the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives
Sunlight streaks through the branches above them, playing across her dark skin. He likes the way she looks (smooth curves and rich colours) but there is something else about her — something that interests him more than the practiced softness and that sweet smile. Daemron couldn't name what it was, exactly; but she seemed so well put together that he finds himself wondering what it would be like to watch her come apart. There is nothing raw about Pyxis, and that is exactly why he wonders. She is pretty — she wears it like silk and wraps it closely about her, and yet without it she could be so beautiful.
"I don't know if my parents were ever in love," he says, his voice dismissive. "Sometimes it felt like more of a show than anything else." He'd hated that feeling — another fraying rope unwinding. Having finished grooming, the she-wolf huffs and curls in the long grass. Her eyes close, though one long red ear remains pricked in their direction. "Your family's close, then?" Daemron asks. He believes it a simple question, and he envies the simple answer that he expects her to give. Yes.
He knows that love binds — he has yet to know that love breaks.
He shrugs at the next turn in conversation, though a muscle in his jaw jumps again. After a heavy pause he says, "Anywhere." Then he laughs shortly (much like a quick bark), leaning in close so that the wolf cannot hear him. "But if the mutt falls asleep, nowhere fast." He straightens with a smirk to the sound of a low rumble coming from beneath the tree, though he pretends not to hear it.
In reality, he isn't sure where they'll go. He used to call the Valley his home, but with his family scattered he now held little allegiance to the kingdom itself. Perhaps he and Red would disappear into darkened woods together and forget the rest — but even though Daemron entertains the thought, nothing would come of it. He is not made for solitude, just as Pyxis is not made for it. The faint glow of his gaze rests on her, thinking about how she'd phrased her question. She hadn't asked where he'd come from as one usually does. He shifts, tilting his chestnut head in her direction with a measure of curiosity in his grey eyes. "What about you, Pyxis? Going anywhere?"