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Midas take away the pain inflicted on me, the hunger you're letting me feed His omission tugs at my heart in a painful way—I smile, though the grin comes as more of a grimace. Muzzle extends and ebony brushes across ebony to solidify our bond, he had grown into a trustworthy friend and brother, I didn’t doubt his vow to come whenever aid was necessary. There were only a few that could be so readily counted upon, “Ye will always have a home here.” I whispered, knowing that Satanic didn’t need to be told what we both already knew. “Fly straight brother, may ye grow stronger still.” I withdrew and pushed out a genuine sigh of contentment. Nothing was ever certain, bonds broke, lands changed, magic faded and our lives were blown out by the simplest of disasters. My parents, mentor, leaders, they had all eventually left me alone in this world. A mate and child could do just the same; I had claimed three offspring in this short life. One born from blood, one from a mating that failed, and another from the grief and misfortune of his true dame and sire. There was one thing that remained, the bonds I held with various fellows. Most of them born as soldiers. Those alliances had been woven from a different cloth, we had seen blood spill upon the sand; heard the groan of death and felt hot sweat cake our bodies. We trained together, joked about life and death—taught each other wisdom. Warriors and their brethren were created from some of the most unbreakable threads. |
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