I love the way that your heart breaks
with every injustice and deadly fate.
He eyes the girl speculatively as she prattles on about pain. She does not enjoy pain, but could she learn to? Ah, now that is the eternal question. He had been born knowing, loving, pain. She had not. But is it a thing that can be taught? This is something he must find out, he thinks.
Regardless, she seems quite determined to stay with him. He would not object. Perhaps she might believe herself smitten, but if so, all the better. She would be all the more complacent were she infatuated.
As he lifts his muzzle, he smells singed hair, raw skin. The scent is a lovely one, to his nostrils what a bouquet of flowers might be to another.
You might yet learn to enjoy it, he says in his raspy voice, dim gray eyes boring into hers.
Raelynx
khaos x eyrie