Weaving Tales

With his story told, the man felt...empty. He had been a monster. A devil. A demon. Now he was just a wolf. Just a man. Just a man being comforted by a beautiful woman. As Poem held him close and began singing the very song that he'd taught her, something in the brute broke. He felt vulnerable. Exposed. Thick forelegs wrapped tightly around Poem and he held her close. "My Po-em," he murmured into the side of her neck as he held her in his embrace. That was the first time that he'd calmed her his. The first time that he claimed her aloud.

A moment later a paw gently turned his face to her. Poem bestowed upon him the sweetest kiss. Sparhawk didn't loosen the embrace. He returned the kiss eagerly but was careful to be sweet about it. "Miss Po-em..." the man spoke softly, his lips against her own. "I think... if we keep down this road, I could very much be loving you." He already knew that he loved her, but he didn't want to scare her off. Even to him it seemed too soon, but he knew. He just knew.

Pulling back slightly, one wide paw moved up to cup her cheek. "You are so very beautiful, Po-em. And kind. And lovely." He gave her little kisses in between each component. "Smart, a wonderful singer, caring, gentle." Red eyes stared lovingly into her own. "You bring a man to his knees." She should see what was within those claret orbs. He willed his love to spill from them.