// tell me what you know, i'm in deeper than i've ever been
i will never grow, while this anchor is chained to my feet //
i will never grow, while this anchor is chained to my feet //
Don’t be. He rumbles back, paired with a distinctly canine whine that slips from his maw. His ears still remain flat, but they perk up a bit, trying to soothe Nate’s own sadness. It wasn’t his fault, if only he could show him. And he wonders, perhaps, if he can send that chilling glimpse through the bond enough to try and get his point across, without dwelling too far into the details, without bringing that cold fear back.
There’s a quiet whine that slips from him again, the tensing of his joints, and even as his husband tells him to take his time… Well, again it’s like the bandaid being ripped off, better to do it now than dwell on it. Okay. He says instead, quiet and cold, dreading the shift back. But he manages it, with nothing short of sharp pain and the melding and adjusting of bone again and again, and by the end of it he sits on the bed with Nate — Jaw red and puffing up along his neck, steel that aims to meet electric blues, a paw turned hand that reaches for Nate’s, shaking and trembling as it holds onto him.
But the whole shifting back and forth and pain in his jaw has him exhausted, pained, scared, and so the Attuned edges forward just enough to lean into Nate, to press his forehead against the Ascended’s chest, regaining his breath. I saw him again. He sends down the bond, sure Nate would know whom he meant, sure that Nate would understand the distraction.
There’s a quiet whine that slips from him again, the tensing of his joints, and even as his husband tells him to take his time… Well, again it’s like the bandaid being ripped off, better to do it now than dwell on it. Okay. He says instead, quiet and cold, dreading the shift back. But he manages it, with nothing short of sharp pain and the melding and adjusting of bone again and again, and by the end of it he sits on the bed with Nate — Jaw red and puffing up along his neck, steel that aims to meet electric blues, a paw turned hand that reaches for Nate’s, shaking and trembling as it holds onto him.
But the whole shifting back and forth and pain in his jaw has him exhausted, pained, scared, and so the Attuned edges forward just enough to lean into Nate, to press his forehead against the Ascended’s chest, regaining his breath. I saw him again. He sends down the bond, sure Nate would know whom he meant, sure that Nate would understand the distraction.
i settled my grievance by crafting a mask, and i never looked back
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.
