[I’m not like them but I can pretend.]
[Kurt Cobain]

Her complete inability to stop her questions was so endearing that Noche wanted to rush to the wolfess’s side to reassure her that he’d left the past in the past, and didn’t intend to let it cloud his future. But what a mess he was making of it, watching Miya’s eyes flick down (ashamed? contrite?) and allowing her to accept the moral blame of inquiring of his family. “Don’t worry,” he rushed to answer her, “They are dead, but I can still think about them without pain. I loved them, but everyone has their time.” He blinked with calm acceptance of this fact, assuming the head-bowed position of one who knew mourning, and she came to him, stroking him, holding him. The male let his muzzle slide against hers, releasing the moment, if a bit reluctantly, battling with the comfortability of her warmth and his burning interest in her story.

The wolfess felt possessed in her narration; her eyes unresponsive and oddly passive, in contrast to the emotion lacing her monotonous words. She finished uttering a line he wasn’t sure he quite understood, a line that lent her past a dissatisfied air. So serious too, so strange, that he could not find a single flicker of her soul in her face, but felt the shudder of it in the air. “There is darkness in the light, Noche.” With a short inhale, he bent forward, but before he could respond, eager to diminish the sudden flare of uncertainty in her gaze, when he caught the scent of another wolf.

The strength of it was potent enough that Noche tore his attentively tilted head from its position towards Miya, neck fur rising on a dime as instinct swept through him. He watched the other wolf approach, the dark head a pendulum swinging low between two powerful shoulders, face inclined towards them and, closer still, the arched eyebrows. The appraisal captured Noche hastening to lower his defenses, though he stayed close to Miya’s side. His fur was flat by the time the other wolf began speaking, the ebony mass sporting a friendly, borderline dangerous, smile.

Noche felt a grin on his maw at the humor of this wolf, Serris, who claimed to be old but still slid with the grace of a king into his seat, his head raised in what could easily have been exaggerated regality in light of his casual words. Was this the wolf Miya had been coming to see? Though he’d heard no word on the Alpha, the pale gray male took a liking to him almost instantly, joking, “Don’t you have a pack to be running, though?” in response to the wolf’s use of his time. Lowering his head and tucking in his paws until he was in a crouched position, he continued, “My name is Ala Noche.” Would Miya do the same beside him?

[ooc]
it’s...so...lame...
I’m so sorry about the horrible wait on this post!
<3