Neverwinter Forest Children of the Firehawk

PERMISSION TO PP GIVEN :')

And those who would speak ill of their leader are unfit to follow. Vehemently, Tonravik lashed outward. He was wrong; she had not abandoned him, she had returned, and her words had been clear. Her heart beat was steady, smooth, thumpthump, thumpthump, and a foreleg wrapped around him to pull him to her breast, muzzle dipping to drape protectively over her throat as his ear cupped against the thick furs of her chest.

But he would hear it. He would hear its steady drumming. She could crush his head, here, but she did not, would not; she wanted him to listen. To know for certain. "I do not abandon. I was coming to you." There was no panic there, only certainty, and her heart, how it did not race as a liars would, would prove this. She had smelled him here, and had come to him now, the moment she had found him. The heartbeat was a soothing sound, and the witches heart beat stronger than any. She let him linger for a moment before releasing him and withdrawing. "Twice I was called to war, and twice, I have returned. I was here too short a time to call anyone to me, long ago, and now I am here again." Tonravik looked to him.