Angels on the moon

Ignore his posting order, he is just going to sit there,

Ferdie sat a far distance off, stoic, Paws in front tail flat behind him, he stared at Nightingale down his muzzle, he had done his best to prepare her, but perhaps he had left the most important part of her training out. A spar. His heart ached, the male counted his breaths keeping everything inside him, his gnawing hunger faded as his emotional turmoil jumped up another notch, his pelt dull and lacking luster his body thin and less like a warrior now.

Her song reached his ears and though he wanted nothing more then to join her song, for he loved to sing as well he did not. His heart was to heavy. More then just this weighed upon his heart. He didn't move a muscle perhaps frozen in time his thoughts his own.

His square posture as he sat unmoving did not invite conversation or welcome company.