What I Want
Sibyl - Fall Seasonal
12-16-2020, 12:15 AM
Azriel was still watching the leaves floating by on the breeze when he heard soft footsteps rustling grass coming closer. He didn't turn his head when Sibyl approached him, acknowledging her presence by leaning his body back against hers when she pressed her smaller form into his side. He turned his head towards her, gaze lowering until steel grey eyes met pale lavender from her. The expression on her face was unreadable, with a spark of mirth in her eyes. When she spoke, Azriel's ears perked and a wry smirk twisted his lips upward. Those words brought a flashback of memories, back to the summer night just over a year ago when they had met. The brute uttered a low chuckle, tickled by her comment, and wound a larger paw around her slender form, hugging her close while moving to plant a kiss on top of her forehead. While neither of them were in love, Azriel felt very protective and possessive of his precious Sibyl. She had become such a grounding force in his life that he couldn't imagine existing without her. What had begun as a symbiotic relationship between the two had long-since become his norm. When they had come to Boreas, Fel had disrupted that norm—but now, her absence was beginning to leave him with the same conflicted emotions Sibyl's did.
"Let's go for a walk," said Azriel after a beat of silence. "We have a lot to think about." Rising up to his full height, Azriel gave a shake of his coat before setting off down the banks of the Rio Grande, his pace leisurely and graceful, each measured step precise and calculated. Everything in his life had always been so meticulous, so deliberate, so premeditated. It was the only way he knew. In a world of chaos, the only order that existed was the order you created. Azriel was a master of his own destiny. But what was his destiny? Was it this life of a vagabond, roaming from land to land in pursuit of a meal and warm bed with the occasional shiny reward? Or did he have some greater part to play in this tapestry being woven in Boreas? What would become of them if they chose to break ties and run free now? What would happen if they chose to stay and submit to pack rule? Would they even be accepted in? Would they want to subject themselves to whatever had broken Fel so viciously?
For a long while, Azriel contented himself to walk in quiet beside the river, watching the changing leaves sway in the breeze around them and the squirrels across the water scramble about collecting nuts for the coming winter. "Hard to believe it's been almost two months since we arrived here," he commented with another chuckle. "Seems like yesterday we were still on the run, hoping that band didn't figure out we'd killed the alpha's brother." Time really was a funny thing to think about. Between the lying low, the fun times spent with their new ménage à trois, and simply trying to stay alive, the hours had formed into days, and days melted into weeks. Now winter was almost upon them, and they both had a decision to make. Of course, Azriel was attempting to put it off. He didn't want to dwell on those thoughts. He had spent more of his life as a lone wanderer than as part of a pack, and the last time he was in one had ended less than ideally. That was a story he did not like to tell. He had stowed that part of his life away, keeping a clue hidden in plain sight that none had ever been keen enough to pry into enough to discover, not even Sibyl. She knew nothing of his past beyond what he allowed her to know.
"I've been thinking a lot about our time together lately... Reflecting back on where we were to where we are now... How we got here... Where we're going... Everything in between..." he spoke after a moment, turning his silvery eyes back to his partner. There was a lot of in between with the two of them, most of it pleasant and pleasurable—some more painful and regrettable. A lot had happened in the course of a year. A lot still stood to happen in the near future. "What's on your mind, Sib?"
WC: 1748/1500 ✓
"Speech" | Thoughts