Send Me a Postcard
Skills
09-08-2020, 04:40 AM
He stood over her, breathing heavily, and she seemed as relaxed as though she had taken a pleasant stroll through a garden. Despite the blood in her maw, and the droplets he had splattered on her in his hast. He quickly dipped his head away before he could mar her creamy fur any further. What kind of wolves were these Armada people raising? “You’re okay. You’re okay.” he said, more to himself than her. Dammit, didn’t she realise how priceless she was? It would rip him asunder to lose her. He glanced at his own wounds, and grimaced soundlessly. “It’s just a flesh wound.” he assured her, licking his chops clean, and sticking his nose back into her coat, checking her over for wounds. More to calm himself then her, he began to idly rub his paw down one of hers, searching for knots in her muscles, and loosening any tightness he could find. "Speech" |