I am Not My Own
07-11-2013, 11:51 PM
He had expected an immediate barrage of names, not the quiet silence that followed suit. Song was never quiet; it was completely unlike her. Dark brows furrowed, creasing over ivory jade and steel pools. Something was wrong. He could see the sudden stop of all activity, both physical and mental, and a faraway look take a hold of her topaz and sure gems. What was she thinking about. Obsidian muzzle was lowered, mismatched gaze trying to find his wife's but she wouldn't meet his. She was somewhere else, somewhere other than their den. Before he could ask what was wrong a flash of fear took hold of her eyes and she looked towards him with a look he had never seen and he wished to never see again. She was breathing deeply, as if trying to calm herself. Just as he was leaning to try and comfort her his wife began spluttering and coughing, backing away from him, burst from their den. His heart rose up into his throat, his blood freezing in his veins. Song! Limbs unscrambled themselves from the black knight as he rushed outside to his mate's side, his throat constricting around the lump in his throat. What was going on with his wife? Why was she acting like this? She kept her head low to the ground, as if in case her stomach decided to turn itself inside out. Cherokee, I'm so scared. He moved in front of her, lowering his muzzle at her level, worried dual-toned eyes trying to meet hers, muzzle bumping hers gently. My little angel, what's wrong? Why did you run out like that? And why are you scared? Talk to me please... Uncertainty was clear in his voice was he crooned to his wife, trying to keep his anxiety over her outburst to himself. Talk like this |