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#1


A Deafening Silence



Words wished to well within him, to drown him til no air could get out. Yet, even though he struggled to breathe without a feverish pant, not a thing was spoken. For, to speak, one had to think. To think, one's thoughts needed to be composed of sentences, and those sentences composed of words, and those words composed of syllables and—and all he had was white noise. It skittered within his ears and filled his skull with cotton. Beyond a gut-wrenching sense of foreboding and anger and intensity, Elias was lost. The emotion within him was alien as though it belonged to another. So raw were the feelings that he shivered, attempting to shake the bitter cloak from his shoulders.

The fabric had stitched itself to his skin, however. A needle and thread had dredged up the old memories of a child raised within winter, of a boy whose mother had rarely smiled and a father who had barely spoken. Feelings of impassiveness had been a balm to that pup's neglect. After all, he had not needed either of his parents: his uncles and other pack members had made up for what the pair had lacked. And yet—the sight of his father had shaken the stillness from Elias.

The silence, however, still remained. Not by choice but by habit, for the boy had long failed to look inside and sort the messy feelings. There was little to sort, after all, when there was nothing there. Sinclair, however, was a hurricane to shatter the walls and send splinter the floor.

Now there was far too much to handle.

Worldlessly, Elias followed instinct. His paws carried him to comfort for that was what he lacked most. And—when at last he found her among her herbs and berries—he stopped. A moment passed where he lingered, uncertain and confused. Then, with smell steps, he pressed his head against russet fur.

Sinking to his belly, he curled up soundlessly against Nastasya.

"We are all young and naive still."

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#2
quiet nights...
It was rare to find herself fully alone nowadays, her little noctilucent cloud always at her side, hovering idly as he had been so strung on making sure she was alright after the incident. Though as time went on, he had started to separate from her more often to do his own thing but would usually return before the next day could truly start or before she woke from her slumbers. It did make her anxious on the rare occasion she woke before his return, worried about what might have happened to him or what could happen to him while he was alone. The sweet ones got taken advantage of and she was well aware of that from her own experiences. Admittedly, she did allow it to happen time and time again in a frail effort to try and see the good in others. It rarely ended well though, usually never seeing them again unless they just wanted something from her, which was understandable in her opinion. If she provided freely, why not just abuse that kindness?

Paws cycled along the forest floor where a pile of plants rested, scavenging herbs for the most part as she determined which to bring with her verse which to leave behind, as her travels could take her to places lacking such variety. Absentmindedly she munched on a few berries she had no ability to carry since they had already fallen off the twig she had gnawed off the bush. Her tail gently swayed behind her as she turned over a few of the aromatic leaves, inspecting to see if they would last much longer. As much as ones that had been dried by the sun could be of help, some of those plants needed to be full of hydration to be of use. Lightly she plucked a few from the pile that had started to wilt or go fragile; crumble with little to no touch, doing the same to a couple petals.

Marigold ears flicked at the sound of twigs snapping under paw and the summer brush being swiped with each passing step, causing most of her muscles to tense as she didn't know whom or what to expect. Before she could so much as turn her head, the noise had stopped and she made no mind to look up as a familiar scent entered her nose, one she had encountered more than once. Nearly every time she had met him it involved someone being injured or at least claimed to be injured, his last excursion to her seeming futile when he demanded healing for nothing at all. Part of her wondered if he had only made the trip to see her while it also made her question if he simply liked the girl he had brought, Phaedra, being overbearing in a desire to keep her safe and healthy. Either way it didn't bother her in the end, return company was always pleasant and at least from the scent she didn't think he was hurt or ill. No sign of sickness or blood along the quiet winds.

As she was about to address him by name and greet him with words she expected him to ignore, his steps started again and b-lined straight toward her with a few worn down steps. It didn't take long to feel his breath against her skin as his muzzle and skull separated her strands of fur messily before collapsing into her side. It wasn't unusual for him to make contact without warning, she felt she should be used to it by now but her heart still pattered in her chest rapidly for a moment; not out of fear or discomfort but rather simple shock. That shock disappeared quickly as she turned her head to look at his coiled up figure, tempted to ask him if he was okay but ultimately she decided against that. He wasn't one to talk simply by being coaxed and fussed over, if he did it was usually barbed with annoyance.

Letting out a soft sigh, she moved to gently wrap what she could of herself around him, dropping what she was doing to tend to the far younger male she had foolishly claimed as her son in a bout of lethargy. She would be lying to herself if she tried claiming that alone was why she had said it, she did care about him and viewed him in such a light. She would never apologize for it. With no hesitance at all, she lightly nuzzled his shoulder to both greet and check to make sure it healed okay. Her gaze glazed over the rest of him. "I'm glad you came back to me safely...this time," she whispered affectionately, relieved that neither of them had any new physical injuries to deal with.

Now it was time to focus on his mental state. It was hard to read anything, he could be only wanting a nap but her instincts told her otherwise as she could feel a tenseness both in his body and spiritually. It felt off but she had no idea in what way. Slowly she sank into maternal impulse to sooth him with gentle rasps of her tongue along his cheek and ears to delicately groom him, if he allowed. He was a fickle creature, dining on affection by his own terms.

"Speaking"

...and summer dreams
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#3


A Deafening Silence



Pfft. Dull was the desire to admonish Nastasya for her efforts. Why bother trying to curl around him when he was far larger? She could barely mold herself to the whole of his back let alone bundle him up like a pup. It was silly to make this effort—but he did not speak his frustrations aloud. Instead, he remained silent, eyes closed. Wayward thoughts filled his skull. Some were criticisms, yes, but they were halfhearted at best. Despite all that he could not comprehend, he knew one thing: he did not want to push her away. More than anything, he wanted her to stay, to hold onto whatever possessed her to show such kindness.

"I'm glad you came back to me safely...this time."

An ashen ear flicked in recognition. He could muster nothing else for, while his lips parted, not a sound escaped.

Why?

While he normally opted not to speak, he had never lost the ability. Yet, in this moment, a lump had formed within his throat. It threatened to fill his eyes with tears whenever he dared to make a noise.

Squeezing his eyes shut more fiercely, he burrowed into the warm furs of her shoulder. Calming was the rhythmic rasp of her tongue as it ghosted over his ears and brow. The fastidious, domestic action was soothing in a way he could not articulate. And yet, the more she busied herself over his fur, the more his pulse settled.

When at last he found the strength to speak, he did so into her fur.

"Found." A shaky breath filled his lungs, the air stained by her scent. "Father."



"We are all young and naive still."

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#4
quiet nights...
She had to admit, the silence when it came to him she was used to, the fact he wasn't showing some kind of disapproval to her actions on the other hand had her far more concerned. This wasn't by any stretch of the imagination a push and pull kind of relationship, rather it was quite the opposite as it was more of a take or nothing. If he didn't want something, he'd make it plain as day with a hefty glare or grunt, perhaps something physical that might make one take a step back and therefore he got probably his way. On a rare occasion, he'd voice his displeasure with her actions. Of course she could get a little overbearing and get a tad snippy, much to her own dismay, leaving him to act like a little spoiled prince. Right prince. The name she used when they first met. How time had drifted by, with so many odd events flocking to that webbing of her life but she couldn't say she regretted many of them, no matter how bad the ending of some were.

Gemstone eyes caught the subtle flick of his ear, her fur spreading as he seemed to go to speak but nothing more than an effort to open his mouth occurred. Instead, a force overtook her shoulder as her tongue had lightly started to stroke away his discomfort, once again not refused by the young male that seemed to only press into her more and more firm, as though a child trying to hide. Her heart bounded against her ribcage, memories of what could have been nipping at her thoughts and a faint pressure behind her eyes burned, the very reason she left Cyrileth flocking back in a swarming unkindness of ravens. They could have been his size by now. No. Now wasn't the time to think about something long dead.

That bounding was replaced with a burning, melting as she looked over what she could see of his face as her tongue caressed each strand and muscle that lined his angelic features, doing her best to keep the saliva to a minimum. Against her side she could feel each disheveled breath, it feeling like he had sprinted miles to get here by the way his lungs expanded quickly yet shallow; hyperventilating. Despite him sounding like he had gotten done running like a mad man, his body didn't echo that same heated pulse, if anything his body felt strangely cold despite his face burning against her tongue. It wasn't unusual for the body to redirect heat from the limbs to the core in terms of survival but there was no reason for it to do so right now. Which left her with one option, a malfunction of the mind. Was he having a panic attack? The body could respond in odd ways when the mind was in flight mode, fighting to save itself in every way it knew how, even if there was no physical threat.

Sun kissed ears that blanketed the top of her head rose a little, feeling that rapid breathing slow to something a little more calm after a while of silence and nothing but maternal instinct there to comfort him. Where lavender, chamomile, licorice root, passionflower, damiana, kava root, motherwort, lemon balm, valerian, etc; could help soothe a mind, the best remedy often laid in that of comfort from another, in her experience. Nothing could beat the feeling of someone caring, the warmth of a pelt, the scent of something familiar. Anything that could ignite happy endorphins into the brain and though she didn't likely have much hold on his life, if any at all, she was more than willing to spend as much time as he needed to in order to bring him back down to a calm.

Not because she thought of it as a healers duty but because he was important to her, filling a small void in her heart and if he needed something like that in return, she was here for him. She always would be so long as breath filled her lungs and her heart continued to beat.

Eyes widened and ears flicked forward in surprise as a word shook from his mouth, warming a patch of fur on her shoulder. As labored as it was, a second word shortly accompanied the last to form a statement that she didn't know how to process at first, when paired with how he was acting. Found father. Something so simple and straight forward, how did it remain so barren? She knew nothing about Elias aside from his name and his normal unusual behaviors. His personal life was a mystery to her, never bothering to ask since she didn't think she would get an answer.

It didn't take long for her mind to start hopping around for answers, stilling the gentle rasps as she seemed to go blank for a moment, staring at him for a few long seconds. The only thing she could deduce was that it wasn't something positive, regardless how the words alone sounded like something one would be happy about. Though thinking about it, did she not have an odd sense of dread each time she was reminded of her own brother, someone she loved yet feared more than she wanted to admit? However, that didn't connect to his own dilemma and instead her thoughts shifted to something even darker. For him to be so shaken up, to act the way he was, her mind could only travel to that of him possibly finding his father dead and her chest wrenched at the thought.

"Honey, what... happened?" she asked with warmth and worry, choosing to not jump to any conclusions in hope he would be open with her. He was the one to initiate this development. Eyes half lidded as she leaned in to gently nuzzled his cheek and give it a comforting kiss. After a moment, her head lifted to wrap over his neck the best it could in order to both protect a vital point and to draw him in closer, if that were possible. "Any warmth or comfort you seek, you have for as long as you need. I'm here for you and only you right now, Elias, I will not go anywhere. And if you don't wish to speak, you do not have to but know I will listen to your every word," coo as soft as silk, returning to that grooming habit once silence invaded their space once more.

"Speaking"

...and summer dreams
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#5


A Deafening Silence



For a brief moment, the grooming stopped. He felt the crawl of her eyes as she searched him for wounds and signs of wear. As she stared, he could only wonder what she saw beyond the ivory fur and powdered brow. Was it a boy that curled at her breast, his eyes squeezed shut to keep the memories at bay? Or was it a prince, one who had long been locked within a frozen prison, his opulence awry with icy shackles. Did she pity him? Or was it sympathy that allowed him to bury into her shoulder? Was she inclined to leave, or did some part of her enjoy being needed? Did she count this as selfishness or selflessness—?

Thoughts, ones he had never known, bubbled to the forefront of his consciousness. For one so keen on logic and simplicity, he had become a doll with loosely sewn seems. He was falling apart and the rotten cotton was pushing past the thread. That which was primal was that which he could trust—these thoughts he could not. They dug too deep and pressed greedy fingers against a heart so carefully frozen in ice.

Anxiously, he tried to press his brow to Nastasya's lips. For a moment, he was desperate for the rhythmic nothingness of her touch. It was soothing enough to clear the static and bring about a pleasant lull.

"Honey... what happened?" His breath hitched as she spoke. Heavy breaths dampened for a moment and, suddenly, he realized that he had been panting. A cold sweat covered him and he peeked through periwinkle eyes.

Had he been well, he would have objected to the pet name. In this moment, however, he preferred it to his own. Such was a name his father had spoken and he wanted nothing more than to burn it from his skin.

She moved to pull him closer, to wrap him in a hug. It was... warm, just as his mother had been before her death. The kiss she planted upon his cheek wiped away a single tear. Damp was the fur that cloaked him there.

"Any warmth or comfort you seek, you have for as long as you need. I'm here for you and only you right now, Elias, I will not go anywhere..." Was it true? No. Eventually, she would be forced to leave. If not to hunt then to relieve herself. If not to do that, then to greet the ebon' madman that she seemed so fond of. But—if she could look at him with rose colored glasses, perhaps he could grant her a small sliver of confidence. Perhaps he could believe in her sweet nothings just this once.

"Dead." He whispered.

A pause.

"I wish he were dead."



"We are all young and naive still."

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#6
quiet nights...
While her head had been away for only a moment, movement could be felt and seen as a cool grey toned crown moved toward her, the staining of tears and sweat easily being felt as her fur patched together and stuck to her skin. She couldn't see his face in the slightest, tucked ever so delicately from her view as his head was kept lower than her own, reaching for her muzzle like a frail newborn seeking mother's milk. That small tremble of desperation that made her heart constrict all the more as she observed him, that urge to dote on a full grown man was such an odd feeling but not a new one. Time and time again she would get that desire when she saw one beckon for her comforting touch, that craving of wanting that unrestrained and untested love of a mother, she was happy -eager to provide. Though he acted perfect for the role of a needy child, she may never know his actual opinion of her.

The moment she spoke, the feeling of his ribs seemed to fluctuate in random patterns: breaking, speeding, deepening before relaxing once more if only a little. She swore she caught a glimpse of his eyes for but a moment, that very light indigo flickering from the veil of fur and lash but it seemed to disappear as quick as it came. Even if it had stayed any longer, she had already taken him close to her wings of marigold, cutting away any space left that either might have had, a salty nip upon her tongue. As her nose had slid into his fur, she could feel the dampness underneath the initial layer, salted liquid covering near every inch of his figure but it did not bother her though it made her want to drag him into a river so he could hydrate back that water he was losing as he sweated profusely.

All was silent between them for a good few moments, the woodland fauna and the peaceful summer winds kept her mind from drifting too far away, focusing her eyes on a small woodpecker that dug for some larvae that burrowed in the wood. The gentle rasp of her tongue he would lightly feel along his neck and up more along the back of his head and ears. It seemed like she was licking a salt block with each new spot she mindlessly moved to, though the unbridled affection and meticulous rhythm never hiccupped despite her vision being elsewhere. All her other senses stayed on him, ear flicking to each breath he made, body braced for any changes or movement he might do, nose wiggling for any signs of illness taking over his body from the stress it was going under. She was tempted to ask him if he was nauseous, felt faint, stomach lurched or if he wanted a herb to aide in calming his breaths.

The little black, white and red specimen flew away not too long after she noticed it and it left her to focus her gaze back down, contemplating that unspoken question. As she was about to go into her pile of herbs, starting to think maybe he could do with more than just company to relieve his flailing mind, a single word slipped from his lips. Dead. It hit like a hammer as she thought of countless bodies she had seen in her lifetime, the few clients she couldn't help and most of all her own kin. It wasn't the death of another that truly bothered her but the effect it had on the living. Once a mind was gone from a body she couldn't do anything, their suffering was over upon that time. If one believed in gods, the stars, they could see it as them being finally at peace. It was out of her hands and she would move on. Perhaps it was simply because she could survive off of memories that deaths personal to herself didn't rock her too much but to see someone else suffer at the hands of it, it ate her alive after seeing what it could do to others. Something no herb could remedy though fermented berries and mushrooms could help one forget temporarily.

Slowly she was about to shift herself but then more words were uttered, whispered, being so close they came out almost normal. Rubies widened and that twist in her heart moved to that of her gut, pausing as she glanced down at the boy. He was strange but such a desire wasn't really something she thought someone like him to be interested in, let alone in that of one's own kin. The statement itself didn't rock her much, it was the unsaid context that did, one didn't say such things without a reason. As much as she tried teasing that he was a prince, for him to keep returning to her and to put up with her own unusual nature; there had to be something significant that happened. A third time she glanced his body over for wounds, tempted to flip him onto his back to see if there was any indicator of varied physical abuse on his person but did not attempt to do such a thing.

Letting out a composed sigh, sliding her head further down his neck to lightly guide his head more so into her forearms and paws, if he would allow, giving her the ability to see his face and possibly clean away anymore tears. "Why?" she returned gently, no judgement in her tone, only empathy and worry. Though she had never uttered it aloud, there was someone she sometimes wished had perished long, long ago. It would have saved so many lives and maybe they could have been at peace instead of tormented by their own mind.

"Has he h-hurt you... or anyone you care about, sweetheart?"

"..."

...and summer dreams
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#7


A Deafening Silence



Why?

Had he been a boy, he would have been one alone within a vast room. His legs would have been crossed as he sat upon a threadbare mattress. If he reached out a hand, he could almost touch the opposing wall. A single window had fluttering, violet curtains that let in pale rays of light.

He would have touched a collection of polaroids that littered his sheets. They were pristine for he had rarely touched them, let alone look at them. When he did, he often felt his stomach twist and his chest tighten.

One was an image of a beautiful woman. Her skin was porcelain, her hair white, her eyes blue, her lips... plain and neutral. After all, his mother had rarely smiled.

This was his least favorite of all the ones he owned. And yet... and yet he could not crumple it within his palm or throw it away. The notion of ruining the image hurt more than keeping it did.

"Has he h-hurt you... or anyone you care about, sweetheart?"

...

Elias allowed his head to be guided onto the she-wolf's forepaws. Ivory melded into cream and russet. Pale lashes were beaded with tears but no more fell. Periwinkle eyes were distant, unfocused.

"Mother died." His voice sounded ghostly and detached, though Nastasya had likely grown used to that by now. "Father coveted her." A pause, one in which he swallowed and adjusted his jaw. It felt odd to speak, to breathe life into old memories.

"None could bury her. Crows circled overhead." A furrow formed deep within his brow. "She began to rot." Her fur had been the first to go and maggots had taken to the skin beneath. Still, none had been allowed close enough.

"Father still wouldn't let her go."

... A sudden wave of nausea and frustration washed over him. His teeth clacked together suddenly and the muscles in his jaw jumped.


"We are all young and naive still."

code by claerie , image by Aaron Burden
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#8
quiet nights...
Lack of resistance continued to baffle the mother hen of the duo, her gaze settled onto him after his head was moved upon the equivalent of her lap and her tongue played that of a hand, gently brushing away the tears that had piled up along the rim. The salt was continuously heavy upon her tongue no matter where it was placed but this time it was more pure like the ocean, refreshing yet drying her tongue at the same time, making her even wish for a drink now but alas, she had to be patient. At least that was something she was good at, being a therapist not so much, at least she had failed at it a lot in the past. Her blood red moons closed and she returned to flittering her tongue along his crown and cheeks, tail swaying ever so slightly behind her as she felt a sense of fulfillment yet a dread and anxiety wore down any form of pleasantry in this situation, the way the limb moved was weak at best.

Then came a floodgate of story in segments, as deadpan as ever, each syllable nothing more than a spirits whisper touching her ears. It were the words that were weighted, sticking like dried honey to her heart and her tail halted completely. As he paused, so did she, eyes batting open to look down at the child upon her legs, once so cold yet now was melting into a puddle along her frame and it was so strange to see. To see any emotion on his face was rarity but for him weep and open his heart up and let her in, if only for today, it drew her in. Lightly she pressed the bridge of her nose to his cheek, waiting to see if he would speak more and that he did. She could feel the muscles along his face tightening as his brow scrunched up with every note he spoke, his description though limited painted a vivid picture and her gut twisted as she thought of a little boy watching such things to the point her one breath caught.

She managed to still the deafening urges that purged along her senses as he finished what he had to say for now, ears pinning as she tried to think of what to do but ultimately she decided what she normally did, just to do what felt natural to her. "Shhhh shh sh," she hushed gently, raising a forearm to lightly cradle his shoulder and pull him to her bosom. Carefully she leaned her head over to grab ahold of a small root and two different sprigs from the herb pile she had been sorting prior to his appearance. Pulling off a couple leaves and breaking off a small piece of the root, she chewed the mint and ginger into a pulp and smeared it onto her own arm to allow for the aroma to hopefully sooth him. "Consumption is better for a turning stomach but...it is pungent on the tongue," she offered him a more efficient option but she wasn't going to lie to him, it wasn't the most appealing flavor along her buds right now, the ginger in particular bothering her tongue a little in such high concentrate. She wished she had honey to offer him instead but she wasn't about to mess with a bee hive. She also nipped at a couple lavender flowers to give some extra aromatherapy, though kept that sprig more off to the side.

Once she was set on herbs she thought could be of help for him, she focused back on what he had told her and let loose a breath, ears tipped back. "You never got to say goodbye to her, no closure...how cruel and selfish a man to do so to his own children," she started with a heated tone of near anger, glancing away from him before taking in a breath to calm and continue. "I never got to mourn my own parents either...my brother kept father's death a secret from me for a while...I didn't learn till after mother was murdered in front of us and brother was severely injured, I tried calling out for dad once the pack was gone, desperate for help in saving them both..." she trailed off and sighed. "He of course never came."

She went into a small daze, her eyes not focused on anything for a little while before she looked down at Elias and put on a forced smile. "I grew from a playful child to a panicked caregiver over a matter of minutes, spending every moment tending my brother's wounds and mind as best I could. There was no time to think about who was already dead, whom I'd never see again. I was the only one left unscathed...perhaps it was karma for my cowardice, hiding, that I didn't get a chance to truly say goodbye. You were right to compare me to a rabbit but I think even a rabbit is braver than I was," she laughed awkwardly at the morbidly timed joke. Humor was something she always tried to use to cope along the broken strings of her life, usually a clear sign in reality she wanted to cry but wouldn't allow herself to.

The smile disappeared after a moment, somberly she returned to giving him soothing rasps.

"..."

...and summer dreams
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#9


A Deafening Silence



The woman began to move, careful to pull him close before busying herself in the stores of herbs she'd gathered. Small movements occasionally forced his head to tilt or be squished by the lowering of her neck—all things that pulled a dissatisfied grunt from him. Though weak and perhaps a tad desperate, he was not without a minutia of standards. He preferred to be cozy, not tucked into a mild and disjointed roller coaster. But, alas, he truly had little to critique. Nastasya had smoothed his fur fifty times over and still she seemed compelled to groom him. The rhythmic motions laid flat the threads of his mind that had threatened to fray and twist.

When a sweet smell filled the air, he peeked at a messy pulp of green and brown. His muzzle wrinkled with distaste though, in truth, there was nothing disgusting about the perfume. Only the sight earned the "medicine" a few dubious glances. Subconsciously, his jaw tightened, as if a child preparing to refuse treatment at all costs. If Nastasya dared to try and make him eat that... He huffed, a puff of air disturbing the sprigs of lavender she had set to the side.

Having contented herself for the moment, she spoke of his situation. Her voice was apologetic but, in truth, he was not sure how to feel. Had he been a victim? Had his father been wrong? Elias failed to put words to the emotions that frothed and boiled within his gut. He did not know what was right or moral in that memory, but he felt an instinctual tug that feverishly demanded that he bury it.

Steadily, Nastasya began to reveal her story. Though his expression remained impassive against her chest, an ashen ear did curve to the side so that he might hear her. Her voice sounded distant from above, but it paired well with the beating of her heart. The healer's pulse seemed to quicken as anger and loss colored the words she spoke aloud.

The more she spoke, the more her tried to appear asleep.

It was not that he wanted to hurt her with disinterest, but rather, that was exactly what he was trying to avoid. A part of him knew that, in the moment, he would never conjure up the words she wished to hear. Rather than wallow in that guilt, he preferred that she think him ignorant. He'd rather be a babe that had tuckered himself out than a prince with a heart of ice—at least right now, anyway.

He made steady and soft his breathing and, carefully, he remained still. His eyes were closed and, to the outside world, he was asleep. Inside, however, he rolled her story over metaphorical palms, thumbing the details and considering its nuance. There was so much pain that she seemed to carry, but like a tiger-eye was encased in chocolate stone, so too were her burdens buried deep. Guilt and self-blame coated the surface and left him feeling dissonant.

But, as one is prey to making their facade reality, so too did Elias grow sleepy. The rhythmic rasps of her tongue returned and, within moments, he was truly asleep.

[ Exit Elias // via sleep ]


"We are all young and naive still."

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#10
quiet nights...
It had become quiet, almost too quiet and she didn't notice until her voice had ceased. She felt bad she didn't notice he had fallen asleep, what kind of medic was she if she couldn't notice the subtle changes in a body directly touching her? She figured a bad one but at least he seemed peaceful now, be it from boredom or tire, she could not be sure as she stopped touching his frame with her spit. Her tongue hung lazily from between her teeth, peeking out just a little as she gazed over him and let out a sigh, not sure what to do with him since he was far larger than her and she didn't want to disturb his dreams if he had any. Flicking her spotted tongue back within the cavern from once it came, hoping to have spit return to her now that she was done grooming; soothing him as best she could manage.

There was no denying she felt like she did a horrid job at comforting him, blabbing about herself in the end when he hadn't asked for it and she probably just made him annoyed by doing so. No wonder he fell asleep, probably was the easiest way he could escape her unrelenting voice from being heard. She had tried to make a bond with him, show some form of understanding to put even ground between them. In the end though, she should have let him speak more instead of trying to connect with him, when he obviously didn't come here for that. What he truly wanted, she didn't know but she could have done better. Affection, an ear to listen, that was how she should have stayed instead of forcing her own past onto him. As expected she failed to do the correct thing, again. Or maybe she was being too hard on herself and she had succeeded by allowing him peace enough to sleep. She doubted she'd ever know, this was a rare occasion he had ever spoken to her on a personal level and she felt like it wouldn't likely happen again.

She tenderly nuzzled her muzzle into the soft fur along her shoulders before allowing her head to rest overtop of them, doing the one thing she did promise. She wouldn't leave him and would do her best to be there for him so long as he wished it.

-End Thread-


"..."

...and summer dreams
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Map of Cyrileth by Amphispiza. Board images by ??????.
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