Stir up the fire, and breath out the pain.
#4
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Word Count » 511

Ever since he had come back from his assignment away from Salsola, he had made sure to not go too far away from his cherub, being sure to keep as near to him as he dared without seeming like he was suffocating the smaller male. The scarred brute wandered around the lands that he called home, reinstating the scent of his home pack lands on his fur, letting the scent wash over him with its delicate grace. Breathing in deeply, he smelled something…no…someone and he turned his attention towards where the scent was coming from. The arbiter’s hackles rose, his ears pinning themselves as he started to take an easy lope towards just the one male that he knew about that was there. But then as he drew closer, another smell, the smell that he knew he himself was infiltrated with. His cherub was there, his master, the one male besides the alphas of course that could rein him in with a simple word. And as much as perhaps those above might not want to know it, he would give everything for his master, and would abandon his post if it meant protecting his master and going with him. But so far he hadn’t had to test that so perhaps it was for the best that he never voiced such opinions. The ex-slave came towards him but what set him off was what he heard and what he perceived to be a danger to his love.


He gave a snarl, his mind flickering to his time in captivity, all the horrendous things he had to do, all the atrocities he had been forced to commit, and all the people were lost to him because of that and just thinking about his master being one of the lost was too much for him. Giving a growl that was very agitated and borderline feral, he seemed to be on the verge of a transformation as he came towards the two, standing behind the intruder, his vision imagining the other bloody, groveling at their feet. His motions had been all but silent, the large and imposing man baring his teeth at him. ”You even think about laying a hand on him you will be dead before you could touch him,” he said lowly, dangerously. Usually he was a fairly even-keeled kind of guy, at least he liked to think so, but he didn’t much care to have his master threatened in front of him. But he never told his cherub to leave. To do that would be to say that he didn’t think that Bastion could handle it and he had a feeling that the smaller male had something in mind already. ”Master what do you want done with him?” He asked him lowly, his voice a growl, his fur bristling with annoyance and barely-contained danger and violence. He was threatening to become unraveled around the edges with the thoughts running through his mind, his gaze slipping over the male’s shoulder towards Bastion every now and then to see the look on his face.

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