̶W̶R̶A̶T̶H̶I̶O̶N̶ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
blackscales) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
westwhere2022-02-25 09:50 pm
blackscales) wrote in westwhere2022-02-25 09:50 pm
Entry tags:
[ CLOSED ]
WHO: Wrathion, Anduin
WHEN: Late Feb - Early March
WHERE: Ke-Waihu, the house of the old village wise man
WHAT: Curses, scratches, and aches
WARNINGS: Wrathion will likely scandalously take his shirt off so Anduin can see what he's healing. Or not healing, as the case may be. There may be disgusting hand contact. There is definitely UST.
In Ke-Waihu, the darkness at night is thick, the silence as heavy as a blanket muffling everything around them.
Wrathion finds it both reassuring and a source of unease. He hears nothing coming, yet neither is there a gentle hum of activity to mask his own movements.
In truth, he should not be out in the dark at all. He should be in his own assigned home, sticking to their cover story. Yet he has grown... accustomed to Anduin's close company, and the scratches that recently appeared on his skin have begun to bother him.
He simply wants him to examine them. As a healer. That's all it is. He isn't thinking about anything else. Not the union ceremony Anduin got swept up in, not the prospect of the Beastmaster being here, not the sick unease he feels wondering if he should leave in case something happens. If he should leave Anduin behind, for his own safety.
Not Anduin's gentle sympathy as they traversed the forest, chased by fleeting visions of Azeroth taunting them with something they could not have.
Not the reminder of how he had faced down Fahrad, devoid of a way to save him as the whispers twisted his mind.
Wrathion feels... strange. He cannot say he has ever particularly been troubled to only have himself for company, yet in the inky darkness here his own thoughts feel... loud somehow. The rooms he stands in feel big, and he feels uncommonly ill at ease.
He sends Anduin a simple message:
I'm outside.
Then waits to be let in, a ghost lurking around the window of Anduin's room in the wiseman's old abode. It seems fitting Anduin has been placed here, since he seems well suited to resolving disputes and giving advice. Then again, he'd likely been enjoying the respite -- or what limited respite he had.
WHEN: Late Feb - Early March
WHERE: Ke-Waihu, the house of the old village wise man
WHAT: Curses, scratches, and aches
WARNINGS: Wrathion will likely scandalously take his shirt off so Anduin can see what he's healing. Or not healing, as the case may be. There may be disgusting hand contact. There is definitely UST.
In Ke-Waihu, the darkness at night is thick, the silence as heavy as a blanket muffling everything around them.
Wrathion finds it both reassuring and a source of unease. He hears nothing coming, yet neither is there a gentle hum of activity to mask his own movements.
In truth, he should not be out in the dark at all. He should be in his own assigned home, sticking to their cover story. Yet he has grown... accustomed to Anduin's close company, and the scratches that recently appeared on his skin have begun to bother him.
He simply wants him to examine them. As a healer. That's all it is. He isn't thinking about anything else. Not the union ceremony Anduin got swept up in, not the prospect of the Beastmaster being here, not the sick unease he feels wondering if he should leave in case something happens. If he should leave Anduin behind, for his own safety.
Not Anduin's gentle sympathy as they traversed the forest, chased by fleeting visions of Azeroth taunting them with something they could not have.
Not the reminder of how he had faced down Fahrad, devoid of a way to save him as the whispers twisted his mind.
Wrathion feels... strange. He cannot say he has ever particularly been troubled to only have himself for company, yet in the inky darkness here his own thoughts feel... loud somehow. The rooms he stands in feel big, and he feels uncommonly ill at ease.
He sends Anduin a simple message:
I'm outside.
Then waits to be let in, a ghost lurking around the window of Anduin's room in the wiseman's old abode. It seems fitting Anduin has been placed here, since he seems well suited to resolving disputes and giving advice. Then again, he'd likely been enjoying the respite -- or what limited respite he had.