Ankyra Sound 별빛달빛

Heavy upon the starsilver berserker’s crown rested a wreath of iron knotwork fashioned of turmoil; Coelacanth was helpless to lift it from him, but in her own way she sought to ease its weight — her feathered tail beat a fluttering tattoo against her slender hocks as, with a hesitant pull of slender limbs, she sought to draw nearer still. Her slim muzzle extended slowly, shyly upward, pausing just before she broke the barrier of physical contact. If Kjalarr allowed it, her lips would part and her tongue would graze the underside of his jaw and the tip of his chin — well away from his vulnerable throat or even his cheek. Privately she thought that no wolf could fully predict the consequences of his actions — the future was a fluid, ever-changing thing dependent on factors far beyond even a king’s grasp — but she had no way of making this known. The best she could do was offer comfort and companionship if he desired it, though if he preferred his solitude she would willingly make herself scarce. A soft, purring hum took up residence in her breast as she looked upon the berserker with limpid Neptune eyes, willing him to understand that his secrets were uniquely safe with her — and if he no longer wished to talk, she was no stranger to silence. She wished only to offer him sanctuary.

After a beat, she inferred that the platinum northman wished to be alone with his thoughts, and with a last gentle touch of her tip of his nose to the tip of one of his toes in homage, she retreated into the shadows.