Breakfast in Bed

N/A · 11-13-2020, 12:37 AM

To say Boreas had been an interesting place to explore would have been a gross understatement. In the few days that had passed since their arrival, Azriel had dedicated all of his time and energy to finding as much information as he could about their new temporary home. He had done some scouting in the nearby provinces, exploring wherever he did not smell a large collective of wolves. Packs were something he was keen to avoid for the time being. Thanks to a particularly chatty fox he'd met across the river, he had a decent grasp on the nearby areas enough that, once three days had passed, he felt comfortable finally permitting himself to relax. It had been close to a week since he and Sibyl had fled for their lives; if they hadn't been tracked down by now, there was little chance they'd be found now. For all intents and purposes, they had gotten away with murder.

Yet despite all his research and digging, one mystery continued to elude him. The mystery that was a beguiling work of art swathed in fur as dark as fresh obsidian, gilded with sterling silver. Fel Abraxas. That name had hung on his lips for three days, yet no matter who he spoke to, he received nothing but more mysteries. All he had been able to learn was that the Abraxas family had founded the Aerie pack, but even that gave him little to nothing. He could have discerned she belonged to a pack by simple deduction. It only confounded him further and left Azriel ravenous for more. Now, without the concern of a hunting party coming to knock on their door, he had all his time and energy to dedicate to reviewing their meeting in his head, watching their encounter over and over like a tape rewinding. Her deep red eyes were burned into his memory, the flash of white from her perfectly maintained teeth, her graceful movements like a sash of velvet rippling in the air, the purr of her voice as she spoke. But more enticingly was that wickedly sharp mind she kept hidden away, displaying against his with every word and every gesture. Fel Abraxas. That wolf had poisoned his mind and corrupted his every thought.

Despite his fascination with the ebony fae, he found it more disappointing than he'd care to admit that she hadn't been seen since their first meeting several days ago. On their first night, Azriel assumed she was setting an ambush for them, especially given how hidden and secluded the den she'd invited them to was. She hadn't been lying when she said it was cozy, plenty big for himself and Sibyl, and certainly able to comfortably house three if the occasion called for it. But its secrecy came at the price of having a single entrance and exit, a terrific chokepoint to any would-be attackers. When the first day passed without event, Azriel then thought she was turning them in to some greater force, and a posse of vigilantes would be coming at any moment. When day two passed, and then day three, the monochrome brute began to wonder if perhaps she had just been a brief memory. Perhaps that was all Fel Abraxas was ever meant to be: a beautiful ghost passing through the world. He never gave voice to how disappointed he was that he might never get the chance to unlock any of her secrets or match wits with her again.

Then came today. Another gorgeous, slow, mundane day. With their freedom all but secured, Azriel had been trying to plan out what their next move should be. Should he and Sibyl stay a while longer in Boreas and see what the lands had to offer? Well, actually, that was exactly what they were doing, since Sibyl made a grand spectacle of stubbornly insisting they stay here until the Abraxas beauty returned. Fighting her on that would have been a losing battle. So they waited, and as Sibyl sunbathed above their den, Azriel sat on the banks of the river a short ways away, watching the water go by and thinking. He was lost in the memory loop he had been for the last few days, his only way to see Fel again, to study and pick her apart, when he heard Sibyl speak. Black ears flicked back to catch her voice, followed by a turn of his head as he glanced back to see a familiar silver-streaked shadow approaching them. She had actually come after all!

Gradually rising to his full height, Azriel got back to his paws and made his way toward the two faes, taking a moment to marvel at the stark contrast between them. Sibyl was so light and delicate. Fel was dark and sensual. This had all the opportunities of being quite an interesting day. "Ah, she returns at last. And here I was afraid you'd only been a daydream. Hello again, Fel," Azriel called out to Fel as he came closer to the duo, the corner of his mouth twisting upward in a crooked smirk. "Poor Sibyl here has been lamenting over not getting to see you. Seems you left quite the impression."

"Speech" — Thoughts

Login
Username:
Password:	Lost Password?
	Remember me