This Pain is My Doing
Indigo
05-28-2021, 06:00 PM
It was easier to relax when Indigo was conscious and talking. Conscious and talking meant he was still squarely in the land of the living, despite the obvious pain and discomfort he felt. But given how her life had been, Em would take any small victories where she could get them. Indigo was alive. That would be enough for now. Even as they sat close together, Emersyn’s walls were still up. Her guilt had compelled her to stay and guard the healing dire wolf, but she still knew nothing of him, of the wolves in this castle, of this strange place. She felt very much like a fish out of water, like a shadow on a wall that didn’t quite belong. As soon as she could, she’d be out of their hair for good. She’d caused him enough trouble.
She could see the darkness swirling in those sapphire eyes, a look she had seen before in the eyes of fresh gladiators. He was struggling with the reality that he had taken a life. Even if it had been justified and even admirable, it was a traumatic experience to the male. He admitted to her that he didn’t like being alone, avoiding eye contact as the words slipped past his lips. Emersyn nodded her head slowly; if he didn’t want to be alone, then he wouldn’t be. The dusty violet fae tensed with anxiousness, reaching a slow, trepidatious paw up until she felt the fur on his crown, gently petting Indigo between his ears and running delicate claws through the thick mane of his scruff. She didn’t know if this was comforting or not, but he had seemed to like it when she’d done this down on the riverbank.
“You won’t be alone then,” she replied, her gaze lifting from him to the door and wondering where the rest of his posse was. “You’ve had your… ‘friends’ hanging around you since we brought you back. They’ve barely left your side, especially this one little fae that was all but throwing herself over you while you slept.” She didn’t know any of their names yet, so she couldn’t say who, nor did she exactly care to know. Hopefully he could tell. They were all far too preoccupied with Indigo, and she wouldn’t be overstaying her welcome anyway.
A wry smirk pulled at her lips and she commented, “You definitely have a type, I noticed…” Smaller. Purple. Damaged. Had he just protected her because he wanted her to be part of his collection? She didn’t know what sort of arrangement they all had, but the pattern was obvious to anyone with eyes. What were Indigo’s intentions with protecting her and helping her? Every wolf had an angle, an ulterior motive. She just had to figure out what that was…