:WYRM:
He is not, nor has he ever been, outwardly affectionate. Blame it on his family. Wyrm has survived for long enough on thrills and utter dominance - never once seeing the benefits of tenderness, affection, or filial companionship. But those things come for all of us in the end, even to those who liken themselves to mere creatures and nothing else. Copulation, the art of attraction, love - all just words until he’d seen her last. His sire had been enough reason to keep himself as distant from others as he could; there was no doubting that without control, Wyrm was dangerous. But there was something in the shape of Heartfire’s face, the defiance always in her eyes, her strange ability to be ancient and yet young.
It had broken him.
Her sigh is almost lost to him - carried away in the whispers of the trees that surround them. But his gifted ears are slowly sharpening enough now to hear the very heart within her, so he doesn’t miss it. Like an eggshell slowly being forced apart, the restrictions against him are withering with each passing hour. Her voice is a warm cadence that matches the pulse of the natural world around him, keen and then soothing. It lulls him to the point of becoming totally immobile, the crisp note of each footfall that brings her nearer to him like the jolt of a cymbal. They are clashing together, her voice and her steps, and he feels so very, very overwhelmed.
He moves much slower this time.
A faint clicking sound travels the length of his throat, unnatural and unexpected. His eyes, curious enough as they are, disappear behind weakly fluttering lids while his neck curves gently, each muscle straining beneath soft, emerald fur. Heartfire is so near to him now that it’s hard to only let his nose, wide and inhaling deeply, trail lightly over her cheek where the dust motes from earlier have settled. His lips part and a rattling breath spills over her tender skin while the moment draws out - ending with the sharp snap of his teeth closing together. “Still smelly.” He concludes.
“Tell me, Heartfire,” He whispers, allowing his lips to just briefly trace the line of her jaw. A light touch with the tip of his incisors, “where have you been?” - and then he pulls away. He doesn’t know, of course. He never could, not even if he wanted to. Not now … but the Heartfire he knows wouldn’t have put up with his attitude for all of the attention in the world. There must be a means to an end here. “I’ve missed you.” He tells her.
And then he moves away, continuing his journey but not without a cursory glance back for her to follow. They would have to walk and talk now, standing still seemed to cause too much trouble.
OOC: Word overload, sorry :/