Overture Downs make your peace

A grumbled growl rumbles in the demon’s chest—a huff soon to follow as he tugs on the ear he’s got latched between his teeth. This time, the touch isn’t nearly as damaging as the others. It’s soft enough to keep from breaking skin—unlike the chomp so evidently taken from his own right.

Teeth raking across his neck leave a flurry of fire in their wake, a feeling that the Wayfarer has become accustomed to, yet something about it is unique to the situation he shares now with Ghost. There are no intentions to kill, no intentions to be good and certainly no talk of friendship blossoming between them.

They’re just two broken boys living in the present.

He releases the ear, raising his leg closest to Ghost and resting it across the other’s chest. His head follows after, tail raising in a half-hearted wag until it flops useless again at the Wayfarer’s hip.