Gilded Bay it's a battle cry, it's a symphony

Fade with your post? ♥

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Breathing rapidly, Szymon flopped down beside the Shieldmaiden with a pleasurable groan. His ginger-laced tail flipped as he turned his head to catch her wry smile, and he pressed daringly forward. If she allowed it, his tongue would swipe her salt-and-sand dappled cheek. Though not a typically affectionate wolf, Szymon had grown accustomed to giving and receiving touch — and he liked Ragna. He was too proud to beg her to come with him to the bay, and he respected her pride too much to ask her to serve Skellige, who had laid claim upon the land once reigned over by her father. Every time they met was a gift that he could not afford to waste. The responsibilities of their respective packs, the distance, the weather — all of them laid a threat upon their visits. “You too,” he said simply, mindful of the time he’d spent away from the Depths. “Winter comes,” he intoned, his golden eyes searching hers intently. “Is your home threatened by the snows?” It was his way of asking whether she would visit during the Long Cold.

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