paralyzing comfort

*Nibelheim* · 10-14-2013, 05:09 PM

Despite his former concession that converting Cashmere would necessitate a measure of patience he was not overly accustomed to exercising for any great need, Nibelheim still found himself batting away the incessant heat of indignation. Every time she would stiff the gnarled thought would expand until it was a cancerous mass in his mind, a pus-spewing boil waiting to erupt and make for an unattractive sight. He had the forcibly distract himself from the rigidity of his female?s countenance and fixate on what achievements he?d managed in this short span of time. It was much easier to revel in what he had accomplished versus the milestones yet to be crossed.

Cashmere had not fled at the sight of him, a perfect beginning as far as he was concerned, and while it had taken time he had even encouraged her to eat the meager offering he had. Better was that she had spoken with increasing frequency, still so vulnerable and shy but willing to be cordial despite her experiences. These were good signs had there ever been one, symptoms of allegiance being fostered. He would cultivate those emotions in her until they bloomed in his name, until she thought of little else but her service to him. She would be beautiful in a way that trumped the conventional sensuality because she would be a different creature entirely when he was through.

Nibelheim did not bother to smother his grin, masking it though with each pull at her fur as his teeth combed the knotted strands until they were slick and well kempt. The expression only grew as he felt her weight leaning into him, silently asking for warmth and dissolving from her weary state of stress and pain as she began to speak.

His listened attentively and with his undivided attention as she relayed a small kernel of her life, letting him past the threshold of her isolated little world. The brute answered her sadness with what he knew she craved, a comforting touch, a pillar of strength against the tempest that roared around her, offering the stability she needed to keep from being ripped apart by the worlds many cruelties. ?I am sorry to hear zat, Cazmere.? Nibelheim breathed deeply as his tongue raced over her crown, persuading her back to that previous state of peace. ?Are these,? he gently let his nose run over one of her many healing wounds. ?from those who discard you??

Speech,

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