I'm Not Gonna Write You a Love Song

*Cherokee* · (This post was last modified: 06-05-2013, 07:04 PM by Cherokee.)

He never would've thought that he would ever be curled up in a makeshift den with a beautiful woman. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever envisioned something like this. The night had gone on quietly, the pair curled up with each other. It was the first time in a long while that Cherokee had actually been able to enjoy sleeping and really get a good nights rest. This particular night hadn't been like any of the others. Before the day with Song, the obsidian man hadn't really slept much. He had hardly done anything during the day that would merit an actual night of rest. Most of the time when he bedded down it was only for a few hours before he up and wandering again. But last night he'd slept through the entire night, his head contently resting against the ivory dove's paws. Sleep had been a blissful thing that night.

He was content in his land of dreams, the date with Song forgotten for the time being. And then he could feel a rumble at his stomach accompanied by a nuzzle to his neck. Pulling himself away from the dream land, Cherokee stirred slowly. His dual-toned occulars cracked open, blinking slowly as he began to regain his senses. The first thing to register in his sleep-hazed mind was that Song was awake. Her own two-toned gems were watching him as she bid him goodmorning. A sleepy smile curled his jaws before a yawn overtook him, a high pitched whine slipping through before he shook it off, fully awake now. Goodmorning miss Song. Did you sleep well? As he pulled his crown from her paws, another thought registered with him. The rumble. It hadn?t been his stomach, so it must?ve been Song?s. She was hungry. Cherokee would take care of that.

Talk like this

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