you're the beacon / longclaw

[Longclaw]

LongClaw

-I close my eyes, Ignore the smoke-

Is it her gentle sigh? The way her eyes shadow with - was that embarrassment? Claw can’t decide; he likes every warring emotion that flits across her face better than the last. “I wasn’t hurt;” She confirms, her follow-up of “thank you for asking” answered only by the deft bob of his dark blue head. Shamelessly, he regrets that she’ll give him no reason to tear apart an offending enemy; it would be nice for the world to know that they couldn’t take advantage of his charges, his -

But he stops himself, or rather Wound stops him from this train of thought with her question about Femur. Longclaw blinks. (Wound is not yours to protect, not yours, not yours) “We’re expecting our first non-adopted rugrat soon.” He laughs warmly in afterthought, the rotund vision of his golden madonna always in the forefront of his thoughts. “She makes a fierce lover, my other herdmares stay far from her sight.” The warg chuckles throatily, unaware and unconcerned if Wound was familiar with his familial workings or not.

He’s never harbored shame for his actions, and neither do any of his girls. This, he assumes, equates success. “She’ll make the perfect mother, but we already knew that, didn’t we?” The commander jokes, delivering the jaunt in a conspiratorial manner. It was commonplace to see his mate weaving through Tephra’s fields and forest, their ducklings somewhat in tow.

But now he shifts; twists his legs over themselves to turn his body so that he and Wound might stand parallel to one another on the shore. “I have no doubt you’ll be equally as charming in the role of motherhood, is this your first?” He wonders aloud, truly curious for the answer. A moment passes and then he follows with, “Should we rest somewhere? I’ve got time - you caught me at the end of rounds.”

He struggles not to sound too hopeful.

@[wound] worth the wait xD