like a tattoo
08-04-2013, 10:06 PM
Burn the land and Boil the Sea; but you can't take the sky from me
"I love you, you know." Well that drew a hint of smile from the stone. Gargoyle let out an soft exhale through his big, wet nose. It was nothing they hadn't told eachother a hundred times before. And yet it never got old. Ocena could still find ways to make her words shoot straight into his heart. For the moment he had no reply. He just wanted to look at her. Then of course the next thing he knew, she was telling him he looked ridiculous. A low thundering of a chuckle warped it's way out his throat as he straightened back only to leap his form down into the sand. He padded over, ducking his head and coming around behind his mate to curl up beside her. He loved the way he could just envelope her body with his - even when she was made extra large with more lives. More lives. Their future children. It was a miracle in the making. For a minute he had a sad little pang that Frisk wouldn't be around to see this batch. It had been one of the last things he and the mink had done together - going to see Ocena's first litter. Not to long after that Frisk had started greying over - and not with a winter coat. A little bit later he'd gone out one of his forays and not returned. Not after days. Not after weeks. Gargoyle knew. He'd lost another comrade, probably one of the best ones he'd ever had. Life goes on of course. No one really wants tears over their grave.- unless they're the sort of sick puppy that likes to see their loved ones cry. No, Gargoyle would take his time to enjoy life and enjoy the memory of the little snackfood which... in reality.... was the reason he had met Ocena. The reason he'd left the mob. The reason he was who he was. Maybe he'd talk to Ocena about naming one of the pups after Frisk - not this litter, of course, they were already discussing other names. Maybe the next. And yes, he intended for there to be a next. Come hell or high water, it just didn't matter to him. The world could be ending these two love birds would still find bliss in eachother's eyes. Gargoyle let out a loving sort of rumble and nipped at the tip of his mate's ear, as he cuddled in close. He was playful and tender, but concern managed to creep into his words when he spoke. "So how are you feeling Ocena, truly?" GARGOYLE
41 inches of doberman & timber wolf been just about everything but a saint |
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