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He doesn’t like when people creep up on him. Then again, he’s not sure they did much creeping in the first place. He was just caught off guard, head turns to stare at the other. “You know. Last person that managed to sneak up on me got a knife to the neck.” Not that he had a knife, but still. His nerves were definitely still on edge.
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“You didn’t see that,” the large wolf said in a laughing manner, coming up from the water almost puppy-like after a hefty wave took him under. That hadn’t happened in quite some time.
£ - master/bad (Evil!Ezra), § , Æ - Ezra's & a female in Covaire/3, µ - like/dislike (both), €, ™
Drabble of my character if they were a slave/civilian/master and they were good/bad. (Pick a rank/personality)
Really, the fucker has it coming to him. Blood calls for blood, when Ezra saw the man beat the slave down to a puddle into the streets, breaking bones, suffocating his cries with a firm grip, he watches. Smoke drifted from his lips, he didn’t intervene, but something in him just itched to have a night with him. He learns his habits, like a good hunter does. He finds out where he goes, what he does, how he does it. Then he makes his move.
It’s night when he finally slips into his house by a window he knows he leaves unlocked. No one will question the act, he’s a master, blame it on territory if you need to, or the primal need to show dominance. He’s quiet, stealthy, locking them in, blocking off exits. The lights are shuts off, he can hear the werewolf startled upstairs. The next moment the Wolf in Ezra just takes over, he sneaks upstairs armed with nothing but a sharp fisher’s knife.
He eats his heart when he’s done and burns down the house.
§ My character will reveal a nightmare they’ve had about yours.
This time, he doesn’t reach Baelfire in time. He hears him scream somewhere in the Arena and he’s running, running so hard his chest heaves and aches, but no matter how fast his legs carry him, it doesn’t even seem he’s moving. Yet even with the distance that seems to keep him away, he can hear every slice of the wolf’s skin and every cry as if he’s right there. When he finally reaches him his neck is sliced wide, nothing but a single piece of skin keeping it on his shoulder.
This time, it’s Ezra who is crying when he buries him with his hands.
Æ Drabble of my character with a female’s child. (3)
He never stops worrying about where she goes, he hovers over her everywhere they go, her wild guardian, her protector. At first he was nothing but angry the mistress brought him in to take care of the little girl, she was her mother, she should have been there. But then the toddler crawled up to be held against Ezra’s chest and any ire he held just melted away.
He loves her more than air.
µ Three things my character likes & dislike about yours.
Likes:
He’s caring, even for people he doesn’t really know. Kinder to Ezra than he thinks he deserves.
He’s not like the other wolves he’s met, the first to change his perspective on the creatures, show they are more than wild animals.
He keeps Ezra’s secrets, as dangerous as they are.
Dislikes:
He’s happy to be a slave.
Ezra thinks his big heart will become his biggest weakness.
He’s made his peace in the city, and Ezra wishes he could be free.
€ My character will describe yours in one sentence.
Best of the worst of us slaves, smiling brightest when the day is dark.
™ Drabble of your character falling asleep on mine.
He’s not sure what hour it is, or even when Baelfire started to doze off. They had been talking all night, about better days than this, and for a moment Ezra was able to look back and remember the beauty in-between the horrors of the Colony. They were both travelers, sharing their stories of their journeys. He likes the places Baelfire described. He’s still talking when Baelfire has long since fallen asleep, looking over only when he gains no response. There is something innocent in the way he looks, he won’t ever admit that he likes it.
He keeps Baelfire there against him when he finally surrenders to sleep too. That night he doesn’t have a nightmare.
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“Can’t believe this shit,” Ezra mutters absently, shifting through the stray assortment of papers he’s been assigned to sort. “Did you know some masters write their favorite fuck buddy here? It’s like comedy gold.”
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Evening.
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"I swear I wasn't staring. I was just... lost in thought."
Just get some rest man :*
Poor thing! I hope you get some rest!
believe me, i did. i slept for damn near twelve hours. but thank you. <3
