If you closed your eyes… and tuned in to the world without your sight… what would you hear?

The babbling water of the river as it runs down stream, the soft fluttering of a bird’s wings above your head, or the subtle crunch of snow beneath someone’s paws. The rough shake of her head rustles in the mid-distance and he turns his head to welcome her arrival. Deadened eyes of molten copper and gold blink at her paws though his ears twitch expectantly for her to come closer.

As Siren makes her approach she confronts him on being so far from their pack. Her words are broken as much as her psyche; but isn’t everyone broken in their own way? He does not mind how she speaks so much anymore and has gotten accustomed to her particular quirks the longer he has been around her. It’s the most time he has spent with anyone in a very long time.

He turns completely now and follows her scent to close the space between them. His muzzle reaches out to touch the side of her own, having to crane his neck downward due to her miniscule size in comparison, and so he greets her this way. Whether it is mutual or not he has created a bond with the demoness that is unlike most others; it is not entirely love nor is it unmatched like an imprint, but perhaps out of necessity. ”I… I’m not sure,” he confesses. ”I needed to know that I could make it... in case we fail.” His face still wavers close to her own, though higher, as he expresses concern for their cause. He did not care by what means they fixed his eyesight but there was the chance that they could find no solution - and that bothered him more than anything.