table © Alaine
ooc: BACK *nom*
He was growing more and more aware of how warm Sepirah felt against his side, and how he could feel her breath - The soft inhale and exhale, the rising of ribcage against him, her soft and silky ebony fur brushing against his own. But concentrating on that made the old feelings swell up, the feelings he didn't trust and couldn't name - The building of a fire in one's belly, the thick tar-oozing of heated blood in his veins. Caillen had no name for desire, but he had abandoned all joy in it a fair while ago. Desire led only to pain, nothing more, just as pretty ladies led only to wickedness.
But Sepirah didn't seem wicked. She truly didn't. Confused by these mixed messages in his brain, the slate wolfdog was jolted back to attention at her sigh and shake of pretty head. When sitting, her long ears reached his jaw, and so the youth had to peer down at her so that sky-blue eyes could evaluate her response. In fact, her reply was so seemingly honest that the boy could find no fault with it. He blinked, but Sepirah had not finished talking, and the optical movement was the only chance he got to reply before she continued.
He smiled quickly at the first part of her statement about not being able to chase him away. It was a reaction the boy had hoped to perfect, relying on his intimidating size as he did, but little did she know of his utter lack of fighting skills. If she'd attempted to, Sepirah would have been able to chase off the confused and exhausted wreck of a creature he'd been with very little effort at all on her behalf. This thought, though, was quickly chased away by the latter of her statement, which took his weary mind a little longer to process. However, it was aided by her apparent embarrassment, into comprehension.
Girls seemed to like calling him handsome. Caillen had no idea why - He'd seen his spattered reflection in the water a hundred times, and never seen anything to admire. He was just... Caillen. Floppy-eared, goofy-smiling, too-tall Caillen. But that word 'handsome', it seemed to be something the female-types used when they wanted something, or when they could think of nothing else to say. The boy stared at Sepirah in bafflement, watching as she shook her head. Girls were so confusing! He had no idea what to make of this, but the silence was getting awkward, so he cleared his throat and attempted what he hoped would be a suitable reply. "Erm... T-thank you, you know, for... For not. Chasing me away, that is." A pause, in which a slight blush colored the exposed skin around his nose and inner ears. "You are very... Very p-pretty." And she was, by golly. He'd never seen such exotic and delightful features before.
Speak think walk
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