Ankyra Sound a drop of hell, a touch of strange

those conversations were difficult for the young ghost to have. he lacked a great deal of the social graces that he should have learned in his vital growth phase. he had found a safety in the silence that he’d adopted. it was as though he could keep himself from everything if he did not say a word. still, he had promised the scarred male beside him that he would have the strength of the pack at his back. he really only wanted to demonstrate that he had been serious. talk was cheap, though, and the wildling knew better than to simply make promises without having anything to show for them.
 
their time would arrive, and he would fulfill the vow that he had made.
 
in that, though, firefly seemed to adopt the same mindset. he spoke seriously and expressed that he would assist in defending illidan and caiaphas when the fight was upon them. there was a heavy sigh that sat in the back of the boy’s throat. he refrained from letting it free and instead turned to the sun-touched male with a wild expression. “would you like to practice with a spar?”