Tourniquet

N/A · 11-25-2020, 11:33 PM

Azriel contented himself to watch while Sibyl tended to Fel with experienced paws, his tune continuing in a perfect loop. For some time, the soft melody from his childhood that had not been sung in an age was the only sound between the three wolves until Sibyl proclaimed her tasks completed, lamenting about their lack of supplies. One of Azriel's dark ears flicked atop his head. That had been one of the major drawbacks to the vagabond lifestyle: total freedom, but a profound lack of stability. Every day felt like a new challenge, and some days just beat them down more than others. But nowhere had tempted Azriel's interests enough to keep him around longer than a few days. Well, until now, it seemed, as they'd spent... how long had they actually been in Boreas for? Had it been a week yet? Time seemed to matter less and less the more he spent with Sibyl and with Fel. He was a patient wolf, and waiting for something he wanted was nothing new to him. But that something had never been a someone before. That part was still fresh.

The brute's ears flicked again to catch Fel's offer to Sibyl. An invitation to Aerie, to her pack. Well, perhaps not her pack... or then again, maybe it was. He didn't know much of Fel's biography; perhaps they had been sleeping with the alpha of the enigmatic pack. Her words brought with them the promise of what they lacked: stability, consistency, and a home. They would have regularity in their lives; familiar beds to come back to every night, familiar faces of neighbors and comrades, familiar lands for well-traveled paws to traverse... But it also came at a cost. A pack meant rigidity, a strict order, and subordination. It meant they would be subjugated to the wills and whims of the leader—though if it was Fel, Azriel had no problems submitting himself to her will. It had been so very, very long since Azriel had been part of a formal pack, and the last time... He didn't bother to think of the last time. Azriel realized he had unconsciously stopped humming when Fel spoke about joining Aerie, and quickly resumed his slow, somber tune once he was aware again. There was no need to dwell on that any further. Her suggestion was enticing... oh, so enticing... but it came with a whole new set of concerns as well.

He felt Fel relax more readily against him, letting her head settle down over her leg. His paw wrapped around her began a slow, stroking motion across her side, running claws through svelte fur. This was the one time in his life Azriel had been thankful to be an insomniac. He dreaded the thought of what he might have seen tomorrow morning had he not gotten up when he did. Fel had needed this badly—and somewhere deep inside, Azriel had too. He had been lost in his own thoughts about Aerie and his soft song that he almost missed when Fel finally spoke again, and boy was he glad he did. Fel's words sent a cold icicle stabbing through his heart. That explained everything. Fel's unusual mood shifts whenever she left them, the responsibilities she had to tend to, the smoke and the fire, and the way he had found her tonight... Azriel obviously knew nothing about the deceased wolf, but it was clear that he had been someone very important to the ebon-furred fae. His paw shifted, running gently along each stroke of silver along Fel's back. His gaze drifted down to her face just in time to notice as the glistening teardrops began to fall from wine-tinted eyes.

The sudden display of unabated and unguarded emotions caught him by surprise, but what surprised him even more was how quick he was to react. Without a moment's hesitation, Azriel brought a large, tender paw up to catch some of the tears that fell down her cheeks and muzzle. He would not tell her not to weep; she was grieving and she was purging all of those building emotions. This was what she had been hiding, keeping locked away from everyone, including herself it seemed. Azriel brought his snout back down to her forehead, planting a soft kiss against her forehead, and then another, and then another, until the dark brute was leaving a random trail of kisses from her forehead to her ear that he managed to reach and over her cheek. His paw around her wound tighter around her side, keeping her held snugly against his larger, muscular frame to shelter her from the turbulent storm. It was protective and a touch possessive, the male wanting nothing more than to hide his Fel away from the world that had so cruelly laid her low. His nose pressed against her fur took in the burnt scent of the smoke, eyes closing and brow furrowing at the implications it brought with it.

"I'm sorry, Fel..." he murmured against her skin between the little kisses and nuzzles. "What was his name?" Azriel was not a wolf of sympathy, but he wanted to mourn with the fae that had scaled the walls of his defenses and taken up residence somewhere deep inside his mind and soul. He could not mourn for a nameless wolf he had never met before though.

"Speech" | Thoughts

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