leaned my hands on the old cold sand

Levent Kartal · 03-23-2012, 01:18 PM

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Lev is a playerrrrr.

The tomcat was perplexed by the affections of the stranger, used to hiding behind his luperci companion when it came to meeting others. No one could doubt the tenderness in her green eyes, however, and his tail swayed uncertainly behind him as he glanced at the grey kitten. He was spared having to answer the other’s reassurance, however, by Levent’s approach—by the approach of someone capable of such tenderness when he wanted to be.

The Turkish luperci’s teasing grin faded when the other pulled the kitten close and stammered out her explanation. A gentle and more genuine smile replaced his usual overly-amiable expression as he nodded. “I would have thought the same, sevgili,” he assured her, and his hackles stiffened briefly as he thought back to the day he’d found the white tom, cowering under the stares and descriptive threats of the men who’d found him. “As it happens, Wilson and I have been friends since we were boys.”

He paused, wondering what to say next, knowing there would be little to talk about unless the petite woman trusted him. In the meantime, however, he shrugged a shoulder and caused the white feline to adjust his balance. “Cat got your tongue, arkadaş?”

“Sod off, that joke isn’t funny anymore,” Wilson retorted. He aimed a cuff at the wolf’s dark ear but relaxed shortly after, his tail dancing down against the man’s pale cream chest.

Levent grinned broadly at that then glanced to the woman, executing an elaborate bow that had the feline scrambling for balance. “Benim adım Levent Kartal,” he introduced as the tomcat, resigned, snorted and rolled his eyes. “And you know Wilson. What is your name, benim yeşil gözlü bayan?”

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