Tiered Norse (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
canislaconis) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
accordancy2012-10-22 10:39 pm
canislaconis) wrote in accordancy2012-10-22 10:39 pm
001 - At the crossroads one more time
[When he wakes, he's still only half-aware. Sprawled on the bed, one arm strewn over the empty mattress at his side, his first thought is that Salem had gotten up, for some reason. Blearily, he peeked open an eye to see if she was still in the room. And, for a moment, the only hint that something was off was the vague sense of uneasiness in his stomach. But it nagged enough for him to keep staring, trying to piece together what was off.
Slowly, the wrongness began to take shape. The empty bed was cold. The covers were undisturbed. The furniture, impersonal and empty, didn't make up the familiar sillouhettes that made up their quarters in their cramped apartment. And, as he propped himself up, a low growl starting in his throat, even the smell was wrong.
She wasn't here.
Here wasn't here. Or, at least, it wasn't where it should be.
He doesn't speak to the grimmoire. It doesn't even occur to him that there would be one to speak to. In seconds, he's up on his feet and stalking into the halls, his bare feet practically silent against the floor. With his teeth bared--fangs showing--and no sunglasses to hide his pale, wolfish eyes, there's no question that he is neither human nor remotely happy.
Hello, Accord]
Slowly, the wrongness began to take shape. The empty bed was cold. The covers were undisturbed. The furniture, impersonal and empty, didn't make up the familiar sillouhettes that made up their quarters in their cramped apartment. And, as he propped himself up, a low growl starting in his throat, even the smell was wrong.
She wasn't here.
Here wasn't here. Or, at least, it wasn't where it should be.
He doesn't speak to the grimmoire. It doesn't even occur to him that there would be one to speak to. In seconds, he's up on his feet and stalking into the halls, his bare feet practically silent against the floor. With his teeth bared--fangs showing--and no sunglasses to hide his pale, wolfish eyes, there's no question that he is neither human nor remotely happy.
Hello, Accord]
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He's sturdy enough that the collision doesn't do much more than make him stumble, but the low growl that had been building in his throat ends with a sudden grunt as he reaches out to catch her arms and steady her.
It's instinct, and one that might have quickly shifted back to attacking, except....well...she didn't exactly look threatening.
For a moment, all he can do is look at her blankly. It's his confused face, really]
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Who are you. Where did you come from.
Why didn't she look where she was going.]