt her relax into his chest, her hips lightly pressed against his.
When he was done, he securely tied the wrapping behind her back and tucked the ends into the width of it. She turned around, nodding a thank you. He smiled in return and was about to leave when he felt her hand move into the side of his top, tickling over the muscles beneath ebony fur. She found his scar and traced it with her fingers. Her smile was a sad one. He wondered why. Then she began to remove the right side of his kimono, walking around to his right arm, running her fingers over the strange silver symbol on his upper arm. Here was his first wall.
"That's a strange marking, Samurai," she said, her fingers tracing the bright grey marking.
He nodded. "It's a gift from my Master."
She looked at him with that burning amber stare, content in the exchange. Pulling his kimono back up for him, she backed way, putting on a top of her own. For some reason, he felt comfortable enough to stay and watch. The top added the feel of power to her frame though he thought it did little to camouflage the curves of her hips or the delicate line of her neck and shoulders. She tucked a sword into the belt of her pants and strode out past him, her walk instantly becoming the march of a man. Curious, he followed her out onto the porch. She put her fingers to her mouth and whistled. The beat of hooves came around the corner of the house as a gorgeous black horse, already tacked, reared and stomped in front of them.
Okari smiled, petting the mane of the almost wild thing. "I know, I know, Old Friend, it's been a long time. We'll have to make this run count."
She mounted the horse effortlessly, turned to Ragnarok, and gave him a cocky grin. "I'll be back before sundown. Go to the fields where Genma will start to train you." The horse stamped impatiently. "Your training with me will start tonight." Her eyes glowed with wildfire at that last statement, and it made his hair stand on end.
She put the horse into an immediate gallop and began racing across the countryside, up the only road that passed by there, towards Kyoto. Today she would see an old friend for help. Today she would become what she once had been. All of this made her feel free. The wind in her hair, the four beats underneath her. But something else made her despair. Today, she would put her new friend back on the path to leaving her.
More Okari and Ragnarok.
Okari is mine, Ragnarok belongs to skyler-ragnarok.
Now off to more commission sketches.
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>
Ragnarok had gotten up that morning, dressed in only his simple kimono and hakama, and rolled his futon up for the day. He sat on the tatami mat, legs folded under him, his arms out to the side, meditating in front of an incense burner that sat on a cherry wood table in the center of the sidewall. If he was to begin training, he would have to empty his mind of insecurities and expectations alike, things that come to a warrior when he has been dormant for many weeks. He had always had a gift for remaining calm in a storm or a battle, but something was stirring in the house, and undercurrent of defiance and will, and it was keeping him from reaching center. Finally realizing that he would not be able to focus until he found the source, he got up, sliding the door of his room open. He noticed immediately that the house was almost void of servants. Some were out in the fields, some were probably sent to the market, and the guards were doing their morning kata and practice. The floors were so smooth and clean that they shined with a golden hue and reflected his black feet perfectly as he tread silently through the house, ears turning as if he were listening to the aura the beckoned him.
He paused at Okari's door, a third of the way opened. Hesitantly, he peered in using his peripheral vision and quickly turned his head into the room, his fingers lightly grasping the wood of the door. Her back was a startling white with whispers of her blue sides eating into the design, making it taper down to the small of her back and spread across her curiously curled tail. Her blue hair was tied into a top knot, silky and shining in the light. The hakama she wore clung to her hips which moved with her shifted weight as she wrapped the bandage around her well toned frame slowly and methodically.
He was awakened from his daydream when she uttered a frustrated, "Damn!" Leaping back silently, he decided to stride forward and whisper at the door.
"Okari-san, is something wrong?"
He watched as her darker blue ears swiveled around, her head slowly turning with them, hands tightly clutching the ends of her binding. She looked somehow fragile then. She chuckled lightly and looked at him, "I must seem even stranger to you now, Nameless Samurai."
He thought about how off the mark she really was with that statement. That had been the last thing he was thinking about. "Forgive me for asking if it is not my place," he said, stepping into the room, hands folded behind his back, exposing his chest a little. He thought he caught her looking a little too long before she turned her head to the side. "But why does the Lady of the house dress like a common Samurai this morning?"
"There is a duty I must perform this morning that is not a woman's place to do," she answered without duplicity.
He nodded, thinking how much of a shame it was that she was hiding her form. The wolf turned to leave but was stopped by her voice.
"Ragnarok," she began, turning her back to him. "Would you be willing to help me wrap this properly? Jade has gone to town on errands, and I can't seem to get this right by myself."
How could he refuse? How could he accept? The decision was truly made with her request alone. Pivoting, he stepped forward, behind her instantly. She could feel the warmth of his body though he maintained a few inches of distance. Closer than ever, she felt her legs begin to tremble. Carefully, he took the wrap out of her hands, allowing his pawpads to feel the softness of her fur. Slowly, he began unwrapping her, watching her eyes in the mirror. When he got close to unwrapping her completely, he got closer to her, closing the distance completely, guiding her away from the mirror with the pressure of his hips. He was somewhat surprised when she obeyed and turned with him.
He began redressing her, keeping his eyes on her neck and the back of her head as his trained hands moved through muscle memory alone. Her arms were raised, her head tilted to the right. It was a perfect chance to test the waters. Perhaps she had tested him when she asked for his assistance in the first place. Here would be the trading of the first wall.
He softly placed his cheek against her upraised left arm, allowing him more access to her front as he continued the weaving motion, watching as his hands came so close to touching her but maintaining their distance. He noticed a change in her breathing and smiled a little. Maybe he wasn't incorrect about his private assumptions after all. "Is it too tight, Okari-san?"
His blood ran hot when he heard her reply in a husky voice, low and trembling, "No, it's fine." He felt her relax into his chest, her hips lightly pressed against his.
When he was done, he securely tied the wrapping behind her back and tucked the ends into the width of it. She turned around, nodding a thank you. He smiled in return and was about to leave when he felt her hand move into the side of his top, tickling over the muscles beneath ebony fur. She found his scar and traced it with her fingers. Her smile was a sad one. He wondered why. Then she began to remove the right side of his kimono, walking around to his right arm, running her fingers over the strange silver symbol on his upper arm. Here was his first wall.
"That's a strange marking, Samurai," she said, her fingers tracing the bright grey marking.
He nodded. "It's a gift from my Master."
She looked at him with that burning amber stare, content in the exchange. Pulling his kimono back up for him, she backed way, putting on a top of her own. For some reason, he felt comfortable enough to stay and watch. The top added the feel of power to her frame though he thought it did little to camouflage the curves of her hips or the delicate line of her neck and shoulders. She tucked a sword into the belt of her pants and strode out past him, her walk instantly becoming the march of a man. Curious, he followed her out onto the porch. She put her fingers to her mouth and whistled. The beat of hooves came around the corner of the house as a gorgeous black horse, already tacked, reared and stomped in front of them.
Okari smiled, petting the mane of the almost wild thing. "I know, I know, Old Friend, it's been a long time. We'll have to make this run count."
She mounted the horse effortlessly, turned to Ragnarok, and gave him a cocky grin. "I'll be back before sundown. Go to the fields where Genma will start to train you." The horse stamped impatiently. "Your training with me will start tonight." Her eyes glowed with wildfire at that last statement, and it made his hair stand on end.
She put the horse into an immediate gallop and began racing across the countryside, up the only road that passed by there, towards Kyoto. Today she would see an old friend for help. Today she would become what she once had been. All of this made her feel free. The wind in her hair, the four beats underneath her. But something else made her despair. Today, she would put her new friend back on the path to leaving her.
More Okari and Ragnarok.
Okari is mine, Ragnarok belongs to skyler-ragnarok.
Now off to more commission sketches.
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>
Category Artwork (Traditional) / General Furry Art
Species Wolf
Size 602 x 893px
File Size 52.5 kB
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