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Although he wished it could have been otherwise, animals overall were not as fond of him as he was of them. Pandemic lacked his father's—perhaps even his sister’s, too—touch with animals. He suspected the dark, fierce gift bestowed upon the young man by the King of Thorns succumbed out of necessity alone. The dark pelted D’Angelo, like his father, had size and raw strength others could only imagine, and with his weight and sureness in the hands that held the reins, Black had quickly learned that there were times where the best alternative by far was to fall back into line. But there was no affection there, as moon-shaded eyes had observed between the girl and her filly.
Blackened ears turned to adore the softness of his sibling’s reaction, and nerves immediately relaxed. It had never been necessary to fret about. Her brother’s eyes did not pursuit a glimpse of the small feline. He’d rather look at the young woman before her night and day without pause. When unique shades of fresh leaves rose to meet ashen grey along with her vocal appreciation, a rumble rose deep from his throat. It was enough. He didn’t need more than for her to be happy.
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