Crevan's shifting is uncomfortable to watch. There had only been a handful of times that Amet had ever seen him in his equine form and it's quite obvious in the uncertainty of his hooves and gangly legs that the son of Circinae and Canaan had hardly, if ever, parted from his canine form during the years the Dragon-King had been away. And though it tugs at his heartstrings, nearly coaxing him to withdraw the nihilism that seeps like tendrils into Crevan's magic, Amet cannot bear to think what the tightly-coiled male could do with tooth and claw if he allowed him to remain as a wolf in the midst of Hyaline.
Especially with Jah-Lilah so close. The red soothsayer may be ready to be ushered away from the mortal world if the earth-mother decides it's her time, but he isn't.
"Defiled?"" he repeats incredulously, ears twisting to stand at half-mast as he grows instantly defensive of Jah-Lilah. The red wytch had always, and would always, care for Circinae ─ and if there is one thing that the dragonhide stallion knows about the gold-dust woman, it's that her heart is large and ever-expansive; never does it fill to the brim. Instead it grows with time and with her exponential love. There's no chance in this world or any other that she would defile Circinae's grave.
Amet bites his tongue. He's not given much choice, either way, as Crevan's words continue through his snarls. Unlike his choice words about Jah-Lilah, the biting insults towards Corvus and Canaan do very little to affect Hyaline's Primarch. He'd never had much chance to get to know Crevan's brother, and Canaan's affinity for the wind had turned him into just that.
Good riddance.
He can sense Jah's presence before he can see her. His soul aches for hers and though her arrival to this reunion draws a cold anxiety into the center of his chest, it also settles his taut muscles knowing that she's there. He tries not to let it show in the way he holds his gilded frame, both certain and stoic, against the tumultuous and dangerous sea that is Crevan.
His final words, a threat against the red wytch, finally pulls Amet's lips away from his blunted teeth. While they are less than formidable against the wolf's blood that he knows Crevan to possess, outward anger from Amet is rare and not to be taken lightly.
I am here, Fire-Fang, she says as she pulls herself away from the confines of the dark forest and into the open. Her red body moves within striking distance of the wolf-shifter, as if in slow motion, and Amet's heart threatens to beat out of his chest as he waits expectantly for Crevan's reaction to the red wytch who stands before him, a ghost from his past.
─ don't get cut on my edges
@[Crevan] & @[Jah-Lilah] ♥