Her voice is a fearless proclamation of protection
She lives what's within her out loud
She lives what's within her out loud
The Attuned bond is a gift in many ways, allowing a level of honesty that otherwise would not be found in the Valkyrie. Without the available focus to filter out her own emotions, there is only a deep abiding pool of girlish delight, filled with bright undercurrents of mischief and abiding happiness that blinds her to the difficulties of the world at large. And love, love that is present everywhere you turn. Shades and variations that color every moment.
It overwhelms her for a moment at Wessex’s words, a gravity she didn’t expect pulling her down with how badly she wants them to be true. For the Wraith to be happy. Perhaps even for Ru to be the one to be the cause for it. It blindsides her into temporary stunned silence. The paw at her face has her blinking, breaking, and fondness spills forth. As you wish, she vows. And then she dives forward, keeping her maw closed as she jabs her nose into the soft throat below her, thrashing in a feigned final blow as she growls playfully.
Then she flops sideways, sprawled languorously, large paws pushing idly at Wessex’s dark shoulder. I wish we could just stay here for a while. There is no melancholy to her tone yet, just a peaceful, wistful sigh of desire. ‘Forever’ lingers on the tongue, but she doesn’t say it. It’s too much a fantasy even for her. Too impossible. Her dark tipped tail flicks lazily in the dry leaves, content to sprawl and pretend they both have nowhere else to be.
It overwhelms her for a moment at Wessex’s words, a gravity she didn’t expect pulling her down with how badly she wants them to be true. For the Wraith to be happy. Perhaps even for Ru to be the one to be the cause for it. It blindsides her into temporary stunned silence. The paw at her face has her blinking, breaking, and fondness spills forth. As you wish, she vows. And then she dives forward, keeping her maw closed as she jabs her nose into the soft throat below her, thrashing in a feigned final blow as she growls playfully.
Then she flops sideways, sprawled languorously, large paws pushing idly at Wessex’s dark shoulder. I wish we could just stay here for a while. There is no melancholy to her tone yet, just a peaceful, wistful sigh of desire. ‘Forever’ lingers on the tongue, but she doesn’t say it. It’s too much a fantasy even for her. Too impossible. Her dark tipped tail flicks lazily in the dry leaves, content to sprawl and pretend they both have nowhere else to be.
