Tithe

Each step was still a bit painful as he padded, and bled, his way from Taviora. His beathing was deep and shallow, quivering slightly, the only sign that he was actually in pain. Everything told him to shove it aside, appear and be strong. When an antler went through his chest and each step sent an annoying lance of pain through his front limbs, it was hard to keep from hissing quietly in his solitary venture. When he stepped into Spirane his felt the sense of comfort that came with the familiarity of the mountains. Starting to simply follow habit he made his way to the den he had dug for himself.

Stepping into the spacious, partial rock and partial earthen cave of a den the knight panted happily and flopped onto his side. Relief of taking the weight off his wound was incredible and he stretched his long limbs, allowing himself a groan of twinging pain and pleasure as his muscles moved without resistance. Closing his eyes one paw reached out and prodded at the deep knuckle bones he had continued to save and lick at, cleaning them of any flesh that might begin to decay. With his eyes closed and the pad of his paw clenching and unclenching gentle on his toy, Tithe also allowed his mind to stray.

Life had taken an interesting turn for him in the peaks of the mountains. He felt comfortable here, the closest he had ever come to call home. But some things still did not fit within him perfectly. Under the reign of Daenerys he had found some to save him, ease his soul and let him begin to build a life he could be proud of. When Roman ascended to rule the knight was taken off balance and questioned where his loyalties stood. His love for the fallen queen bleed as strong and as true as the wound on his chest. But so did his loyalty to the pack he had pledged himself to as a whole. Deep within the man, he could not deny that the grating voice of his mother still screamed at him, still fanned a fire of ambition. Iron grey eyes opened and shined with the pain of his wound and in his heart. He knew he had the drive, and the desire. But for what? Tithe bared his teeth against himself and pulled the bones closer to himself, trying to pull a puppy-ish innocence back to himself.

He rubbed the side of his face in the soft earth of his den. Pack life aside, alone in his den he let his mind shift to the other topic he worked hard to distract himself from. He had a system: when he did not want to think about her he thought about his pack; when he did not want to think about his pack he thought about her. Pandora His heart clenched and his paw tightened on the bones. She was so beautiful, and he yearned to be so close to her. A feeling he had never felt before. When they had first met she had asked if he would betray his queen for her. To this day he could not find the answer that would be true. He whined softly, hoping he would never have to make that choice. Even now he had to fight two equal and opposing forces within him. A bone and soul deep desire, need, to be with her. Every time he saw her all he wanted to do was bury his nose in her golden fur and breath in her scent. Become one with her and promise her he would never leave her side. Swear to her he would be forever loyal to her. Loyalty, was all he could hope to give. At the same time, he was compelled to stay away. He knew her own desire to deny him. She wanted to break their bond and be free of his presence and of the thoughts he stirred in her. Another whine, high and starting in his head disturbed the silence in his large den. He squeezed his eyes closed against the thoughts that plagued him. She was his soul, a soul that made his heart beat faster, but if she wanted him to keep his distance and pretend he was nothing that is exactly what he would do for her. Tithe carefully moved onto his back and stared at the high ceiling of the den. His desire was to have someone come to share the space in his den.

Bats. He thought, quirking his head at the nooks and crannies of earth and rock. Bats would make this cave almost like home.