Chill of the dark

The Warlord was lost deep in his dreams. Chasing rabbits through the Tall Grasses of his birth territory. He remembered the horrible hunger of his youth, the endless Growthspurts that had led him to the size he was now. He felt Hazel move around him, and the chill of her nose was enough to pull him partly from his sleep. 


He wrapped a paw around her, Burying her head slightly in the thick fur around his neck to chase out her chill. He breathed in deeply, content to fall back to his dreams when the scent slowly penetrated through his consciousness. It was the dusty desert and woodsmoke. None of the familiar events of his mate. He cracked open an eye and found the browner tones of his slave beneath him. He blinked a few more times, waiting for it to make sense. “Little slave?” He asked after a long moment.