Cry Me A River

The day continued to stretch on without him and he was more than glad to let it go on. It wasn't like anyone needed him anyway. Chrysanthe was busy with her alpha affairs and her own personal life. He couldn't take her precious time away from her. Besides, she could come see him when she had time; there was no need to around sniveling for her attention. He was a grown man and more than capable of handling himself. He'd dealt with pain before, with loss, so this was nothing strange to the ivory man. But just because he'd dealt with it before didn't mean that it would hurt any less. He'd been a blind fool, falling for the sweet promises the fell from Desdemona's lips only to involve himself so deeply with her to result being abandoned in the end. He would never understand why the woman that had claimed to love him, his very wife had done such a thing to him. There were just some things that were never meant to be understood and perhaps this was one of them.


He was rather surprised when the sudden sound of pawsteps was practically a foot away from him, the quiet voice of a female, the pitch telling him so, called out to him, asking him if she could join him. Pale lids slowly peeled back, revealing his icy and maroon eyes, both emotionless and practically unreadable, audits rotating forward with attention as he lifted his head to get a better look at her. I don't see why not. He motioned with his muzzle to a spot beside him, allow his ivory crown to fall back onto his paws, lids falling back over his mismatched eyes, ears resting gently against his head. He didn't care if the woman accompanied him in his self-imposed solitary confinement. It didn't bother him at all.




Talk like this