SuNjATA
the flood
The hug is brief, and that’s probably for the best – before anyone can walk in and perhaps get the wrong idea. And so he’s grateful for that tiny mercy, before he’s leading her to a quieter room, shifting into his panther form and settling along the floor. She grabs at his tail, and he scoots himself a bit closer, extending out his back feet while he listens, whiskers twitching here and there. But he keeps his tail even, gentle, letting her mess with it as much as she wishes to.
And at the mention of being overwhelmed, he nods his head in agreement, unable to say anything but to just sit there and let himself be her board to sound off of. A part of him wants to ask how Roana had done it, being alone and raising the boys, but it’s perhaps a bit different having raised them versus taking care of them. And with it, he only tilts his head. At the mention of Cera dying, his whiskers twitch. Had that been the man he had thrown out into the LongNight winds? Into the snow?
A purr erupts at Loren’s iteration from her, something akin to a feline chuckle as he nods in agreement, until she explains that she just wants to be able to feel them, process them, and get better. It isn’t healthy, she’s right, and he knows this intimately well with being unable to deal with his own feelings until they explode. So he edges toward her, head aiming to bump against her hand briefly as he tries to give her as much attention as he can in this form, as much agreement, before he pulls away and shifts back into himself, spread out along the ground on his back, knees raised and hands behind his head.
“You’re right.” He tells her, head angling to look at her with his steel gaze. “You’re allowed to be upset for as long as you want. I'm sorry that it's all happened so quickly without giving you a chance to deal with it.” Because gods knew he was still upset over what had happened to him. And it had been almost a decade. And he had also been one of those to erupt on her, though he pertains that to the drinking and the hangover mostly. Trying to shift some of the blame.
And at the mention of being overwhelmed, he nods his head in agreement, unable to say anything but to just sit there and let himself be her board to sound off of. A part of him wants to ask how Roana had done it, being alone and raising the boys, but it’s perhaps a bit different having raised them versus taking care of them. And with it, he only tilts his head. At the mention of Cera dying, his whiskers twitch. Had that been the man he had thrown out into the LongNight winds? Into the snow?
A purr erupts at Loren’s iteration from her, something akin to a feline chuckle as he nods in agreement, until she explains that she just wants to be able to feel them, process them, and get better. It isn’t healthy, she’s right, and he knows this intimately well with being unable to deal with his own feelings until they explode. So he edges toward her, head aiming to bump against her hand briefly as he tries to give her as much attention as he can in this form, as much agreement, before he pulls away and shifts back into himself, spread out along the ground on his back, knees raised and hands behind his head.
“You’re right.” He tells her, head angling to look at her with his steel gaze. “You’re allowed to be upset for as long as you want. I'm sorry that it's all happened so quickly without giving you a chance to deal with it.” Because gods knew he was still upset over what had happened to him. And it had been almost a decade. And he had also been one of those to erupt on her, though he pertains that to the drinking and the hangover mostly. Trying to shift some of the blame.
ain't no rest for the wicked
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.
