Cover up the poison with poetry

Azure · 09-29-2020, 02:15 PM

She appeared to remain somewhat unsure even through his assurances, and Azure was finding himself wishing the keepers would knock on their door that moment so it could be over and done with for good. Would she not believe him in that she was free until she saw their bodies for herself? Perhaps the truth was something he should one day consider. The day her Keepers turned up at the border they would have both Sirius and himself at each other's throats for the right to dispatch them though Az had never intended on letting Hanako in on their deaths when inevitably they did happen. Would it be the only way for her to truly see? Well it was that or to purchase her as she expected him to, but the idea of standing face to face with these wolves and not tearing their eyes from their sockets was laughable. Eliminating the slavers was one of the few events Azure truly looked forward to, after all. Maybe more then his future ascension.

Her quieted response promptly derailed his train of thought and he felt a grin tug at his lips as she insisted he have more fun and to be happy. "Hmm, sorry, I don't know what fun is." He responded playfully. Hanako would never be allowed to see him 'having fun', not while his only concept of enjoyment remained in bloodying things. Had he even tried other 'fun' things? Az didn't think so, but then again hobbies were something you enjoyed with friends and of those he had few.

When she bared her teeth at him he felt like his heart might stop, and his jaws parted to release a low breath. Even pretending to be fierce, Hana was truly beautiful. Az realized with a terrifying start that he wanted to kiss her, and was forced to tear his gaze off of her lips. "I- I-it's late, we should both get some rest." Az was speaking without thinking now, and he found himself wondering if she'd invite him to stay with her for the remainder of the evening. After all he had built the den with his - and Mortis' - sizes in mind. Nope, painful train of thought. Need to focus. Whatever had started happening to his body as he aged was most definitely not consensual, and he tipped his head up to stare at the flaws in the ceiling of her den. In more then a few places the dirt was imperfectly smoothed, his claws having left furrows in the hardened dirt. He focused on the markings as hard as he could but still an unfamiliar heat was beginning to flood to his cheeks and he gritted his teeth, trying desperately to call back instead the mental image of his future slaughter of asshole slave masters.

"Speech"
"Thinking"
"You."

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