04-24-2018, 08:08 PM
When Femur’s first pregnancy became a solid fact, Longclaw had not believed the amount of love he could have for her would ever grow deeper.
He should’ve known, by then, that anything concerning his soulmate should never be quantified in terms of beginnings or ends.
Claw remembers how scared he’d been the day she brought Wildling home to live with them. How (for a split second) he’d buckled under the weight of fatherhood. Her eyes of coal had been the dam to suspend his rush of heedless emotion - his Ghost-girl had always been that way, fiercely unafraid in the face of certain defeat.
Looking at her now with that same expression of reproachful determination dragged him tooth and nail back to reality. It centered him, gave focus to the sometimes hazy expression he wore. “He is fantastic, isn’t he?” The shifter admits, crumbling when she dazzles him with a signature look. “They all are, of course. We were fantastic parents …”
“Unlike my father.” He thinks in a rush of bitter resentment. If it weren’t for that wretched creature and his continual scheming, Claw could have had the semblance of a peaceful future with the object of his every waking fantasy. He wouldn’t have to force a depressing necessity upon Femur, who so obviously wanted nothing more than his adoration. “Promise me that when you’ve finished listening to what I have to say, you’ll consider your options and do the right thing when the moment arrives.”
For once, the vein of his seriousness could not be turned aside by the welcome warmth of her belly and hips fitting into his own; if he gave into her desires (he would, he always did) she would thank him later for pressing her into such a tight corner.
@[Femur]
He should’ve known, by then, that anything concerning his soulmate should never be quantified in terms of beginnings or ends.
Claw remembers how scared he’d been the day she brought Wildling home to live with them. How (for a split second) he’d buckled under the weight of fatherhood. Her eyes of coal had been the dam to suspend his rush of heedless emotion - his Ghost-girl had always been that way, fiercely unafraid in the face of certain defeat.
Looking at her now with that same expression of reproachful determination dragged him tooth and nail back to reality. It centered him, gave focus to the sometimes hazy expression he wore. “He is fantastic, isn’t he?” The shifter admits, crumbling when she dazzles him with a signature look. “They all are, of course. We were fantastic parents …”
“Unlike my father.” He thinks in a rush of bitter resentment. If it weren’t for that wretched creature and his continual scheming, Claw could have had the semblance of a peaceful future with the object of his every waking fantasy. He wouldn’t have to force a depressing necessity upon Femur, who so obviously wanted nothing more than his adoration. “Promise me that when you’ve finished listening to what I have to say, you’ll consider your options and do the right thing when the moment arrives.”
For once, the vein of his seriousness could not be turned aside by the welcome warmth of her belly and hips fitting into his own; if he gave into her desires (he would, he always did) she would thank him later for pressing her into such a tight corner.
@[Femur]
![[Image: sScEgld.png]](http://i.imgur.com/sScEgld.png)