He hadn't realized how much his body was holding itself together like a coiled spring under a mountain. His shoulder and paws had ached after so long walking and hunting and traipsing over saints knows where and what. He sank deeper into the water, just enough to keep his nose clear as he watched her scrub her fur clean. His eyelids drooped heavily as the water loosened his tender muscles. He hadn't realized that perhaps that underlying pain had made him more irritable of late.
He lifted his frame and began scrubbing the dirt and grime off himself. It had been so long that he wondered how the spring remained so clear as the mud and soil of their travels clouded the waters briefly.
The last time he had a bath... Hmmm... the vision through his dark lashes obscured his view and it was almost as if the judilan prince of snow and smoke was here with him again. The memory sparked his drive to find his Angel. All would be right again once he was found, once they were reunited. Abbadon, his Angel of Destruction. An ocean blue orb caught his firey gaze, he held her eyes, one clouded from blindness... If you mixed them together then perhaps the storm blues of Abaddon could be seen. He looked away from her, intent to chase away any thoughts of hopeless melancholy in missing his Abaddon. He misses him so that he can find him. He missed him more than those blasted bronze nail caps his father stripped from him. How he loved to run them through his pale grey fur.
