It's Not Goodbye Forever

Noss · 03-10-2011, 10:43 PM

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Awwwww Strel's such a cutie-wootie! XD *runs for fear of projectile pins*

"I weep for the loss of your cabbage patch," Noss said back, his own eye roll present as their familiar speech patterns took hold. He would miss it dearly, their bantering. It felt distinctly of comfort and home. His eyebrows raised high, though, when Strel threatened to tie him to the fence. "Kinky," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "You trying to tell me you want a parting gift?"

Noss's first impression of where the conversation was going to turn was that it would be as it always had been when they spoke. He didn't expect Strel to take his time to measure his words instead of firing a comeback, although he did expect to be made fun of just a little. He grimaced at the thought of being used as a pin cushion. "'Little'? And I don't care how small those needles are; no," he intoned, a light chuckle in his voice. And then Strel completely took him by surprise. He admitted to his own feelings without Noss having to prod or force it out of him. For a moment Noss thought that perhaps he was being played with, but then realized that Strel wasn't like that; wasn't as cruel as to play cat and mouse at such a time. He was so startled into shock that, after a moment of standing with his ears straight up, he gently turned Strel by the shoulder and very quickly leaned forward, stealing a kiss, the tips of theirs noses brushing. Strel and he had been far more intimate than such a simple gesture, but it was just the opposite for Noss. He had deliberatly refrained from kissing Strel their first night because he was a virtual stranger; because their feelings had meant nothing to one another. But after that night--a chance encounter in a crumbling city--everything had changed. Even Noss's actions seemed almost dictated by Strel's words and proceedings; he was always pulled into that pace. And so it happened again, then, when Noss leaned in for that kiss, admittedly taking advantage of a rare moment of openness. He couldn't explain it to himself or anyone else, nor did he care to. It just was.

"And 'maybe' I'd miss you, too," Noss said, humor heavy in his voice. He had no doubt that Strel knew just how strong Noss's own resolve was, and that his words were far more solid that he let them on to be. He looked into the lavender eyes of Strel, imprinting their color to memory so that he may have incentive to hurry their trip all the more. Love was such a strange, cruel thing. It messed one up inside--turned them upside down and all around--and left them like a storm leaves a disaster in its wake. It made one feel things that they never wanted or thought they would. It made one weak, strong, or even impossibly happy. It was often accounted for differently by each wolf in ways that made it almost impossible to understand. Such frivolous descriptions Noss had once jeered and scoffed at; he was a warrior, not to be trifled with. And then he met Strelein. There was always the 'and then'. But did he mind? Not in the least, once he'd gotten used to the idea. Because it was that simple.

Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.

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