Lost little lamb

Once her newly made charm was secure, he lightly tapped it so it would swish and sing so she could be certain it was set up the way she wanted it to. He landed lightly back on all four, and turned his head to Ignita, wondering what the fallout would be of causing her to fall. At least his way it had been careful, and controlled. But perhaps that was just a highlight of who he was. Controlling bastard.

He stepped back to Ignita, whose worried stammering and cautious gaze told him of her mind space. “Hey, it’s okay. Just don’t go thinking you're disposable, alright? Your safety comes first.” He told her, kissing the top of her head. “How about a mug of whatever you stuck in that kettle, and you tell me about your day?”


"Basilisk Fatalis"