~ where innocences burn in flames.
The darkness consumes him as he closes his glacial eyes, a breath escapes from between parted whiskered lips. There is just the ocean as it laps against his body and the sound of the surf as it crashes into each other. He is unaware of even the approach of hooves in the sand until they halt near to him and soon their is warmth. Her scent floods into his nostrils, and she wraps her neck around his. Her touch is soft and gentle, and his skin yearns to feel her against him. "Ysabel," he chokes out.
But she does not hesitate to deliver her news. Im sorry. Sigurdr and Isabel have been taken to the Lagoon. Her words are a crushing weight, and he struggles to comprehend what she speaks of. Sigurdr.. Isabel.. both have been taken! He can feel the anguish and the anger grow and seethe within his chest. The Lagoon had dared to step their fucking hooves on his land. "What?" he chokes out, as he tries to lift his head but the strength escapes him. "They will pay for this," he groans as he lays his head into the sand. The fears gallop wildly in his head. What would happen to them? Would Cullen dare to harm them? Anger boils beneath his smoky hide, if he touches a hair on either of them... He would kill him.
He can feel the gentle sobs as she presses herself into him and his heart aches. He lifts his head from the sand, pebbles cling to his face and unkempt mane. "Ysabel, I will bring them home. Please, don't cry drottningin mín," his words leave his lips as a whisper, meant only for her ears. He pushes himself up from the ground, and invites her to lie near to him. He wishes to wrap his head over her withers, and to feel her warmth against him.
Translation:
drottningin mín: my queen
Björn - Icelandic mutt - 10 years old - Grullo Sabino
Bera Konung of the Ridge