Don't be afraid when the night wolves cry,
feast on their bones, suck the marrow dry.
feast on their bones, suck the marrow dry.
Ah -Can you feel it now? That feels like satisfaction- the link of one chain attaching to another is so internally pleasing to him that her answers merit the broadest, the most endearing of smiles from the shimmering blue stallion. A chuckle breaks the calm exterior and if before his face had been near to perfection, now it is mythical beauty reborn. How true, her statement on Pangea! Gone - and with it the anchor of her past. So this is the reason for her spirit to reflect as joy in every shift of movement, subtle as it may be. Even now, while her nose rubs soft circles over the bulge of her fetlock, she seems so certain that nothing can or will go wrong. Optimism; it suits her well. “I’d be hard-pressed to use the word ‘bum’, but yes to the first and no to the second.” Longclaw answers, the smile about his lips dimming from the need for speech.
“I was born in Nerine,” He starts eagerly enough, breaking the sentence apart now to swoop once more for forage. “But my sire took me to Pangea when I was old enough to travel on my own and I trai-” He stops, swallowing silently while he retracts and considers his words. “And I grew up there.” He finishes, tail batting thoughtfully at his sides. “Now I call Tephra home and tomorrow, who knows?” He shrugs himself, a mock of her previous, noncommittal reaction.
“Do you miss it? Pangea, I mean.” The shifter now asks her, cat-like curiosity narrowing his vision before another swoop-and-grab can be made. “Were there people you loved, people who loved you?” He asks more poignantly, trimming the fat of pleasantry from their tet-a-tet to add a bit of an edge to the question. He wonders if it might strike some vital organ or another, this query. Ponders if it might let other emotions flow freely from her soul. His eyes, endlessly green and infinitely hooked on her cannot, will not, move from that sweet, dark face. “Or were you taken there against your will, like me?”
“I was born in Nerine,” He starts eagerly enough, breaking the sentence apart now to swoop once more for forage. “But my sire took me to Pangea when I was old enough to travel on my own and I trai-” He stops, swallowing silently while he retracts and considers his words. “And I grew up there.” He finishes, tail batting thoughtfully at his sides. “Now I call Tephra home and tomorrow, who knows?” He shrugs himself, a mock of her previous, noncommittal reaction.
“Do you miss it? Pangea, I mean.” The shifter now asks her, cat-like curiosity narrowing his vision before another swoop-and-grab can be made. “Were there people you loved, people who loved you?” He asks more poignantly, trimming the fat of pleasantry from their tet-a-tet to add a bit of an edge to the question. He wonders if it might strike some vital organ or another, this query. Ponders if it might let other emotions flow freely from her soul. His eyes, endlessly green and infinitely hooked on her cannot, will not, move from that sweet, dark face. “Or were you taken there against your will, like me?”
Longclaw
![[Image: sScEgld.png]](http://i.imgur.com/sScEgld.png)