11-24-2020, 02:02 AM
so make your siren's call and sing all you want, I will not hear what you have to say --
He can’t help the way that he smiles at Katarine’s attempt to mimic her mother, but he simply lowers his head to touch his nose to the tip of hers. “Am I going to have two girls trying to kill me now?” He has no doubt that the filly will grow up to be like Sabbath – fearsome and beautiful, though he hopes to protect her from all the hardships that he is sure played a role in building the wall Sabbath has fortressed herself behind. He had understood after Crowns being born why his mother had been so protective, but something about the twins – Katarine specifically – had amplified that feeling almost tenfold.
Maybe because when Sabbath leans into him he feels that pang in his chest, the one that often interrupts the usual want and affection. The pang that makes him wonder what had happened to make her so vicious because he finds it hard to believe she had been born that way. He thinks there could have been a version of her where leaning against him would not have felt like the monumental moment it was since usually, all she wanted was to rip into his throat.
His neck curves, only slightly, his nose hovering just above the top of her head, and he still thinks that even if given the option, he wouldn’t trade for a tamer version of her.
There is a moment where he almost touches her, the blue of his lips so close to the warmth of her skin. He lingers there, before drawing back, thinking better of it. His eyes trail back to the twins at her comment, and his lips lift into a smile when he agrees with her quietly, “Me too.” Because he has, and it still finds it unbelievable that he has children at all, much less three. There is a short laugh, low and rumbling in his chest, when she mentions Crowns. “I think he might be at first, but I think he will also like being an older brother. I’m sure he has all kinds of things he wants to show them.” His face pulls into a brief frown then, glancing towards the exit of the den and asking, “Where is he, anyway?”
Maybe because when Sabbath leans into him he feels that pang in his chest, the one that often interrupts the usual want and affection. The pang that makes him wonder what had happened to make her so vicious because he finds it hard to believe she had been born that way. He thinks there could have been a version of her where leaning against him would not have felt like the monumental moment it was since usually, all she wanted was to rip into his throat.
His neck curves, only slightly, his nose hovering just above the top of her head, and he still thinks that even if given the option, he wouldn’t trade for a tamer version of her.
There is a moment where he almost touches her, the blue of his lips so close to the warmth of her skin. He lingers there, before drawing back, thinking better of it. His eyes trail back to the twins at her comment, and his lips lift into a smile when he agrees with her quietly, “Me too.” Because he has, and it still finds it unbelievable that he has children at all, much less three. There is a short laugh, low and rumbling in his chest, when she mentions Crowns. “I think he might be at first, but I think he will also like being an older brother. I’m sure he has all kinds of things he wants to show them.” His face pulls into a brief frown then, glancing towards the exit of the den and asking, “Where is he, anyway?”
VARICK
@[Sabbath]