In the Dead of Night
08-20-2013, 09:15 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-20-2013, 09:16 PM by Azalea.)
Night had fallen over Valhalla and Azalea had woken from her sleep in the tangled roots of an ancient tree. Her eyes were heavy, she was tired. Lack of sleep was just one of the many things she had been suffering since returning from the north. There was a hollow feeling inside of her tonight, her dreams heavy with one wolf in particular. She needed him, needed to be near him and to touch him. Azalea was, for one of the very few times in her life, lonely. She left her makeshift bed, tracking across Valhalla with her nose to the ground. Of course she knew where Sarak's den was. So many things were happening in the young girls life and the discovery of all these new emotions did not technically sit well with her. She enjoyed playing with the emotions but more often than not they were her enemy, fighting against her to make her act in ways she didn't want to. They made her weak. It was her weakness that had her outside of Sarak's den in the middle of the night, under a full moon, calling out his name into the darkness. "Sarak?" Her tones were so faint, she wondered if he would hear her at all. Weak as she might be to succumb to her need for male companionship, Azalea's whole body and mind would not allow her to believe that this was wrong. She wanted him company in equal parts to need. The female shifted her weight back and forth, uncertain as she waited for signs of life from within the den. Speech, |
