02-21-2020, 02:38 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Since Moth’s disappearance, Selby had not gotten much rest. That was to be expected. His girlfriend, the mother of his children, gone with no indication of where she was. It was, of course, nerve wracking. The worry stirred exhausted limbs and forced them to move, whether that be the spastic jerking of a hind leg or a pace that never seemed to end. He was always moving. Always thinking.
It was during one of these pacing spells that he heard a commotion at the border. He came quickly, hoping for a sign. Anything. And it was more than a sign that he received.
Moth.
“Moth.” The sound was barely a whisper, and he was just barely within sight. “Moth!” Louder. A few stumbling steps. A couple more. Relief allowed him to finally feel the exhaustion that raged within, and it quickly came to collect its debts. A little farther. Just a little more. A little farther.
He was just in front of her.
Quickly, he gave her a once over. A small scratch, and a concussion. Selby sags, leaning forward to press his nose into the soft fur of her cheek. He ignored Aurum and all the rest for now. They didn’t matter. She mattered. Her scent, now mixed with that of The Pitt’s, was familiar and comforting. “You’re home. Moth.”
It was during one of these pacing spells that he heard a commotion at the border. He came quickly, hoping for a sign. Anything. And it was more than a sign that he received.
Moth.
“Moth.” The sound was barely a whisper, and he was just barely within sight. “Moth!” Louder. A few stumbling steps. A couple more. Relief allowed him to finally feel the exhaustion that raged within, and it quickly came to collect its debts. A little farther. Just a little more. A little farther.
He was just in front of her.
Quickly, he gave her a once over. A small scratch, and a concussion. Selby sags, leaning forward to press his nose into the soft fur of her cheek. He ignored Aurum and all the rest for now. They didn’t matter. She mattered. Her scent, now mixed with that of The Pitt’s, was familiar and comforting. “You’re home. Moth.”