The Sunspire Death Is A War[M] Blanket

Clay doesn't know what he was expecting. Probably for the man to just end his pathetic life; An idea that sits oddly well with the prince. It would be so easy for Donovan to just rip his throat out, to bash his brains in with those paws and go on with his life as if nothing happened. As if Clay was just an unconventional leaf in the wind.

But he doesn't.

All he gets for his trouble is the weight of the man against him, smothering him to the earth as giant paws shove themselves into his neck and face. He can't bite back with how they're angled under his jaw, and every attempt makes an uncomfortable crick in his neck. So Clay just gives in for now and stares, seething at the man with a shakey breathes and silent curses. "Tell me to calm down one more time!" He shouts.

And then Donovan apologizes—something he didn't expect from the man. Clay tries to not let it affect him, tries to control and keep his anger constant at the beast but he can't. Not with those flat ears and soft tone, it moves him, albeit slightly, and Clay can do nothing but sigh and close his eyes.

He's tired.
He's so fucking tired.

"You're so disgusting," he whispers, barely audible on his ghosted breath. "I'm not going to be able to walk after this—I hope you know that. You're going to have to take me with you."