( dvnate ! ) it's late in rexxentrum and she curls against him, careful to tuck her horns under his chin without harm as she finally pulls herself away from her work. she's exhausted. it's been a long week of scrying and work for the military and -- " things are getting very serious, aren't they? " her voice is slurred against the side of his chest as her tail comes to wind around his thigh. " we'll be seeing the end of this all soon, i think. "
@dvnate
His fingers rub idly over the horn not tucked against the curl of his throat. It trails over the little ridges and to the tips, before he threads in to her hair and rubs his thumb over the curve of her ear. Things are coming to and end, for sure, but Astrid has higher hopes than he does for this war. Eodwulf lets out a soft sound at the back of his throat, running his fingers from the lip of her ear down along her jaw, until he settles it around her neck. A gentle grip, casual, as if it was something harmless and not possessive like they both knew it to be.
She couldn’t smell the blood, couldn’t hear the screams. For all she could see, she couldn’t hear the wolves at the door baying like baskervilles for slaughter and carnage. It was such a sweet melody at the back of his mind.
“I think we’ll be dispatched, very soon, to begin the final motion.”