But then, words began to stream from her lips—an answer, an apology, a ’my love.’ His ears twitched at the words, dark brows raising and creasing slightly as she hastened to amend the easy slip of her tongue. His head, already dropped to her level, reached out towards her, muzzle gently seeking to briefly brush the soft skin just below the base of her horn. Navy eyes sought her pale gaze, uncertain of what he would find there but knowing very little happiness existed in the once-cheery woman.
“Anz,” his low voice rumbled softly, “Anz, what is wrong? You may speak to me, you are among my oldest friends in Helovia.” He sighed softly, his hot breath filling the narrowed space between the King and his Glazier. He wasn’t certain exactly what was causing such a change in his Glazier, nor what caused her to confuse her words or carry her elegant body in such a dejected manner.
In the face of the delicate woman’s sadness, even Mbwene was swayed. She stopped the mental onslaught of images to her bonded, instead shuffling forward with a soft wine and twining her long trunk in Anzanie’s silken, ivory tail as a gesture of solace. The King offered a small, lopsided grin, “You’ve even won Mbwene over.” And then his low voice faded, waiting to see what ailed his friend.
@Anzanie