Novacaine

Caedes stood at the entrance of Mariah’s den, the dawn's light hitting his obsidian form and revealing splashes of dried blood caked into his fur. He numbly thought of taking a plunge into the ocean, maybe the cold water would bring him back to his senses, and wash away all else. But then he heard her soft call, his name on her tongue that tugged at his heart, pulling him forward. He hesitated for a moment, the scent of death and ash still clinging to him, a pungent reminder of what he had endured. But her invitation was a lifeline, a beacon in the storm.

He moved silently to her side, the warmth of her den an immense comfort to his tortured soul. As he lay down, he nuzzled into her, his large form curling into her warmth like a child seeking solace. He tried to hide the tremble in his limbs, but the scent of the horrors he had faced? He could only hope she would not notice. Not yet.

Her presence was a haven, a refuge. He closed his eyes, the softness of her fur and the steady rhythm of her breathing grounding him in the present. For a moment, he allowed himself to believe that he could find peace here, in her arms. Emeralds shut tightly, the massive brute clung to her, the weight of his grief and pain pressing heavily upon him, but here, with her, he found a sliver of comfort. Even if only for a little while.