roar like an open fire
02-06-2018, 07:44 AM
So she was a fighter, and guarding the borders was her duty, which was why she'd been keeping an eye on him - or so she claimed. Her question, about whether or not he had bad intentions, earned a soft grumble. "Depends who you're asking, I suppose," he admitted without hesitation. "Though considering Regulus knows I'm around, and has given me permission to enter Celestial's lands so long as I announce my presence, you're free to make a judgment call on my intentions." He wasn't being abrasive, just honest without divulging too much unnecessary information. He couldn't help but be reminded of something painfully familiar in her expression, though he couldn't quite place the regretful and mildly vacant demeanor that suddenly overtook her. He had long since learned to ignore his own more extreme feelings, to push them deep down until he could hardly even recall them - it was easier that way, he'd decided. But her words earned a rare, hearty laugh from him. "Maybe, but I highly doubt that." Diarmuid couldn't quite shake the feeling of uselessness that had wracked him for so long now. He had a purpose, in the big scheme of things, but he had nothing of importance to do in the present. That bothered him more than he dared let on. Her wistful words caught him off guard. "I can't imagine many things in life worth forgetting," he retorted gently, shrugging his shoulders. Pain was something that helped build the spirits of wolves rather than break them down - nothing, in his opinion, was worth forgetting. "Though I suppose distractions can sometimes be pleasant. Tell me, woman who wants to forget, what's your name?" It seemed wolves in these lands were more apt to chatting, something he'd never been all that good at, though he leaned back against the base of the tree and peered at her curiously anyway. |
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