He bent to scratch his foreleg, rubbing both maw and ivories at his itching hide. Pale white meeting earthen bay in an attempt for relief. His winter coat was almost burdensome as he felt the presence of spring inching ever near. The air still cool and crisp, though signs of new life emerged in buds on boughs, in the to and fro flitting of birds. Pale green shoots would soon litter the clearing, the cold and damp would recede into the corners of the pine, waiting to emerge again next year. Soon the cool temperatures would turn to the tepid climate of spring. He would be thoroughly uncomfortable until he shed his long, wavy coat. It plagued him every year, while his extra layer was welcome in the freezing temperatures of winter, each spring he was done with the nonsense. Doubled up layers were useful and all, but only to an extent. Add to the fact that he had noticed as he aged that once the fur had set in full for the season, it began to wave and curl.
He snorted, lifting his brick colored dial. A coarse curtain of ebony tilting angled back down his neck. Dust and shadow, earth and bark, colors of soil and midnight. Morning rays shown through the pine maze, casting light to the gloom and promising a new day. The morning had started out as any other, until the placid setting was broken by a distinct outcry. An exclamation against the rising sun, beating into the air with conviction. A wail expressing pain, it promised blood, and his heart started at the sound. He knew her voice all too well, every chord of her melody, the key in which her words did sound. There were few reasons why she might sound as such, why she would even cry out to him. His moniker blasting against the clearing sky once, now twice, he had better hurry.
He didn’t know why she had gone here again, tracing her scent along the lichen to this spot, their spot. Remnants of the night smell now coated with birth scent, and sweat. He trampled the decaying leaves with his outsized daggers, finding for once how uncomfortable the situation made him. The thought had been enticing enough, wanting to be there, of course. Now in the middle of her labored breathing, her outcries, he found he didn’t know what to do with himself. Jade orbs fall over her frothy pelt, stalking first one way before another, whickers flowing from his maw at each step. How he could soothe her he didn’t know, what he should say he wasn’t sure. ”Engel I am here-I- I can’t say I’ve witnessed many births. None at all actually, what do I do?” Words of uncertainty fell before them, he had come to reassure her and fell short of how he might do that. Tramping a trench in the soil, before simply touching her neck. He wasn’t much help but it was all he could think to do.
Dutiful Soldier|Lieutenant of the Chamber