Post by Lirriel on Oct 18, 2017 8:22:35 GMT -5
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[attr="class","ContentStyle"]It was a trip borne out of a desire to relax – and whilst Fenris found relaxing to be a sedentary activity, one done in the heat of day when the sun was directly overhead and Hawke was curled around him – well, that wasn’t what Hawke had in mind.
Though Fenris sometimes wondered if his foolish lover had anything that could even begin to resemble a brain in that great shaggy head of his. As far as he was aware, it was a culmination of hot hair and a step-by-step instruction guide on how to most annoy those around him. But, that was partially why Fenris had allowed himself to become so entangled in Hawke to begin with. To that wolf, life itself was a game to be played – and there was an almost serene detachment to his surroundings, as if he was merely an actor in a particularly long play.
And, most importantly, he took Fenris’ own blunted emotions in good cheer, could not have been dissuaded during their courtship when it was Fenris who had spooked and run, terrified of the possibilities that had materialized before him. But he had also been patient, never pressuring, only ever courteous (insofar as he could be) until Fenris had returned to his side with the quietest of apologies, the touch of muzzle to muzzle beneath the night’s veil.
Reminiscing did nothing to change the present, though: Hawke, off gallivanting about, teasing bears until they turned to give chase and then springing away with that roguish grin splashed across his handsome maw. Fenris snorted, then dipped his head to lap from the stream he had stumbled across while tracing the path Hawke had taken.
His eyes naturally slipped shut, and so he was not aware of the flash that spread out over the island, only truly knew that the brook’s water was chilled and satisfying, had not the stink of sea brine that permeated the water closer to the coast.
But his head jerked up, eyes snapping open, as the voice resounded in his head. His lips immediately drew back in a silent snarl, even as his gaze danced – and yet even as he searched for the owner, he knew instinctively that she was not to be found – nowhere his eyes could yet discern, anyway.
For several moments, the silence stretched out. His body was drawn taut, the cords of muscle beneath his pelt tensed in preparation. Then, still wary, he rumbled out a gravelly, “And what price would be attached to this power, demon?”
Too well he knew the price others had paid for empty promises – but never had he been approached directly. And thoughts of devils were enough to wrinkle his lips, the glimmering tips of his fangs flashing in the reflection that rippled upon the water.
Though Fenris sometimes wondered if his foolish lover had anything that could even begin to resemble a brain in that great shaggy head of his. As far as he was aware, it was a culmination of hot hair and a step-by-step instruction guide on how to most annoy those around him. But, that was partially why Fenris had allowed himself to become so entangled in Hawke to begin with. To that wolf, life itself was a game to be played – and there was an almost serene detachment to his surroundings, as if he was merely an actor in a particularly long play.
And, most importantly, he took Fenris’ own blunted emotions in good cheer, could not have been dissuaded during their courtship when it was Fenris who had spooked and run, terrified of the possibilities that had materialized before him. But he had also been patient, never pressuring, only ever courteous (insofar as he could be) until Fenris had returned to his side with the quietest of apologies, the touch of muzzle to muzzle beneath the night’s veil.
Reminiscing did nothing to change the present, though: Hawke, off gallivanting about, teasing bears until they turned to give chase and then springing away with that roguish grin splashed across his handsome maw. Fenris snorted, then dipped his head to lap from the stream he had stumbled across while tracing the path Hawke had taken.
His eyes naturally slipped shut, and so he was not aware of the flash that spread out over the island, only truly knew that the brook’s water was chilled and satisfying, had not the stink of sea brine that permeated the water closer to the coast.
But his head jerked up, eyes snapping open, as the voice resounded in his head. His lips immediately drew back in a silent snarl, even as his gaze danced – and yet even as he searched for the owner, he knew instinctively that she was not to be found – nowhere his eyes could yet discern, anyway.
For several moments, the silence stretched out. His body was drawn taut, the cords of muscle beneath his pelt tensed in preparation. Then, still wary, he rumbled out a gravelly, “And what price would be attached to this power, demon?”
Too well he knew the price others had paid for empty promises – but never had he been approached directly. And thoughts of devils were enough to wrinkle his lips, the glimmering tips of his fangs flashing in the reflection that rippled upon the water.
something to do with passing through solid objects, please! (though feel free to punish him for being obstinate lol) | |
stock by Fall of Rain. | |
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