Post by seraaches on Oct 4, 2008 15:53:55 GMT -5
Damas closed the door behind him, nodding at the two guards standing to each side before taking a few steps away. His ear twitched at the sound of approaching feet, a mixture of types and he turned to face down the hallway, trying to control his expression.
Archie came into sight and the bison’s jaw clenched at the feline’s face. The cat mouthed the words ‘Sorry, lieutenant’ before trotting on past to take up an informal post beside his squadmate.
Damas stood with his legs spread shoulder width apart as his crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes flicked over the approaching men, quickly abandoning Alachard in lieu of the approaching bipedal stag. He was suddenly relieved that he had his own bipedal form, wanting to meet this man on equal ground.
Reston’s stride hesitated suddenly as he caught sight of the bison staring at him. He paused, and met the other man’s gaze. The Heart turned to glance back questioningly.
“Who is that?” Reston asked, brow furrowing slightly.
Alachard looked back up the hallway before answering. “That’s Lieutenant Damas. I wonder what’s wrong; he looks upset.”
Reston’s ears went back as he inspected the man staring at him with hostility. “I wonder,” he echoed, but he had a feeling he knew what the bison was thinking. Reston’s ears went back uneasily at the possessiveness obvious in the Club’s eyes. What in the world did this mean? It seemed that Mari’s feelings had change whilst Alachard and Edward were off looking for him, and the nerves came back worse than ever. Would she welcome him now?
“Hello, Damas,” the Heart was already to the waiting guard and had extended his hand to the other man.
“Captain Alachard,” the bison said quietly, clasping the other man’s hand quickly. “Did you have a good journey?”
“Well enough, Lieutenant, well enough. Let me introduce the man of the hour.” The avian turned back towards the stag, extending a hand towards the Avington. Reston silently stepped closer, stopping to stare at the Selkie bison. Alachard continued as though unaware of the tension between the two men. “Reston, this is Lieutenant Damas; he’s been taking point on Mari’s guard since Edward and I were deployed to find you. Damas, this is the infamous Reston.” Alachard smiled back at the stag.
Reston leaned forward, putting out his own hand to the bison. “Thank you for watching out for her.”
Damas fought the need to glower. He took the stag’s hand in his own and gave it a quick, sharp shake. “No need for thanks.” He wanted to tell the Avington to shove it. He wanted to tell the man that she deserved better than some coward who hid up in who knew where whilst she was dealing with increasing discomfort and a growing belly in an unusual and uncomfortable set of circumstances. He knew her past, knew where she had come from and this man knew nothing of what Mari had been dealing with. This man. . . didn’t deserve to be here.
Reston shifted his weight uneasily as the stockier bison continued to glare angrily at him. He wasn’t entirely certain why the man had such hostility towards him other than the assumption that something had happened between Mari and the Selkie Club. “Well, in any case, it is appreciated; Mari has had. . . a difficult life.”
“Yes, I know.” Damas’ eyes flashed at the stag, daring the other man to try and explain just how hard the woman’s life had been. His swift flare of anger did as expected; Reston fell silent, watching with large, wary eyes. Damas cursed under his breath and quickly looked down at the floor. He wasn’t supposed to show his emotions. Now the Heart was staring at him as well. He knew that his squad were staring, had been staring for weeks now. He had to change the subject.
“She’s sleeping now,” he sounded defensive. He tried to level out his voice. “We’ll find you when she wakes up.” The bison turned away.
Reston tensed, but he shook his head. “No, I’ll wait in there until she wakes up.”
Damas whirled back to narrow his eyes angrily at the stag. “No, you won’t.”
Reston’s gaze responded in kind, but for being a deer, he wasn’t going to bolt, not this time. “I’m afraid that’s not your decision,” the Avington said quietly.
“I’m her guard; it is my decision.”
Alachard looked from one man to the next, silent as he took in the tension and the power struggle going on between the two. This was interesting, but certainly not something he wanted to deal with after several months of travelling.
Reston shook his head sadly. “She asked me to be here,” the stag softly pointed out and the words were like a blow to the bison. Damas retreated a step from the door. Reston stared at the Club, as though expecting the bison to return with some sharp response.
The guard shook his head, and shoved a hand towards the door. “Fine. There it is.” His tone was sullen, hard.
Reston stared at the Selkie for a long moment, but his gaze slipped to the door and the first hint of panic touched his eyes. The door was opening.
Archie came into sight and the bison’s jaw clenched at the feline’s face. The cat mouthed the words ‘Sorry, lieutenant’ before trotting on past to take up an informal post beside his squadmate.
Damas stood with his legs spread shoulder width apart as his crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes flicked over the approaching men, quickly abandoning Alachard in lieu of the approaching bipedal stag. He was suddenly relieved that he had his own bipedal form, wanting to meet this man on equal ground.
Reston’s stride hesitated suddenly as he caught sight of the bison staring at him. He paused, and met the other man’s gaze. The Heart turned to glance back questioningly.
“Who is that?” Reston asked, brow furrowing slightly.
Alachard looked back up the hallway before answering. “That’s Lieutenant Damas. I wonder what’s wrong; he looks upset.”
Reston’s ears went back as he inspected the man staring at him with hostility. “I wonder,” he echoed, but he had a feeling he knew what the bison was thinking. Reston’s ears went back uneasily at the possessiveness obvious in the Club’s eyes. What in the world did this mean? It seemed that Mari’s feelings had change whilst Alachard and Edward were off looking for him, and the nerves came back worse than ever. Would she welcome him now?
“Hello, Damas,” the Heart was already to the waiting guard and had extended his hand to the other man.
“Captain Alachard,” the bison said quietly, clasping the other man’s hand quickly. “Did you have a good journey?”
“Well enough, Lieutenant, well enough. Let me introduce the man of the hour.” The avian turned back towards the stag, extending a hand towards the Avington. Reston silently stepped closer, stopping to stare at the Selkie bison. Alachard continued as though unaware of the tension between the two men. “Reston, this is Lieutenant Damas; he’s been taking point on Mari’s guard since Edward and I were deployed to find you. Damas, this is the infamous Reston.” Alachard smiled back at the stag.
Reston leaned forward, putting out his own hand to the bison. “Thank you for watching out for her.”
Damas fought the need to glower. He took the stag’s hand in his own and gave it a quick, sharp shake. “No need for thanks.” He wanted to tell the Avington to shove it. He wanted to tell the man that she deserved better than some coward who hid up in who knew where whilst she was dealing with increasing discomfort and a growing belly in an unusual and uncomfortable set of circumstances. He knew her past, knew where she had come from and this man knew nothing of what Mari had been dealing with. This man. . . didn’t deserve to be here.
Reston shifted his weight uneasily as the stockier bison continued to glare angrily at him. He wasn’t entirely certain why the man had such hostility towards him other than the assumption that something had happened between Mari and the Selkie Club. “Well, in any case, it is appreciated; Mari has had. . . a difficult life.”
“Yes, I know.” Damas’ eyes flashed at the stag, daring the other man to try and explain just how hard the woman’s life had been. His swift flare of anger did as expected; Reston fell silent, watching with large, wary eyes. Damas cursed under his breath and quickly looked down at the floor. He wasn’t supposed to show his emotions. Now the Heart was staring at him as well. He knew that his squad were staring, had been staring for weeks now. He had to change the subject.
“She’s sleeping now,” he sounded defensive. He tried to level out his voice. “We’ll find you when she wakes up.” The bison turned away.
Reston tensed, but he shook his head. “No, I’ll wait in there until she wakes up.”
Damas whirled back to narrow his eyes angrily at the stag. “No, you won’t.”
Reston’s gaze responded in kind, but for being a deer, he wasn’t going to bolt, not this time. “I’m afraid that’s not your decision,” the Avington said quietly.
“I’m her guard; it is my decision.”
Alachard looked from one man to the next, silent as he took in the tension and the power struggle going on between the two. This was interesting, but certainly not something he wanted to deal with after several months of travelling.
Reston shook his head sadly. “She asked me to be here,” the stag softly pointed out and the words were like a blow to the bison. Damas retreated a step from the door. Reston stared at the Club, as though expecting the bison to return with some sharp response.
The guard shook his head, and shoved a hand towards the door. “Fine. There it is.” His tone was sullen, hard.
Reston stared at the Selkie for a long moment, but his gaze slipped to the door and the first hint of panic touched his eyes. The door was opening.
