1/31/2025, 1:06 AM
Nightingale felt his throat tighten. Words didn't come. Lifting a paw to hold Geraint closer as he began to tremble and sob. His ears shifted to airplane mode as his eyes veiled.
A deer.
The memory hit him like... well, a deer. A massive buck slamming into him in a failed hunt. He could feel the tine digging into his chest, into his ribs, could feel his lung seize. His heart raced and he clutched Geraint tighter now, as if one of them might evaporate as the memories flooded in.
Oh, mon cœur,he murmured, his voice softening as he just held his mate, burying his face in the other's fur and breathing in his scent.
Is that how I got here? Are we both... is this heaven, or hell, or something in between? I can't imagine anything but heaven would bring you back to me.and Nightingale believed it, with all his heart and soul.
Geraint is welcome in any and all of Nightingale's threads at any point.