Mine.

Still wounded by the traitorous ways of his once-son, the pallid angel had been pacing in thought; watching closely as Satis and Impra made their ways about the pack, unwilling to lose the duo also to such things, unprepared to fall blind to their plans as he had his elder son. Satis he wasn?t worried of, the strange marked girl had sworn her loyalty- hell, so had Taurig. His skin would shudder with rage, jaws clenching as hatred seethed his pores. Valhalla was no longer the pack?s only enemy. He would rip the blue?s ranks apart in an effort to prove his point; there is no safety outside of Glaciem Service, outside of loyalty. No less could be expected.

He would approach Sendoa with a stiffness that was uncommon within the angel, his elegance stained by the obvious pain that would shudder his bones. Give it a day and he?d be past it, raw fury replaced by dedication, but for now it would be all that haunted his mind. He would crawl to her direct contact, to lower his skull and butt pale crown firmly into her dark chest, to lower his haunches to the earth as his would attempt to draw his cranium up to the crest of her gullet. ?My adore,? he would greet her, tenderly.