m e k h i (incomplete)

t w e n t y

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t w e n t y 

The sun swung low, a yellow hue stroking the walls of the Palace, softly billowing upon the gravel on the courtyard. It had only begun to rise, showering it's warmth across half the grass upon the acres of land, that other half still wallowing in deep shadows.

A bright mist is placed over the surface of the world. The skies were a little clearer today, a beautiful shade of bright baby blue, with a few white and fluffy clouds roaming the domain, slow in their journey, large and majestic.

Activity spurred at the foot of the Vampire Palace's entrance, cars being pulled over and their trunks being packed with belongings.

It was a little after the morning breakfast Lance had hosted, which was delightful and light to the stomach, and Mekhi had decided to take his leave, alongside with the rest of the lycans he had brought with.

Alden was busy stuffing items into the trunk, head turned away from both of the King's who lingered a little away from him. They were both talking in hushed tones, deep in conversing and gratitude. It was then the general had an inkling they'd be seeing more of Lance soon.

His thoughts are spurred, lycan picking up the scent of his favourite wolf. The grin comes easy to his lips, wide and deep, dark hues falling onto the small female padding down the marble steps, brushing past the King. Alden doesn't miss the way Mekhi's fingers pick the hem of her hoodie, only to have his arm fall back to his side.

The female has a pout on her lips, brows furrowed. She had gone to check the room she had stayed in one last time for any missing items. She had managed to find some article of clothing, giving that to general, who stows it away neatly.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" it's murmured in a warm tone, muscled arms closing the trunk shut. His arms come around her, watching a sigh fall from her lips.

"I think I've broken it," it's mumbled, eyes wide. Her tone is soft and quiet, and her expression only makes the general chuckle.

"Broken what?" he presses, leaning a tall frame down to rest his chin on her shoulder.

"My little toe," it's a whine. She flexes her right foot up, eyes narrowed.

"Toe?" the general repeats in disbelief, watching her nod.

"Yes. I stubbed it at the foot of the bed, when I was checking underneath it," a harder pout, and her face winces at the memory of it.

Alden has to stop himself from cackling, swallowing it down and trying to maintain his composure. His features betray him, still curving into amusement. Without warning, he's propped her right leg up to his chest, fingers untying the shoelace, and throwing the trainer away.

"Alden," it's a squeal, having trouble keeping upright. Her fingers grab whatever she can find, the material of his shirt. He only shoots her another grin.

"I'm not that flexible," it's a sigh, and he shrugs.

"You'll have to be," his tone sings, but it goes over her head, and she shoots him a confused look. He responds with a smirk, before clasping his fingers around her ankle, observing the small toe.

"You'll be just fine my little shortcake," putting her sock and trainer back on, and letting her be. The wolf gives him a soft glare.

"Don't call me that," it's a huff, placing her palms on his torso, attempting to push him over.