Ankyra Sound La Lune

He was sitting when Chacal appeared, posed as a golden statue that overlooked the twilit shoreline and its thinning line of orange light that still blazed across the horizon, setting fire to the waves. An ear twitched at her approach, and he turned his head more out of obligation than surprise.

By now, the quiet sentinel could identify anyone in Sapphique merely by the sound of their steps.

His tail wagged softly as she came toward him, though he gave her a questioning look. This was an unusual moment. Svalinn rarely spoke in more than grunts these days, which meant that he was typically left to his own devices, so long as he provided and guarded as religiously as he had. Still, he welcomed the company. He may not enjoy speaking, but that didn’t mean he never felt lonely.

At her touch, he was on his feet at once, nudging his broad head fondly beneath her proud chin as he matched her stride. He said nothing to the musical Tanzanite at first, though he kept her expression in the corner of his eye, noting the aura of her gilded hood in the glow of sunset.