AESIOR OPHELES
✯ — got spirits in my head and they won't go
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Nightmares were much too familiar of an occurrence, a well known and hated thing truly. Although, tonight had been a different one, where he could rest and sleep, the presence of a soul allowing him to sleep in peace for once. Little did the grim know of events within camp until voices woke him up. These voices were full of concern, and they were far different from what he usually heard in his head. Cracking his eyes open as an NPC appeared before his nest, pulling himself to his paws groggily. It was then that he heard mention of Fraggle and his scent hit his nose. He was home. But something was off - his scent shouldn't be tainted by fear and it had a hint of a predatorial scent rather than a prey animal's scent.
The sleepiness was gone at that moment, stumbling over numb paws for a moment before he was on his way at a well-meaning trot. Halting in front of the child, he blinked in surprise. This was Fraggle's nest alright, and the lion cub before him seemed to be like Fraggle with the feathers. Inhaling his scent as his mind processed things, he brushed past the bystanders with a raspy squeak aimed towards Fraggle. He still couldn't speak, it would never be something he could recover in this body, but he had gained the ability to squeak after harsh use of his voice and throat. Stepping closer, he would extend his neck to try to touch his nose to Fraggle's head and lay down beside his nest, he wanted to comfort the child, and the only way he knew was through physically holding the child. He was unsure of what else to do, shuffling closer and lifting a paw, attempting to place it on top of Fraggle's own, crooning quietly.
The sleepiness was gone at that moment, stumbling over numb paws for a moment before he was on his way at a well-meaning trot. Halting in front of the child, he blinked in surprise. This was Fraggle's nest alright, and the lion cub before him seemed to be like Fraggle with the feathers. Inhaling his scent as his mind processed things, he brushed past the bystanders with a raspy squeak aimed towards Fraggle. He still couldn't speak, it would never be something he could recover in this body, but he had gained the ability to squeak after harsh use of his voice and throat. Stepping closer, he would extend his neck to try to touch his nose to Fraggle's head and lay down beside his nest, he wanted to comfort the child, and the only way he knew was through physically holding the child. He was unsure of what else to do, shuffling closer and lifting a paw, attempting to place it on top of Fraggle's own, crooning quietly.
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THE FLOWER BURNS