If Walls Could Speak

For a long while, Aresenn said nothing. He lay there, staring unblinkingly up at the shadowy underbelly of the forest, the russet coat of his heaving chest gradually slowing its rapid rise and fall. As she angled herself toward him, the warmth of her body against his side was a sensation that stirred something within him … akin to comfort? Perhaps it was something to do with a shared vulnerable moment. But he was certain that it wasn’t something he was willing or prepared to confront. Her question hung in the air between them, a poorly veiled plea wrapped in a veneer of levity.

He found himself studying her in return, his amber eyes tracing over the sleek lines of her scarlet form as she repositioned herself, her dark eyes still alight with a lingering curiosity. He allowed himself a small grunt of amusement at her coy inquiry, the deep baritone of his voice echoing in the otherwise silent forest. "A secret?" He repeated, breaking his gaze away from the angular markings across her cheek to meet her own dark eyes. “I don’t feel the particular draw to go around advertising whatever this was, if that's what you're worried about." His eyes briefly swept down to the scratches marking his chest- damn, some of them were deep. But he casually returned back to her gaze, in the event she wanted to lay down ground rules.

"Aresenn Praetor"