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N/A · 11-21-2020, 04:44 PM

If she hadn't looked so beaten down and broken inside, Azriel would have thought the silent, moody Fel was downright adorable. From her wordless sounds of protest to the way she hid herself from the cold world in his fur, simply having her here again felt like a small joy. But any joy her presence would have had was overshadowed by his concern for the mute fae. It seemed as if every time he saw Fel, she had deteriorated more and more, imploding in on herself. The reasons still eluded the monochromatic male, but he felt like he was slowly working his way closer to an answer. The only question that lingered with him though was would he want to know that answer?

The soft gasp that slipped from her did not go unnoticed, charcoal ears flicking back to catch the sound and grey eyes watching her toes flex and spread while her leg turned toward his tongue. Were this a couple of days ago, Azriel would have reveled in the chance to draw those sounds from Fel, savored the opportunity to make her toes curl, but this time felt different. Caught somewhere between the night and the dawn, Azriel just felt concern and sorrow for the ebony fae, rare emotions in the otherwise ruthless wolf. Empathy was not something he was good at. Kindness was not something he was good at. Fel was proving to be an exception to his rule—or perhaps she had just made her way into his circle, becoming one of only two wolves he genuinely cared for besides himself. Whatever the reason, Azriel felt compelled to clean her up, to keep her warm, to shelter her from the harsh world that seemed to be eating her alive from the inside.

Soft tongue continued its gentle care over the wound, swiping away dried and fresh blood that stained her dark leg. The taste of iron and salt lingered on his tongue, a flavor he was familiar with, yet held a far different and less pleasant connotation in its current context. The wound he noticed was surgically done, with no tears or jagged edges. Something incredibly fine and sharp had done this; this was no bite or fighting wound. The longer his muzzle lingered near her, the more Azriel began to notice. Her fur still smelled of the same smoke he had smelled earlier in the night. She had been there, at whatever had happened, and emerged worse for wear, physically, emotionally, mentally. This seemed less and less like a bonfire the more he thought about it. But she had made it clear she didn't want to talk about it; he respected that, and if comfort was what she came looking for, he could try his damnedest to be what she needed in this moment. Azriel moved his paw towards hers, motions slow and methodical, to gently rest over hers. If she continued to show no sign of resistance, he would lift and rotate her delicate paw as if he were handling the most precious artifact in the world, making sure he could reach every bloodstained strand of fur without hurting her.

"You don't have to be alone, Fel," he murmured against her skin, breath hot as it left him in opaque clouds against her flesh. "You don't have to face everything on your own or do anything you don't want to do." Retracting a bit to examine the cut a little more closely to see if the bleeding had ebbed away, Azriel placed one more tender lick across the wound, then turned his head just enough for one grey eye, tinted with flecks of silver in the fading moonlight, to meet her ruby one. For once, his expression seemed to soften as he considered the dark woman pressed up to him, a rueful look in his gaze as the walls fell away entirely. Fel was hurting, she was drowning, and he had no way to help her. "For what it's worth..." he began, shifting a little closer to make sure all of her was surrounded by him, leaving little exposed to the world or the wolf that had done this to her, "I'm very sorry..." He didn't know exactly what he was sorry for yet, but he had an inkling. There were too many clues to ignore, and even if she didn't ever want to talk about it, she wasn't alone. She would never be alone again. Azriel would make sure of that.

"Speech" | Thoughts

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