Ten - Mistletoe's Beloved - Glorall
Father of Levi, Enya, and Ravenna
The one thing about his bond with Mistletoe was that he knew how far she was, step by step, by the pull and groan of his soul. It screamed at her when he grew too far away for he had become used to her presence. He craved her touch, each gentle wag of her tail and the way her eyes brightened when he brought her gifts. Before her he had been a shadow of himself; wild and feral even with Natu guiding him. A sisterly bond was not the same thing as the bond of both his soul and his heart, and in Warlow's case they were both tied together. He could never have been one of those wolves who had been soulbound to one and heartsick for another. If Mistletoe had had a mate before him and they had imprinted it likely would have been a very rough time for the other male, for Warlow would never give up. As it was luck was in their favor the day they both spotted the carrion birds.
At his howl he can feel the bond between them intensify as she draws ever nearer and his heart thumps hard in his chest repeatedly. Warlow waits with his ears pricked and his paws shuffled forward without him even realizing it, eager to meet up with her and spend the day pressed against her side. As fall drew to a close and winter appeared over the horizon he was growing ever possessive once more, unable to let her go for long periods of time. The idea of another male snatching her up, of harming or touching her (and of even talking to her) sent him into fits of growls on his own and now he would be careful to keep her close by.
She appears then, her small svelte frame moving towards his and Warlow is impatient. He moves to meet her even as he rumbles a greeting while she presses her maw into his. His nose slides down her cheek into the fur at her neck, both rubbing his cheek on her and inhaling her.
"I have learned only that I missed you, Mistle," he murmurs and with a possessive growl he presses closer to her, wrapping his jaw around her shoulder in a wolf hug before pulling back, remaining so their breath mixed and noses brushed. "But also that our son has found his own imprint in Taviora."
SORCHA - SEVEN -SPIRANE
NO HEART - NO SOUL