Our skin gets thicker, living out in the snow
CREVAN
She’s the only one who knows the tread of his step, the glint in his eye. Crevan can’t hide anything from her, nor does he want to - Merida is his rock, an anchor to this tumultuous life he leads. His honesty towards her is expected and he gives it freely, especially as she twines between his sturdy forelegs and tempts him with heated kiss. All he wants is to bury her beneath the folds of his thick fur, to literally flop on top of the sly little vixen and drown her with his own affection, but Merida the fox’s quip about his absence suddenly sets Crevan’s mind to rights.
Damn was she distracting.
He sits when she does, mimicking the proud rise of her chest by puffing out his own. “The clown King named me his general,” The wolf starts, eyeing his accomplice with a dastardly handsome smirk, “so you best start respecting me. I outrank you now.” He growls playfully, lifting one creamy paw to bat at her head. It’s killing him, sitting here and talking to her about work when he’d much rather be burying the crook of his wet, brown nose into her familiar nape, but he settles nonetheless and tries his best to be serious, (if only for a minute.) “I … took a captive tonight. A mare from Tephra.” He admits with only a hint of hesitance.
He’s not sure how Merida will take the news. She doesn’t share in his affinity for chaos, and he certainly wouldn’t pull her into that world but … if they’re going to be together, together together, then she’s got to be aware of what he’s doing in his free time. “At the request of Queen Astarael; not by my own choice.” The wolf follows, as if this will smooth over the deed.
Still, he’s not a child. He knows the imminent danger that comes with something like kidnapping, and he accepts those consequences because he knows that whatever may come, it won’t be death. Only pain, and that feeling was fleeting.
“Does this … upset you?” He tests, every jovial line in his face softening to give him a careful, grave sort of look. Forget the king and his wench, forget the prisoner, forget this place - his steady, nightlock eyes are locked onto her fiery red ones while they search for truth; her answer is his guide and law now.
@[Merida] not where I was expecting it to go but here it is, I hope it's alright <3