Noah Olson Memories sweet whispers are all that we'll have left So fall into these arms tonight and share this one last breath
His worry increased as he approached her. Despite his grunting and attempt to make the woman move, she merely reached a hand out toward him and spoke. He grunted, louder, the intensity increasing as he leapt forward slightly and pounded front hooves in the snow before her. He did not understand why her own panic was not rising to the surface. Did she not know that this cold, this snow, this ice, could take her life in mere seconds? He grunted again, swinging his head and shaking his massive neck. She needed to follow him. He tried to reach out towards her mentally, over the attuned bond, but only silence filled his mind. She was not a shifter. After what seemed like an eternity, the woman did finally take a step in the direction Noah intended. He bellowed his delight and moved up to her, pressing his shoulder against her body, his massive head and neck curling under a delicate arm. He intended to support her and guide her back to the safety of his city. The Citadel may be in crumbles compared to the glory it stood in mere weeks ago, but it was warm and safe and better than the tundra. He moved forward, then, continuing the woman would just walk with him as fast as she could manage. His head pounded in his chest, thinking of all the things that could go wrong in their travels. His eyes constantly moved around, ears rotating like satellite dishes upon his head. The cold was enough for them to worry about--they did not need a pack of wolves or a ursur to come bring their demise. Bring on the comets |
