but the wolf is always there, even when i can't see it
He certainly can’t be mistaken, not with the pale hair that always stuck out like a sore thumb – the teasing and jokes he’d give Aamu about covering his hair in charcoal if only so he’d blend into the surroundings more. Unless, of course, the Voice made him tall enough that it could be mistaken for moonlight.
But those were old jokes now. They were old now. And Varus hasn’t seen someone familiar to him in what thankfully only feels like a few months, let alone the centuries it’s truly been.
So the smile grows, brightens, as the step is taken toward perhaps his oldest friend now, watching as Aamu bridges the distance, hears the inelegant gurgle that leaves the other Ascended, emitting a surprisingly bright and relieved laugh from Varus, when arms are slung around him.
It’s been so long, and he can only offer half a hug as his one arm wraps around the other Ascended, tightly, hand balled into a fist that presses against his friend’s shoulder as he presses his face into Aamu’s own shoulder. “Aamu.” He breathes it like a prayer, letting the hug linger as long as possible, before that hand balled into a fist rises and falls back against the other Ascended’s shoulder, flattening out in a smack.
It isn’t like any of them would really feel it if it was a hard slap.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore fucking eyes.” He manages through a somewhat choked up laugh, pulling away but keeping his arm around him. “Or is it old eyes?” He manages a playfully crooked smile, relief blooming in the pale blues of his eyes.
But those were old jokes now. They were old now. And Varus hasn’t seen someone familiar to him in what thankfully only feels like a few months, let alone the centuries it’s truly been.
So the smile grows, brightens, as the step is taken toward perhaps his oldest friend now, watching as Aamu bridges the distance, hears the inelegant gurgle that leaves the other Ascended, emitting a surprisingly bright and relieved laugh from Varus, when arms are slung around him.
It’s been so long, and he can only offer half a hug as his one arm wraps around the other Ascended, tightly, hand balled into a fist that presses against his friend’s shoulder as he presses his face into Aamu’s own shoulder. “Aamu.” He breathes it like a prayer, letting the hug linger as long as possible, before that hand balled into a fist rises and falls back against the other Ascended’s shoulder, flattening out in a smack.
It isn’t like any of them would really feel it if it was a hard slap.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore fucking eyes.” He manages through a somewhat choked up laugh, pulling away but keeping his arm around him. “Or is it old eyes?” He manages a playfully crooked smile, relief blooming in the pale blues of his eyes.
VARUS
