Tension. Stillness. Quiet. It fills the space between them, and Dread can feel it driving his hackles up too. Eerie, as they move through the cavernous room. Stale air and dust around their heads, he doesn't even cough against it. He can't, not right now. He can't shatter the silence like that, so instead the man tries to squelch it in his throat. Swallowing hard, the same way he's swallowing back his feelings. Shoulders hunched against the creepy breeze, looking anywhere other than at Deluge until she makes herself the center of attention.
Fuck. Finally sauntering to look at her, to meet her in the center of the room. Everything else around them still and quiet, Dread reached out and took the bottle with a grumble. Taking a deep, violent sip from the bottle and then another. Fuck it, one more. It was dry, slipping down his throat and fueling the fire in his stomach. Dread aches, and it's his own damn fault. As he steps back to Deluge's side to set the bottle back down, he shifts the breeze. Still able to smell him on her, the boy can't stifle the growl that kicks up in his throat. More menacing than he'd admit, a dark mood settling thickly over him.
All manner of treasure, marvelous things spread out all around the cathedral. She is the finest among them-- she's not property, and yet she's his. She was supposed to be his. No. No. He's not his older brothers, he wouldn't treat her the way they treated their wives... and yet here Dread was, looking at her like she was his. Knowing that he only has himself to blame, but fuck, what was that knowledge going to do for him?
Bard
