[PRP] Over a Morning Cup (Damien/Uru)

[PhiferWolf]

The sounds of morning were clear; the scuffle of shoes on the cobblestone walkways, the fluttering of wings of diurnal avians, the voices of students, and the realization of the enveloping warmth around oneself. To him, the sounds were magnified a great deal due to his natural abilities, even in the pinned state, he was able to hear everything at a higher fold, but thanks to his training and constant exposure, they were soft thrums to his annoyance. A whine came from beneath the spare blanket as the body there curled into itself, the sheet covers his head in a futile attempt to block the sounds from outside. As the audio stimuli made itself known to the demon boil, other sensations were slowly rising to his conscious awareness; the soft bed that he had been resting on, the pillow that threatened to engulf his head, the presences against his back, the soft whines, whimpers, and breathing of said presences over his shoulder, and a large body that he had draped an arm over. One specifically he could feel between the blades of his back. With a surly expression, Uru lifted his head, glaring over his shoulder at the tiny culprit that was wiggling and kicking at him. It was a foxfire, one he had not been introduced to yet, but it was certainly a small one. With a groan - and rolling his eyes - the demon pushed up with his arm to sit up, the other rubbing up his face and through his hair as a soft whinning-yawn escaped his maw, cut off as he licked his dried lips. Jack, it's morning... he thought as he blinked a few times with eyes far too heavy to even attempt to open entirely. His mind was in a state of sleep and awareness, and sleep was putting up a good fight. The movement caused the little foxfire to whimper as it wiggled to get back against the warmth that it had been using for comfort until its tiny body found his side. Uru lifted his arm to watch as the minipet settle in against him with a soft exhale until it stilled again - except with the small rise and fall of its chest. He let out his own exhale as he sat in the bed - Damien's bed, half draped with the spare blanket that he was offered the night before.

He was sitting in someone else's bed. He had slept with someone else. He had just unwrapped himself from said someone.The demon rolled his head back, a soft pop at the neck elicited a soft groan as he hung his head back with closed eyes, the light from outside that was spilling through the window was welcomed. A sniff told him that this place was not his own, but his scent clung on the surface of the fragrance, but deeper it was of a monster's. His inner wolf groaned at that fact. Sighing, he sat up in the bed, glancing over at the bump on the bed beside him; Damien. The monster was curled up, surrounded by his pack of foxfires that seemed to lay on and around him, soft breaths from that side of the room. Asleep. he confirmed, propping a knee up underneath the blanket to rest his arm against. It wasn't the first time he had spooned someone before; his sister made it a habit to crawl into his bed when it stormed out - has been since she was little. Since then, it had became a habit for them to sleep together when a storm raged outside. Not to mention that they were tactile creatures to begin with so this was certainly not strange for him. Was it for the monster? He would admit that this was a good bed and that sleep was certainly welcomed after so long with very little of it and very little comfort. So welcomed in fact that he might do it again. Might being the cognitive word. Shaking his head, he stared down at his current position; sitting in someone else's bed. The smell was getting to him. It didn't make him want to gag or anything like that, but it made his skin shiver - again, not in any sort of negative context. Running his fingers down his arm, peppered with thin hair, he didn't feel anything but warmth. Such a strange sensation. Throwing the covers off himself, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he looked down at his planted feet. At some point in the night, his pants had came off and so he was just in his briefs and tank top. One more article of clothing from the master of the house. Uru gave a quick glance over his shoulder before gathering his things and moved into the bathroom.

Inside, he flicked the light on to look at himself in the mirror; disheveled hair, eyelids barely opened over the blue eyes that had gold in their center, the scruffy face that he was developing into. Looking down at the sink where both hands were planted, he saw the small tri-spiral mark tattooed on his right wrist. The proof of rite from his uncle. He grimaced at the brand before reaching to lift his tanktop to reveal another just below his rib on the left side - his mother's proof of rite. Two reminders that he had beaten his elders in a fight that ultimately led to the exile of himself and his mother from the pack. With an agitated growl, he ran the water to splash himself and got his pants on.

Draping his jacket and other belongings on the couch, the demon moved into the main part of Damien's home and straight to the kitchen. He checked the cabinets, opening and closing each one, glancing at its contents before finding the specific one he wanted. He started to brew some coffee and set a kettle on. He found standing off against the counter, shooting heated glares at the two appliances as if to will them to work harder, faster. With sensitive ears, he pulled the kettle from the heat to prevent the shrilling sound of steam escaping it's nozzle to spare the sleeping boil in the other room from a rude awaking.

On the couch with the cup in hand, he sat on the couch in a very similar position as the day before; legs firm on the floor, elbows on the knees, cup clutched between laced fingers, staring distantly at whatever it was in front of him. A burning fang snare on a small plate on the coffee-table filled the room with a smell of spiced vanilla, along with the coffee, but he could still pick up his scent and Damien's all too well. He took a sip. The room looked nice; it was modern, classier than his own and he had to live as a demon among the demon dorm, but this one was functional and homey, inviting even. He could pick up the things that Damien did and where he did them among the places; noting them as his eyes scanned the room over the rim of the cup. The color, the furniture, the appliances, the opened areas, the front door, the closet, the place mat where their shoes rested, the bedroom divider, the kitchen, he took in the dormroom that looked a lot more like an apartment. He got himself another cup before returning to his spot.

He'll apologize to Damien when he woke up. He'd apologize for sleeping in his bed. He'd apologize for being an inconvenience. He'd apologize for cuddling him and his foxfires. He'd apologize for using his coffee and tea. He'd apologize for burning something in his room. All of these with a single, monosyllable word; 'Sorry'.

All he had to do was wait for his host to wake up. Couldn't just leave.

 

[Bloodlust Dante]

Damien was not used to sharing physical space before, greeting the mid morning sun with a yawn, a stretch from head to toe in bed and a whine for wishing not to wake up as he nestled himself further in bed. The foxfires resettled into position after he made his move.

He shared his space with minipets, but another creeple was something else. He could remember smelling the other boil on the other edge of the bed, wrapped in the spare blanket that emanated heat residue that was cooling away he could hear the sounds of rustling in the kitchen. It was not the same as having Levi, practically his sister, bombarding him on bed for tailhugs and bonding.

It was not the same.

The hound found it impossible to hide from it any longer, getting up with a sigh and trudging over the bathroom to wash up before greeting his guest. and taking the chance to wake his mind up, the collection of foxfires cascading behind him with the yips of morning greetings and spinning in circles to make the morning cute routine. They brushed by his feet in as he patted his face dry and pretended the towel was attacking them, covering a few in its fluffy splendor and watched as a couple tried to be brave and dangle by their stubby paws on the end as Damien laughed and tugged them off gently.

He continued to hold his parade as he entered into the main room and closed the divider behind the minipack as they went to swarm the guest as well, sniffing and spinning and barking up a happy storm. "How did you sleep?" he said, lower in pitch from sleep, green eyes twinkling to see that the boil was still there. He knew it was forward to ask him to stay, but it was impossible to let the boil out of his sights, not after that night with what was heard.

Night was over, it was time to face the day and what it brought with him. "want me to make some breakfast?" he was ready to take a look in the fridge to see what he could make.

The Word Breakfast had a ripple effect through the poofs, as they crowded around the food tray and began to look for the minipet feed, whining when none was found to both parties present.  

[PhiferWolf]

Suddenly, his head raised up, his eyes trained in the direction of the room as the distant sound of rustle got his attention. The sound wasn't distant to him, it sounded as if he was in the bed himself and the smell became that much more apparently when the blanket was peeled away from the boil. The distinct smell of Damien flooded outward from its containment that made his noise flare. His host was awake. The yips and yaps of the foxfires quickly followed and the sound of pitter patter was indication that their master was parading them; the sight of it was also an obvious proof. He watched with unspoken words as the monster moved around the dorm. Damien was just in his boxers from the night before. Now with the morning light filtering into the room, he could see more of the boil's body than in the dark. It was definitely toned of hard practice and athleticism, deep, vibrant green lines decored his body in a way that was beyond his comprehension but found himself staring at them, tracing them with sunburst eyes. His face in a state of happiness, but the presence of sleep was still there. His voice also proved that.

"It was fine." Giving a monotone response, he turned back to his cup for another ship, trying to escape into the aroma of the brew and the fang snare that sizzled quietly on the table. It was more than fine, his back did not ache, nor did his neck, but he did miss the natural atmosphere of sleeping outdoors, but this was hands down better. He wasn't alone, he was warm, and he was comfortable.

Shaking his head from the couch, he looked at the boil who stood bent over into the fridge. "I'm... not hungry." He answered finally. He wasn't hungry, he hadn't been in a while, but he knew that it would be rude if he were to deny his host's offerings. So, if there were no offerings was it a disrespect? "Something small."

"They seem hungry." Uru pointed out, gesturing with his scruffy chin.  

[Bloodlust Dante]

The pack of poofs echoed his statement, yapping up a storm as Damien retrieved the feed bag, the little mini's jumping for joy when the hound filled the tray. "They always are." he informed Uru, a visitor to the morning ritual as he rubbed at a green mark on his side, contemplating what to make.

The smell of burning incense was not common, the tendrils wafting to his nose that sparked his hunger. It was harmless he figured, and the boil that was visiting was allowed the luxury.

The hound gave up, nothing fancy coming to mind as he took two slices of bread to the toaster, a couple of eggs and morning piggle sausage out and pulled out a skillet from the oven. He had a few of the necessities, the skillet being his all around go to item for cooking with the tiny lightning powered apparatus. "So, whats your plan for today, Uru?" he asked, happy to go into the conversation, to see what he was thinking while the eggs and sausage cooked, adding salt and pepper to what needed it, moreso the eggs than the already seasoned sausage.  

[PhiferWolf]

He knew that much, especially when they were young. It was why he made food available to his own that stayed in his room. It was one of the first things he trained them to do; feed themselves and only when they needed it. Otherwise, they didn't get the special treats that he concocted himself based on research and experience on the health and nutrition of minis. Most of the recipe was out of a book he found while he was trying to feed Faustus. Uru simply nodded toward the boy in agreement with the statement.

He was thankful that the fang snare left little evidence of itself after it had burned out but the smell itself; no ashes. If only other flammable things shared a similar quality.

When the clang of metal sounded from the kitchen, his head jerked up out of instinct; did he hurt himself? What was metal in the kitchen because the sound was so familiar that it was a distant memory now. He watched as the boil pulled the iron skillet from the cabinet that made him almost wince. He never watched the staff cook while he was little but he was aware of all the items that hung from the ceiling in the kitchen, particularly a few that his mother was fond of. He shook his head as his face put on a surly expression, taking another sip from his cup as he attempted to calm himself. With the cup emptied, he made his way into the kitchen on the premise that he was getting himself another cup of coffee but in actuality, he was following his nose to a smell that he wasn't particularly familiar with. It smelled like meat. Standing at his height with slightly slouched posture, the pair came to about the same height and he gave a glance over his shoulder now to peer at those green marks. They were definitely a part of his skin, not like a fur coloration or paint, this was definitely in his skin. The demon huffed as he tipped the brew into his cup.

"Nothing." he replied simply. It was the truth, he didn't plan anything today other than to apologize to Damien for imposing and then make his leave. The fact that the boil was making breakfast should have been a sign that he was being a gracious host and that he was welcomed to stay a bit longer. Yet, that wasn't how Uru saw it. Ever the pessimist, he made his way back to the couch with ducked head and eyes to the ground in front of his feet with the cup of joe in his hands.

The sound of something sliding over cotton got his attention as his jacket slid off the back of the furniture. Hurried, placing his cup onto the table, he leaned over the back of the couch and picked up the leather jacket that was a black lump on the floor. The boil muttered something under his breath with a grunt as he pulled himself off. Looking around, he grumbled something about his shirt and socks missing. Settling himself back onto the couch, he ran through a list of the things he had; the guitar was in the corner, the book and his glasses on a nearby shelf, his shoes by the door, his scarf was safely fastened to his hip, jacket in hand, and he was wearing his tanktop, pants, and briefs... so he was definitely missing his henley and socks. "I don't suppose you have a foxfire that likes to take stuff..."  

[Bloodlust Dante]

The smile on Demi's face was bright, almost mischievous as he flipped the sausage, the pleasant sizzling sound resumed in intensity with the new exposure, searing the fresh side. "Foxfire no, but a curious scruffle, yes."

It had been awhile since he found articles of his own clothing going missing, only to be found in Regal, personal corner. It was back when he first got the mini, something to bond with when the dorm was only him. the need for a companion was strong, overwhelming. It was a lot of work at first, but soon enough, he noticed that the scruffle and him began to understand each other, Its need to bond and understand the scent of whom its around.

"Regals probably laying on it, to get used to your scent." he said as a matter of fact, swaying to the left and right as he monitored the eggs and pulled the toast from the toaster and plopped them on the serving plate. It was a modest amount for the two of them, bringing the platter to the coffee table and giving a warning bark to the poofs to not touch the food until told otherwise.

Once the warning was set, the monster settled his smoky green eyes back on blue and gold of his guest. "If you need to get away or need company, you know you're welcome anytime." he offered, taking a seat next to the boil. "Take as much as you want, its..... nice having company other than Levi." he finished his thought. Not even Bul stayed over like this, it was always a quick knock and drag out of his room, playing host was a nice change.

It was time to shut up, and putting a piece of buttery toast in his mouth helped with that.  

[PhiferWolf]

Regal, the ascended white, black striped scruffle was apparently the one that was to blame for his missin articles of clothing. He was it sure how it had happened but he was certain that the shirt and socks were gone. He contemplated to himself, recalling the events in his mind. He shirk off his short the night prior, folded it and settled it down onto his jacket which he had placed on a chair. Normally, his body produced an incredible amount of heat that sleeping in clothes was often unbearable. That was why he probably had slipped his pants off somewhere during night. The socks must have followed because he recalled the cool, untouched floor that morning. So, sometime during the night his socks were spirited away. It must have been Regal who had pulle the jacket off the couch and made off with the shirt. He wasn't exactly ken on admitting that his clothes were a bit ripe with age. It's been a while since he had been back to his own room. "I'll grab those later." Uru wondered if Regal did this with everyone who entered its master's territory.

Staring at the plate, he knew the toast and the eggs, but he meat escaped him. He knew it was meat, smelled like meat, and judging by Damien, it sounded like it when he bit down. Juicy and flavorful, he wondered why his staff never made to for him when he was around. Taking a bite out of it, he let out a soft moan that was cut short as he glared down at his plate. He had clearly been missing out. He clearly was not aware of exactly how hungry he had been, only being able to recollect a few memories of eating before. Quietly, and with manners befitting a demon, he tucked into his breakfast.


The offer sounded strange to him. If he wanted to be alone, he'd had left already and returned to the tree where Damien had found him. However, if anything was learned yesterday wa that he definitely did not want to be alone. He was vulnerable in all states; physical, mental, etc. and to be welcomed anytime could lead tk awkward situations; especially as a demon walking around a monster's dorm full of monsters. He growled at himself as he wanted to say yes but his manners and moral are telling him to stop imposing. Luckily, Damien had offered a nice deflection of he subject.

Raising his brow with a straight look at the boil, he loaded his utensils. "Who's Levi?" He asked as he grabbed another egg, actually three, his eyes stuck on the boy. Something in him stirred to question if the boy knew this.  

[Bloodlust Dante]

Damien was surprise dby how Uru had reacted to the meal, particularly around the breakfast sausage chosen. It made him worry that it wasn't fully cooked and after taking a cursory bite, decided that it was not the case. The possibility of never having it before didn't cross his mind. Sinking his own teeth into an egg soaked piece of toast, he chewed thoughtfully over the question.


"Levi's a tatzelwurm ghoul that lives in the monster dorm, we treat each other like siblings." he added as a matter of fact, helping himself to another sausage, nibbling delicately. "I'm surprised she hasn't shown up yet, considering that she can smell me cooking from her room." really, it wasn't unusual to have the ghoul come in through the window to have sibling cuddles. "Its not uncommon for her to come in and hang out, we've gone through a lot together here."

It felt good to talk about himself, when most of last night was just focus on Uru and his plight. It was a chance to let the boil know who is trying to help him. they never had a conversation about themselves until now. "Need a refill?"  

[PhiferWolf]

Bloodlust Dante

It did not take long for Uru to finish his breakfast, his utensils nearly placed beside the plate and the dish itself cleaned except for a few smudges. The demon let an exhale. It was a goo breakfast, different from what he's had before, though certainly worth it.

A pang of remorse surged through him as the boil spoke of the sister-monster. They were not related but they were certainly close to one another. He wasn't even sure he has heard of a tatzelwurm before but, the way Damien was describing her it didn't seem to matter. He could recall the memories of He and Brenna and the activities they did around the manor. But as he recalled them, they were few. They were only able to cuddle durin storms and see each other during dinner and between lessons. Yet still, he knew that his sibling bond with her was strong, but was it as strong as these two unrelated monsters?

Uru grimaced, looking at the window. This Levi could arrive at any moment and he'd have to deal with another creep. He hard swallowed before turnin back to his empty plate.

"You don't have to, Damien. It was good." He answered, giving the boil a small nod.

The demon though for a moment, going back to the night before. The monster had pried and got things out of him that he hadn't told people before. He had these strange sensations in him that made him want to talk to the boy and yet he still held back. Even when he had offered the opportunity for the boil to ask anything and he would have truthfully answered, the boil remained courteous and asked simple, non-invasive questions. Uru wanted to say more, to let go of everything, to become undone, yet he appreciated that the boy didn't ask those questions for he was already burden enough.

The room smelled like sausages, eggs, coffee, vanilla , and Damien.

"About last night... I lost myself." Uru started, slowly turning the half empty cup in his hands. How else could he put it? That he was vulnerable? That he was weak? That he let the inner storming turmoil go and it spilled free from him? He was almost certain that the monster boil would brush it off and say 'it's okay' or something along those lines. He did not want to accept that, he should, but he did not want to. Last night was a moment where his walls were down and he was too tired to attempt to build them back up again. He was without defense. The demon wasn't certain if the monster intended to carry on from last night or try to start anew day with something else. Breakfast was certainly a good icebreaker.  

[Bloodlust Dante]

PhiferWolf

The breakfast was not lively like the ones Damien was used to when company came over. No fighting over the last piece of bacon or mischief being played while cooking in the kitchen as flour was thrown about. Having Uru over was more.... refined, was what he would place it under. The hound figured it came from then Demon influence rather than the wild energy monsters in majority have. He boil was ready to get up an go to the coffeepot and settled back into the couch when the boil declined the offer. "You would lose yourself more often then, sometimes you need that."Damien urged, nudging the boil with a shoulder blade, the brushing of skin on cloth.

He was going to have to look for Regal and demand the minipet to return the clothing out of its clutches later, recalling the beast still had one of Levi's hairpins hidden away.

"You don't have bear it all yourself, you've seen what happens when that occurs." he began to fiddle with the empty dishes, collecting them in a pile and shuffling over to the sink to let them soak. "Its ok to share words with others, healthy even,maybe not all the time but your case, maybe a good 40 to 60 percent. you are a grump afterall." he finished his tirade, smirking at the house guest. "Did you find yourself now, or are you still searching?" it piqued his interest, ears perking up at the question.

It was a tempting thought, the chance last night to use the question to pry everything out of him, but despite the symphony of voices that urged it, he took the chance not to. He was confident in the fact that in time, Uru would talk on his own, without prodding.  

[PhiferWolf]

Bloodlust Dante

.

He didn't have any intention of losing himself like that again. He did not like the feeling it left as if he was in a corner clutching himself and rocking side to side. Exposed and unprotected. What was worse that it felt so liberating that it was scaring. It was a foreign sensation but it felt good - necessary. Uru never spoke so frank before, there was no one to talk to about it. His mother was out of the question as she could care less about his thoughts and problems if it didn't pertain to her end results. His uncle, Brenna's father, would have just gone to his mother and the previous thought would still hold true. Could not talk to the staff because they were so frightened that they were just obedient creeple who just nodded and said 'yes, sir' and 'yes, master'. He did his best to spare his sister with his problems. Or any problems. In fact, every problem. It was the touch to his shoulder that made come from his thoughts, almost jumping out of his skin as he jerked his head toward the boil. "I don't exactly like having my walls torn down." He sputtered a response, his hands gripping his mug tighter. "I don't like the idea of being exposed like that again."

He should have took a moment to figure and word a better response. But at least he was truthful in his remark. Uru put the mug down, turning to reach for his jacket, but halted before grabbing it. It was his safety, it was his armor, it had came to be an object of protection - a physical manifestation of his mental walls. It was a gift from Brenna, it smelled a bit like her, though it was fading. Yet he didn't grab it. Perhaps he shouldn't be so guarded around the monster boil, his guard was down since last night and Damien hadn't hurt him or anything along the lines. Making the decision to abandon the action, he turned back to his host.

"I've shouldered everything my whole life. I had been fine until recently." He said matter-of-factly as the green eyed boil moved their dishes to the kitchen. Definitely a gracious host. Much better than his mother was when they hosted the other packs.

"I am not a 'grump'." He growled as he leaned forward on the couch promptly after the comment was made. Good thing the boil was in the kitchen! It was something his sister said a lot too, that he was perpetually grumpy. It wasn't his fault that he was like that. It was his eyebrows and cheekbones. Crossing his arms and falling into the couch, he gave a noncommittal huff. He could think whatever he wants, but he wasn't a grump...

The question caught him off-guard, he didn't have an answer. So then the likely response was 'no'. He shook his head with a wince, he was still a bit lost with everything, but he thought that Damien had given him the first door of many to find himself again. "I'll keep looking." He replied. "Eventually, I'll find a new me... This omega." The title had a strange sound to it but it was something better than a loner. He felt if he said that, the boil would be all over him about it. Better keep avoiding subjects of extreme negativity and loneliness. "I have a lot to think about and gotta wait for the gnomes to finish cleaning my r-" uru straightened, clamming up with tight lips. "My mess."

Horrible recovery.  

[Bloodlust Dante]

PhiferWolf

Damien didn't have a retort to Uru, no witty comment on his mind, pursing his lips and biting his tongue when the hound showed his stubborn streak. Claiming nothing was wrong before until he had to go search the demon out in the middle of the forest and offer him a chance to vent. "Well, it is your own choice." he stated, wanting not to argue his point of view on the subject. It was a careful sense of quiet that fell afterwards, the clink of dishes and running water among the ruffle of minipets around the room making themselves cozy.

"You'll figure your own way, find your resolve, i'm sure of it." he held onto that point, rolling the word over his mind. It was never used at home, preferred to stick to the term 'lone wolf' as his clan elder put it respectfully. "Thinking is good."  

[PhiferWolf]

Bloodlust Dante

It was his choice. Had it been his choice? The more he thought about it, did he ever had a choice before coming here to Amityville? For his first year here, away from the home, away from his mother, he made his own choices and look where it got him. There was no fun and games to be had, there was suffering and nightmares, the occasional class work and field trips, festivals and events. But where did his choices often lead him? Exiled and alone now, and yet, Damien says that he has a choice again. A choice for what? He recalled them discussing something but somewhere between the boil's last comment and his own, he had already forgotten it. A choice to find himself? A choice to be alone? A choice to be around others? A choice to remain lost?

The silence wouldn't normally get to him. Sometimes he enjoyed it, especially when he was alone to let his mind escape into other worlds, into other lives, into the stories of other than his own. Sometimes he'd take a seat at his piano, close his eyes, and let his body compose into the silence. Sometimes he'd take his newly acquired guitar and strum a few strings just for the acoustic echos in the wooden body. But this silence, of minipets roaming the room, huffing and sniffling, wiggling and pattering about, the soft clinks of dishes and running water, it gave him time to think, to take things in. He took in the smell of the place and it made him close his eyes hard as he inhaled each and every time.

He could not think here. The room smelled like Damien and his foxfire hoard, and it had hints of himself here. That bothered him and didn't at the same time, it made his stomach flutter that Uru easily mistaken as a sickening feeling. Perhaps it was the food. No, the food was good, Damien cooked well. Still, the room smelled not like his own, the foxfires kept catching his eyes and he felt stuck on watching them as they paraded around their owner. Sometimes he'd catch himself watching Damien move around his room - the comfortability, the confidence, the way he moved in his own space was not like his own. Granted, he certainly had control over his space and used it to its fullest while it had been whole.

Standing up, he reached for his jacket, slipping his arms through and tugging it on tight. He growled as he stared at his bare feet. The scruffle had laid claim to his socks...

"I can't be here...." Uru muttered, still staring at his feet. Jeez, had he always had a peppering of hair on them? Had he really let himself go that he wasn't tending to himself? He should think of another place to think; his latibule was the tree in the middle of the woods, but it was part of the campus and a path that wasn't often used, but it was indeed used by some students. He could not think properly there. His room was out of the question.

Realizing that he was dwelling on himself, his comment might have came off wrong to the monster. Looking in his direction, he sort of directed his gaze at the boil's hands that was in the sink - not directly at him. "You have been a gracious host. I did not mean to impose on you, and I mean you no offense. I just - I just need some place to... think."

Not here. Not the tree. Not the library. Not the quad. Not his room. Where could he go that he could lose himself to his thoughts? Something mindless and not be disturbed? He knew of a place.  

[Bloodlust Dante]

PhiferWolf

Damien could see it, the invisible foundations being laid, the walls were being prepared to shut him out again. He wasn't sure if this was what it was like for other creeple, creeple outside of his home, this ability to not be open with others, was it even right to say with themselves. He didn't understand why it felt like a punch in the gut, but it was there, leaving him windless and rattled internally. His jaw was set in place as he read between the lines.

The not here was highlighted in the morning light.

"Its not a problem I understand." the words didn't miss a beat, automatic when the last of the morning dishes were put to dry. "I'll go see where Regal put your things." he offered and took his escape into the door by the kitchen that led to the walk in closet, the den for the minipets. The room was preferred to the living room that became cold and closed off, in the span of a few minutes.

He tried not to feel slighted, and the hollow feeling continued to grow. It was the right thing to do for Brenna, he was sure of it. What was the purpose of this again? he had to ask the mental pack, unsure of the answer when the others chimed in, helping a friend. It still didn't feel like a complete answer to him.

The scruffle was on the items as he expected, poised and looking at him with far too intelligent eyes, when the monster hound picked him up and brought him face to face. "We'll talk about your little habit later, mister" he warned him, playful with his seriousness and received a lick on the nose and a little whine.

He was sure that Regal knew things before even he did. and made him wonder who was whoms pet in this place.

The jade eye monster came back out of the room with the items in question, his eyes more set, hardened. "Moved da mutt an' got yer effects." the drawl came out a sharper tone, tossing the items underhand toward the demon hound at the couch and rooting to his spot by the counter.  

[PhiferWolf]

Bloodlust Dante

Jack he mentally cursed at himself, biting his lower lip because he knew that what he said could have been taken wrong. He could have slighted his host which was a big no-no anyway, let alone a host that has been nothing but gracious and went out of his way to help him. Uru moved to say something before the monster disappeared into another room by the kitchen. He let out another curse under his breath. Well, if he didn't feel like crap before, he certainly did now and it wasn't because of his own problems.

Damien had been nothing but kind to him. He didn't have to be. He didn't have to invite him into his territory. He didn't have to share his bed - the fact he shared his bed was an important detail. He didn't have to make him breakfast. He didn't have to be a host. And yet, why was it that there was a feeling that seemed to gut him so much deeper than his mother ever managed to.

The voice in the other room was a murmur to him. The least he could do was not eavesdrop on whatever private mutterings the monster had. When he returned, his eyes were trained on the boil - not stern or angered or offensive, but as innocent and homely he could. Which wasn't saying much. The monster hound tossed him his articles of clothing, but it wasn't the manner that it was done, but the tone that was carried with it. His brows furrowed as he looked down at the lump of clothes in his hands and then to the boil. Definitely slighted. He definitely slighted his host and his host was now acting on it. Jacking hell.

Tossing his clothes onto the couch, he made his way to Damien. Growling, he reached to grab for him, but halted with, grimacing at himself that he would have let his emotion carry him to touch him in such a way. Still he growled, his sunburst eyes engulfing in their solid colors - his eyes betraying him and his intent. Closing his fist and shoving it into his pocket, he let out an exhale."Damien, I did not mean to offend. I do not want to impose on you longer than I already have. Your home is your home, and, as grateful as I am, and you as a gracious host, I should not stay here longer than I am welcomed." he breathed, his eyes returning to their original state. "I'm sorry. I just need somewhere to think. You said it was my choice."