IP: 108.245.133.46
Posted on February 22, 2014 at 03:03:06 AM by WARLOW
male | six years old | mated to none | imprinted on Mistletoe His neurotic ways are confusing to her he can tell and as he sinks into her fur, his tension draining away by the second, he recognizes the hesitancy in her body. For once Warlow is hesitant himself. He has never worried about making another happy. Never worried about doing or saying the right thing. All Warlow has ever worried about was having food in his belly and tracing down his sister with her wanderlust. Now things have changed. Even as his mind grudgingly accepts that his life is no longer about him or his fruitless endeavors he recognizes that Mistletoe is his soulkeeper. No longer will he follow after his sister, purposeless. He would follow Mistletoe to the ends of the world and willingly jump into the flames that might linger there so long as he was surrounded by her. In the mere seconds that all this flashed through his mind he grew tense again. He fully expected her to grab his jugular and have done with him. The mere idea that she might push him away in disgust nearly drove him into a crazed frenzy once more. His muscles began to twitch as his thoughts spiraled ever downward. And then something blessed. Mistletoe placed her small head beneath his and nuzzled him back. A groan rolled through his chest and throat, almost akin to a purr as satisfaction soothed his muscles and he relaxed into her. She. Was. His. When she pulls her head away he pulls back as well to reveal a bright grin in response to her words. Later he would gripe to himself about how idiotic he acted - how foolish she might think him. Later he would do things he had never done before. Doubt himself. Again Warlow tilts his head as she speaks, noting the sad cadence to her beautiful voice. He is angry again, this time at himself. That he could make her doubt him within moments of their connection. But he is assuaged because despite her hurt she still buried her face into HIS fur. No one elses. "I was out scouting and caught your scent trail when I was checking out what was supposed to be a free meal. Damn birds are liars." He grimaced at the thought and then paused, listening to her once more. Slowly he stepped towards her again and rubbed his cheek against her's reveling in the sensation before pulling back once more to look into her green eyes. "Mistle.... I hope that I can call you Mistle," a coaxing smile, "I am, ummm, unused to closeness. With anyone. It is strange for me and I was taken by surprise. I am not angry with you. In fact I am strangely happy." Now, Warlow, he thinks to himself. See to her needs! "What brings you here? Do you live here?" Wolf Stock: HotNStock @ Deviantart
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