Prompt #12 – Oct. 21st, 2014: While on vacation, your character is bothered by the noises of unfamiliar animals. It sounds more like language each night, and the conversations aren’t about anything pleasant.
(( A silly moment from Xeula’s past. Mikkruutov is Mikkaelos’ father. ))
"Xeula," her name sounded more like a groggy rumble of a groan than it did actual spoken language. A subdued creak issued from the bed as Mikkruutov rolled from his back to his side. One hand knuckled in his temple to prop up his head as the other groped sluggishly in the dark. Silken peaks and valleys slipped beneath his touch, the sheets beside him a lustrous, but empty, landscape. Where was she? His fingers knocked against a familiar shape at the far edge of the bed: the warm curl of a tail resting against the curve of a thigh. “Xeula,” he murmured more clearly this time.
"Shh," she hissed very quietly. Her shape cut a lovely silhouette against the dim light that fought its way around curtain edges. Alertness had her sitting upright with her back to him, one ear angled towards the windows. Mikkruutov could see the faint cast of Light fall from her eye to her cheek with the partial turn of her head. "They’re back. Listen."
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