Bramblepoint The hunger revealing

lorcan savors the moment, the feel of her head resting against his own, the fleeting warmth shared between them like a fragile ember in the cold. a hum rumbles from his throat is low as his neck tilts and his teeth graze the fur at the back of her neck. it’s a gesture that’s uncharacteristically gentle for him, more grooming than anything else, a small act of quiet care.

there’s a densite not far from here, he murmurs through fur as his teeth continue their soft work. tucked by a grove of trees. empty. safe enough. he pauses; focus still on her.

his gaze shifts briefly to the hare she’s picking apart, the faintest flicker of satisfaction crossing his face at seeing her eat. finish that, and we’ll head there, he says. weather’s turning ugly. need to be off this ground before it gets worse.

patience, he tells himself. he’s not good at it, but he can manage. for her, maybe. or maybe just because he doesn’t want to see her fall apart before they’ve even found a place to settle. not that he’d admit it, not even to himself.