Ankyra Sound it feels like you're with your father in the place you love

The ghost had been intent on relaxing with his children that day. He’d rounded them up and played with each of them before feeling himself overcome by a deep tiredness. Sprawled out on his side, legs stretched, the mercenary’s eyes fluttered from open to close as he watched the pups play with each other. Even when the howl of his mate drifted over the sound, he did not hear her. There was a peaceful melancholy that had gripped him in jagged claws. In all his life, Kierkegaard did not imagine that he would have spent that time with his own offspring. As he watched Raleska tumble over her brother, a faint smile curled his dark features and he breathed a sigh in knowing that they were secure there. The adopted pup was clutched closely to the warmth of his body in Caiaphas’ absence, only for the warmth that he could provide. The young boy’s whimpering was the only thing holding him from sleep.

It was when he heard the hurried pace of his mate that the argent brute rose from his sprawled state and looked around with wild, molten eyes. Her breathing was urgent, and so Kierkegaard propped himself up on his elbows and blinked at her with concern etched across his harsh features. She did not waste time in scooping their children up and nipping at them sharply to move – to flee – and so the ghostly figure grunted as he rose to his paws and stood protectively over Svalinn. The glint in his gaze was wrought with bewilderment, but he did not utter a word. The ragged hound moved to herd his pups into a neat little line and began pressing them out into the world with a rough shove of his nose.