Let's Catch Up

*Demonio* · 06-05-2013, 01:03 PM

It would be a shame if he'd traveled all the way to Valhalla only to discover that Chrysanthe wasn't home. Even with his wife now, he still wanted to spend time with the clay-faced youth. She had been one of his first friends in Alacritis and he was determined to maintain their friendship. It didn't matter that she hailed from a pack that didn't necessarily liked his own, that was of little importance. She wasn't a valhallan wolf and he not a tortugan one. They were two wolves, two friends. What packs they came from didn't need to the defining factor of their friendship. Demonio liked and respected Chrysanthe and he would always maintain his friendship with her, even if one day their packs ended up going to war. Which he sure wouldn't happen now that his wife had taken the throne.

Just when he was beginning to think that maybe Chrys wasn't home, her all too familiar voice rang up from within Valhalla, answering his call. The knight rose to his paws, ivory plume wagging happily. His friend was here. Icy and maroon gems scanned the border before him, searching for the tell tale cream figure that belonged to the young girl. Or young woman he should say as Chrysanthe came trotting into her view, her visage reflecting same joy he was feeling at having some time with a friend. She had grown a lot since their last encounter. The awkwardness of youth no longer defined her figure, but instead he could see the feminine curves that filled out her cream body. She was a young woman now. A very beautiful young woman in fact. To his eyes, she seemed to be growing up quite fine and he was sure that at some point or another she would come to a position of power within her pack. How could she not?

Her voice reached his ears as she greeted him, asking him where he'd been. A playful smile curled his jaws. Oh you know, here and there, everywhere. He chuckled good-naturedly as he joked with Chrysanthe. It felt good to talk to her again. I've actually been home. A lot of things are changing in Tortuga, if you haven't caught wind of it already. As he stood before the young woman, there appeared to be something different about her. It wasn't blatantly obvious. There weren't any missing limbs or visible scars to be seen. The difference about her wasn't physical. It was something else. He could sense a shift in her, in the way she carried herself. He remembered their last encounter and she had held herself as if she held a high rank. She did the same now, but it was more pronounced now. How much had he missed?

It has been nearly three seasons - so much has changed. How are you? Her voice broke his thoughts, returning his attention to the present. I can believe it has. I have been more than good. Amazing really. What of yourself? I can see you've grown since I last saw you. Still as beautiful as always I may add. He wished to cross the border and embrace his friend, but since she hadn't invited him in yet and he wasn't sure exactly where she stood as far rank, so he restrained himself, patiently standing at the border. He was content with staying right here if they so wished. He was in no hurry to get anywhere.

Talk like this

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