Lips Of An Angel

N/A · 07-15-2013, 10:37 PM

He thanked her. He had actually used the words thank you to show his gratitude for her having saved his life. Twice if he was counting the second time from after he fainted. Gratitude. Who would've ever thought that this killer of his own kin, who enjoyed listening to their tortured cries would ever feel any kind of gratitude towards any other wolf, much less a near yearling. Was it a miracle? Quite possibly. This probably would've never happened had he not run into this little medic. Was it fate? He didn't think there were such things as coincidences. Things happened for a reason. He was always there at the right time to torture his victims. Had this little nymph been meant to cross his path? Was she the one that would fix him, cure him of his bastard nature? Bring him back over from the dark side and rescue the heart that he'd been born with but had been buried so far beneath all the consuming evil he'd done in his life? There had to be a reason he'd stumbled into her today. Just exactly what that reason was he would have to find out.

It seems his stumbling thank you had been enough to convince the little marbled nymph to stay and he watched her with a steady cyan gaze as she shed her knapsack thing, stepping closer to him. He made no movement to push her away or force her to keep her distance, but instead allowed her to keep a closeness to him, liking that she no longer seemed afraid of him. The pain across his body was still pretty much there, though it was a dull roar compared to the searing white pain it had been when he'd first gotten hurt and before the little medic had attended to him. She curled herself nearly between his forelimbs, resting her head against her giant fluffy tail, looking very innocent and na?ve, just like the pup that she was instead of the composed medic she'd been when she'd been healing him. Had he been another man he would've insisted that she curl up against him, but that would've been pushing it way too much. He didn't understand what was going on inside of him and he was sure that she didn't either, so it was best to leave things the way that they were right now.

Demyan lifted his head slightly, shifting his body as slowly and carefully as he could until he was resting slightly on his chest, though not enough to disturb the fresh sealing that she'd pressed into his wound. You're welcome - and, Thank You. My name is Orica, by the way. And so now he knew the little nymph's name. Orica. It was an interesting name, certainly one he had never heard before, but it seemed rather fitting to the marbled girl. It sounded...right. You-You're wel-welcome Or-Ori-Orica. My na-name is Dem-Dem-Demyan. He managed to stumble over her name, making it sound rather awkward and broken across his tongue, massive crown lowering to rest against his giant paws, cyan gaze resting on Orica's own sapphire one, onyx tipped whipcord draping across his hind legs.

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