- Sep 11, 2022
- 52
- 28
- 18
// retro injury
➵ He'd asked her on a walk; his border patrol had returned and Clayfur's hadn't yet, so it seemed a good opportunity to spend some time with a friend instead. He'd hunted plenty for the day, so he didn't feel terribly guilty taking some leisure time.
He hadn't meant for it to turn into this—small talk meant "how are you" and then "how's [person you're clearly in love with but I'm not going to say that]" and he'd forgotten that the right response was a short one. The man's face had brightened, flaxen-gold eyes glassy in the throes of memory, and he'd all too quickly found himself rambling, practically spilling poetry about hazel eyes and earthen white-splashed fur.
"You've seen the way he falls asleep on people?" he's saying now. "Stars. It's precious. And when he rolls over so his chin faces up, there's this little spot, when I groom it just right he always purrs, it's—"
Clearsight cuts himself off with a sigh.
"It's perfect. Do you know what I mean?"
He thinks they might. The way they look at Poppysplash is so... familiar.
// @willowroot
& we've all got battle scars ✗