King Elk Forest drive my heart into the night

<3!

 

Ghost was not sure if he found her courage to be commendable or foolish. Still, despite his warnings she did not run. His ears slicked back to rest atop his skull at half mast, eyes frantically searching the gnarled roots though what he expected to see, what he expected to find was unknown. He saw it for what it was: roots, and he was not sure how to handle this...to handle her. He'd given his warning and she had not fled as many others would have. He could hear her move closer, and his docked tail gave a sharp sweep — an agitated movement. It did not have the same effect of a full tail, but it would be enough to convey. Upper lip curled back from his teeth — though if the display was for her protection or his own he could not say.

Without The Officer's commands The Ghost was a loose cannon. A mad dog without it's owner: the one pulling the strings and simultaneously the one holding the leash. He glimpsed at her from the corner of his eye, assuaged by the submission that she showed him but as to if it would be enough to appease him he didn't know. Ghost did not know who he was without The Officer. He did not know how he would react outside of a conducted mission, or how he would react without The Officer telling him. He remained quiet as she made her observations, looking away from her sharply. Sad? Was he? Maybe. He was lost and he regretted The Officer's death as sick as he knew it was. Some part of Ghost realized The Officer had been a monster to destroy him before he'd even had the chance to live. To rebuild him until he was the loyal guard and attack dog that he was. Domesticated. Feral and lethal, certainly, but in this extent domesticated. Complacent to his master's commands because he only wanted to please, because it was what had been expected of him, because he'd been stolen away before he knew anything else.

“I don't know,” He told her, daring to look at her again, studying her feminine features again, more openly. “Am I going to hurt you?” A test of his own. Would she command him? He needed her to tell him. He was curious as to if she could take possession of his leash, if she had what it took to be his master...mistress, perhaps?, or if her courage would crumble to ashes at the challenge he posed. He was too damaged to be anything else, too dependent on being told what he would do, but as long as he wasn't asked to kidnap children he would be loyal, he would be complacent. All she needed to do was tell him that he wouldn't hurt her and he wouldn't. The shift of power would be monumental for she gave the impression that he held it. He was powerful but he was not a wielder of power — he was only it's weapon. She was courageous but did that mean she could deal with him? If he shifted that power — his loyalty — to her could she handle him? Could she bear the responsibility he posed. He would follow her, to the end of the line, a body guard, a companion, but a responsibility. It was not simple. It would not be easy.

“You can still walk away.” He warned simply; before it was too late, but of course, she had yet to respond and he was still lost. Perhaps she did not have it in her to become his new commander, perhaps she did not even want it. He didn't know, but watched her with a mixture of scrutiny and curiosity all the same, waiting.