King Elk Forest with baited breath

♥

As Mato follows Nova’s scent wanting to give her the run-down on how the visit to the Caldera had gone ( not well admittedly ) but figuring that she wanted to know despite having not gone. Mato hadn’t bothered asking her, either, if only because he presumed he already knew her answer; but now he understands in a way he had not been able to before. The druid gives pause at the heavy footfalls of the King Elk fall upon his ears and waits with baited breath as the magnificent beast strides past him. A shiver slithers down the empyrean’s spine as he takes in the sheer size of the king elk and it’s massive antlers. It has not fought: not for the territory, not for a mate but surely he is old enough to procreate for he does not strike the starlit king as young; his antlers are towering and thick, in no way chipped or unbroken leaving Mato to wonder if any other male would be dense enough to challenge the king elk. Mato does not move from the spot he froze in, and for a moment the two kings stare at one another — the young and the ancient, the wolf and the elk, the god and the mortal. A respect passes between them ( or perhaps it is a tolerance from the elk and Mato simply flatters himself ); unspoken words before the King Elk lets out a low snort and moves on his path.

Mato releases the breath he’d held and continues on to where Nova’s scent is the strongest. He is not even in her vicinity properly before he breathes, “Did you see him too? The King Elk?” with breathless excitement and awe in his voice, offering his sister a gentle and affectionate nudge to her muzzle in way of proper greeting.