nobody really cared, so it never really mattered. it never really mattered, so it never really happened
what's the point in fightin' for a happy ever after? the past keep's hauntin' the future i imagine
what's the point in fightin' for a happy ever after? the past keep's hauntin' the future i imagine
All he needs is the happiness with surprise that’s echoed back to him, but Sunjata can’t just let his feelings end there. No, he sends the majority of them over. All the things he can’t find the words to say. All the feelings that Nate sparks within him, the answer to a question of just how much Nate means to him, how much having his attention and affection means to him. Despite Nate’s attempts to slip into the instincts of the form, Sunjata knows it would demolish the attempts with everything he lets loose.
That’s fine, they’ve got time.
There’s a large paw that matches his own, lifting and pawing at his shoulder – and Sunjata slips into it – large head burrowing within Nate’s chest and neck, head nuzzling in close as a low hum of a purr tears from his throat. He doesn’t care how long it takes before Nate can recover, but Sunjata basks in the sensations that echo back. He lets it wash over him, even if it’s not as put together, not as clear, Sunjata can see it, and it’s far more than enough. When he says he’s not going anywhere, he hopes the sharing of his emotions regarding Nate in this moment squash any doubts.
The joke is met with a hum of a soft laugh from Sunjata’s end of the bond, his head pulling back a small amount, ears perked forward as his steel gaze – the same hue in this form – focus on Nate’s face. His rough tongue slips out, brushing along Nate’s cheek as he moves to fully stand. You think you’re ready? He replies, because Sunjata’s not quite ready yet, but willing to pretend for the sake of feigned confidence, something Nate would acutely feel as well. His heart still thunders in his chest, but he attempts to recover the best he can in the moments that span after, still close, still near.
His boxy head slips back toward Nate’s shoulder, pressing his forehead against it to push his fiancé a bit, before he’s slipping away – stretching out, body arcing and tail swaying along the sandy ground, claws digging into the dirt as his paws flex. And then he’s standing, looking over his shoulder toward Nate, all amusement and love glimmering within the bond, unwilling to turn it off but to leave it a simmer in the back of his mind. So like before, try to give into the instincts. He murmurs, voice almost a whisper through the bond as Sunjata sinks low to the ground, his hunting instincts kicking in as he goes to follow a scent on the wind, wondering if Nate can smell it too.
That’s fine, they’ve got time.
There’s a large paw that matches his own, lifting and pawing at his shoulder – and Sunjata slips into it – large head burrowing within Nate’s chest and neck, head nuzzling in close as a low hum of a purr tears from his throat. He doesn’t care how long it takes before Nate can recover, but Sunjata basks in the sensations that echo back. He lets it wash over him, even if it’s not as put together, not as clear, Sunjata can see it, and it’s far more than enough. When he says he’s not going anywhere, he hopes the sharing of his emotions regarding Nate in this moment squash any doubts.
The joke is met with a hum of a soft laugh from Sunjata’s end of the bond, his head pulling back a small amount, ears perked forward as his steel gaze – the same hue in this form – focus on Nate’s face. His rough tongue slips out, brushing along Nate’s cheek as he moves to fully stand. You think you’re ready? He replies, because Sunjata’s not quite ready yet, but willing to pretend for the sake of feigned confidence, something Nate would acutely feel as well. His heart still thunders in his chest, but he attempts to recover the best he can in the moments that span after, still close, still near.
His boxy head slips back toward Nate’s shoulder, pressing his forehead against it to push his fiancé a bit, before he’s slipping away – stretching out, body arcing and tail swaying along the sandy ground, claws digging into the dirt as his paws flex. And then he’s standing, looking over his shoulder toward Nate, all amusement and love glimmering within the bond, unwilling to turn it off but to leave it a simmer in the back of his mind. So like before, try to give into the instincts. He murmurs, voice almost a whisper through the bond as Sunjata sinks low to the ground, his hunting instincts kicking in as he goes to follow a scent on the wind, wondering if Nate can smell it too.
SUNJATA
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
