[Bren -- or Caleb for that matter -- in any form would quite happily be domesticated by Essek, and only by Essek. For the drow, for his soulmate, he would be a lapdog. For anyone else? Anyone who thought they could threaten his mate or his home or any of the absolutely strange as hell little family that Essek seemed to have gathered around himself as staff, well, Bren would tear them to pieces without hesitation.
But for now? He was playing the part of pampered pet -- a part that he had never played before, and certainly not on the night of the full moon. So Bren was a very well behaved boy, even managing to resist the urge to shake himself dry once he was out of the water.
He'd instead let himself be towel dried and brushed and.
Well. He was now the fluffiest, shiniest werewolf that he personally had ever seen. And he smelled like the lingering scent of Essek's perfume and that was a gift.]
no subject
But for now? He was playing the part of pampered pet -- a part that he had never played before, and certainly not on the night of the full moon. So Bren was a very well behaved boy, even managing to resist the urge to shake himself dry once he was out of the water.
He'd instead let himself be towel dried and brushed and.
Well. He was now the fluffiest, shiniest werewolf that he personally had ever seen. And he smelled like the lingering scent of Essek's perfume and that was a gift.]