Tourniquet
12-22-2020, 09:06 PM
Azriel had already made his mind up that Fel was staying with them, at least for some time to distance herself from her home. She was having a hard enough time with her home life it seemed, now only to be left alone with haunting memories that lingered of her deceased brother. It was hard being the survivor, especially when everything in your home reminded you of the dearly departed. Time and space was the medicine Fel needed most right now. So despite her sardonic words of protest, Azriel was not relenting. She was staying, period. End of discussion. Finally, after some more tender shows of affection from Sibyl, Fel admitted her fatigue. That much was obvious. The poor femme looked like she hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in months. The striped man nodded his head slowly, then fixed Sibyl with a look as he took charge of the situation. He was expected to be the one with the plans and answers. There were no plans or answers for a situation like this; he just had to roll with the punches and do the best he could with Fel.
"Come on, Sib, help me get Fel to bed. We could all use some sleep," said Azriel, carefully extricating himself from their cuddle pile to rise to his paws. He would go to gently nudge and urge her up, offering his side for her to lean on if she wanted it. He wanted to give her the chance to move on her own—Fel was a big girl, after all—but if she didn't comply with his insistent nudging, he had no problems hoisting the slender fae up over his back and carrying her off to bed. While far less sexy and romantic than that notion would first appear to be, Azriel was focused on tending to Fel's needs first and foremost. He turned his attention back down to Fel, the empathetic sadness still in his grey eyes, but a teasing smirk touching his lips as he asked, "Are you going to come join us willingly, or am I going to have to carry you to bed?"
"Speech" | Thoughts