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*Fel* · 11-25-2020, 04:58 AM

Azriel continued to pay special attention to her and Fel soaked it up like a sponge. She was thirsty for attention and hungry for affection. The shadowed man was providing her with much needed sustenance. Each nuzzle, each caress, each carefully distributed gesture and touch... she consumed it all and she consumed it greedily. At the moment, whatever he wanted he would have given him as long as he didn't stop giving in return.

Then Sibyl was there and the fire that burned within the shadowed woman was tamped down. Not to say that the pale lady made her any less lusty, but it was a different type of lust. Sibyl was a 'lunch in the meadow with some sweet love making' type of lust, whereas Azriel was a 'fight me then fuck me' type of lust. Fel needed both of them equally.

The ashen fae worked on the wound in her arm and apologized for not having anything for the pain. Fel exhaled lightly in amusement. "Pain is nothing." The wound didn't even hurt that bad and the salve that Sibyl had spread upon it was helping the dull throb that remained. When Sibyl spoke of not having a chance to accumulate herbs due to their moving, Fel said the first thing on her mind. "Then join Aerie. Have a place to come home to where you can store all the herbs your heart desires." She wanted to tell the woman to do it for her, but she couldn't. Fel knew that Eli wouldn't easily accept outsiders. Probably even less so if they were affiliated with her.

A gentle, almost loving lick was bestowed upon her forehead by the big man and Fel sighed. Once Sibyl was curled up on the other side of her, the midnight fae lifted one arm to wrap around her, pulling the white and grey woman close. It was fitting, for Azriel did the very same to her. Fel nestled against him and she kept Sibyl nestled against her. In this way, Azriel's paw should have been touching the pale beauty as well. All three of them. All together.

Fel was surprised when Azriel began to hum. Pressed against his barrel chest as she was, the lithe woman could feel each reverberation that thrummed through the man. It was incredibly comforting. Bloodmoon eyes drifted closed as she lay her head down upon the oustretched, injured foreleg, though she was careful not to touch the wound. With comfort on either side, Fel finally spoke. Her tones were soft, barely above a whisper, but she spoke. "My brother is dead." Aside from when she'd summoned Thalia to the funeral, this was the first time that she'd said it aloud. Her mental barriers were thin and all of this kindness made them thinner still. Before she knew it, the tears were spilling over. She didn't wail. She didn't sob. She simply couldn't stop her eyes from seeping tears that should have been shed days ago.

"Speech"

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