It's Where My Demons Hide
03-18-2014, 04:37 PM
An odd sensation would jolt the man awake from his slumber, his massive frame squirming as he stumbled to his paws. He assumed a bad dream had woken him, and he would shake his hazy mind as he peered toward the entrance of his new den. It still felt odd to be here instead of in Seracia, and he couldn't deny that he missed his old home- but he knew he was serving a purpose here, and that was to tend to Chrysanthe until she was well again. He would contemplate rolling back onto his side, but something about this night lured him into the open and out of Valhalla's territory. Nostrils would quiver as he came across Twig's faint perfume, and curiously he would begin to follow it. Where had she gone in the middle of the night while heavily pregnant? He would question her intentions while continuing his pursuit, his brow furrowing as he reached a sandy beach laced with obsidian sand that seemed to glow among the moonlight. He would squint his eyes so that his vision could adjust, and the faint figure of a wolf would ensnare his attention. His tail would begin to wiggle back and forth, his lips creasing as he barked to her, alerting her of his presence. He would stride forward and upon reaching her he would lower himself so that he could lay beside her. His head would swing toward her, a warm smile placed across his features- only it would fade as soft sobs reached his audits, morphing into a concerned frown as his warm gaze fell upon her orchid stare. "Twig, why are you crying?" He would softly inquire as he attempted to nudge her gently, an attempt at comforting her. Why was she upset and alone? Speech, |