all the love that poor boy could giver her

The young blonde wolf had bested her. He'd seemed much sturdier than the average wolf and her attempts at toppling him had failed. In the end, he had fallen atop her, both knocking the air from the scarred fae and wrenching her shoulder in the process. She was proud of him for besting her and though her pride was a little wounded, Asla didn't let it show.

Indigo came to her aid, helping her to her paws before leading her away. Having been crushed beneath a blonde boulder, she hadn't seen her brother's match, but assumed that he'd won. Both warriors seemed a little stiff and when they arrived at their destination, Indy asked if she'd help him with his armor. Of course she obliged and began loosening the buckles and straps until the hulking, purple brute could slip free.

Once Indigo was free of his armor, Asla collapsed onto her side with a huff, her sore shoulder pointed towards the heavens. "I'm getting too old for this," she joked. They weren't that old, though sometimes it felt like it. With one paw, she beckoned the big man towards her, wanting nothing more than to curl up against him and sleep off her soreness.

"Indigo" & "Aslatiel"