My Lady Valhalla
04-13-2014, 07:15 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-13-2014, 07:20 PM by Crucifix.)
The heart of the brute was heavy within his chest, and within it sparked his anger, his fury for the fate that befallen Twig. A part of that hate included himself, for not being there to prevent it in the first place, but the majority of that emotion burned for the one who had wronged her and it demanded blood in reconcile. They would move apart now and it felt hard to let her go even that little step. He had never felt so protective of her before, having in the past been so clearly the younger of the two. But that strong wolf he had modelled himself against was so different to how he had left her. She looked so small and fragile beside him now, skinny and tired for all the world had thrown at her. This new, wildly strong feeling of a need to protect her would be hard to tame, but he knew he could never push to hard for she would always be her own wolf. He just needed to add a little bit of muscle to her life, not a voice of command. She had fully pulled away and her paws had begun to move her onwards. He was quick to respond, taking up a pace beside her and feeling oddly like a guard at her side. This was his sister, his Twig, and hell hath no fury like a brother with a sister wronged. She spoke of her Alpha and her ideas of justice, that she might need some convincing. If she believes in justice I don't see how she would need convincing he thought, filling away the Alpha's name for the moment. After all, he could not see what else could be called 'justice' he had hurt his sister, badly, perhaps almost destroyed her life. Asking for his blood was small beside's that. But he did not know the Alpha, and his sister did. ?I will find a way? he soothed gently to her as they walked, flicking his tail against her side. He knew it the moment they reached the border, and the scent of Valhalla would reach his nostrils. He tried not to wrinkle his nose at the onslaught of aroma, the strong small of many wolves mingling into one. As they stopped at a general sort of point on the outskirts of the border he would raise his head and bellow out a call in strong tones, asking for the one who ruled these lands. "My sounds""My Soul" |
