wynne-york, gwenaëlle. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trouvaille) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middaeg2020-01-05 01:13 pm
trouvaille) wrote in middaeg2020-01-05 01:13 pm
Entry tags:
a woman like that is not a woman, quite.
Who: Gwenaëlle & Eren
When: Sometime this month prior to mod events.
Where: Riverside
What: Yoga.
Warnings: TBA if necessary.
( winter's cold has never particularly bothered gwenaëlle. it was a problem when she thought she was human, something to downplay; wearing a cardigan when someone else did and sitting inside when she didn't want to. endless trips to the doctor as a small child about her poor circulation until her father had intervened, stridently decrying the concern as nonsense when his own cooler body temperature had never done him any harm, anne. now and especially here, where she sometimes catches rainbows shimmering over skin she's noticed milkier and more pearl than the opalescent blue-tinge she'd grown accustomed to, it's just—a thing about herself. she is five foot three. her teeth are very sharp. she likes the cold.
this is all a very longwinded way of saying: so what if it's whatever they call january here, if she wants to do yoga outdoors, she's fucking well going to. she's not yet located—has not yet made a real effort to locate—a dance studio or gym or whatever equivalent might be available, but she does like the river, even if the commercial nature of it and the harbor means the water is...
less than ideal. not as bad as some she's been in, though. for now she's on dry land, but the nearness suits her, its comfort more psychological than practical now that it isn't specifically freshwater she relies on so much. she's been irritable and out of sorts, lately, sleeping poorly—nothing she isn't used to, so the fact that stretching her foot high behind her into the splits as she dips gracefully forward isn't actually making her feel better is insult to injury, and doing very little for her mood. the cool air and the calm should help, but they don't—maybe she just needs to give it time. putin is sat nearby, guarding her belongings and placidly waiting as if he could wait as long as she liked. it may be a while. )
When: Sometime this month prior to mod events.
Where: Riverside
What: Yoga.
Warnings: TBA if necessary.
( winter's cold has never particularly bothered gwenaëlle. it was a problem when she thought she was human, something to downplay; wearing a cardigan when someone else did and sitting inside when she didn't want to. endless trips to the doctor as a small child about her poor circulation until her father had intervened, stridently decrying the concern as nonsense when his own cooler body temperature had never done him any harm, anne. now and especially here, where she sometimes catches rainbows shimmering over skin she's noticed milkier and more pearl than the opalescent blue-tinge she'd grown accustomed to, it's just—a thing about herself. she is five foot three. her teeth are very sharp. she likes the cold.
this is all a very longwinded way of saying: so what if it's whatever they call january here, if she wants to do yoga outdoors, she's fucking well going to. she's not yet located—has not yet made a real effort to locate—a dance studio or gym or whatever equivalent might be available, but she does like the river, even if the commercial nature of it and the harbor means the water is...
less than ideal. not as bad as some she's been in, though. for now she's on dry land, but the nearness suits her, its comfort more psychological than practical now that it isn't specifically freshwater she relies on so much. she's been irritable and out of sorts, lately, sleeping poorly—nothing she isn't used to, so the fact that stretching her foot high behind her into the splits as she dips gracefully forward isn't actually making her feel better is insult to injury, and doing very little for her mood. the cool air and the calm should help, but they don't—maybe she just needs to give it time. putin is sat nearby, guarding her belongings and placidly waiting as if he could wait as long as she liked. it may be a while. )