His hand caresses her, ignoring his personal need for more and simply basking in the quietness that was her such a strange turn of events for the one who had caused such a demise was now the one putting these pieces back together. One would believe the pair had been together for years, an invisible bond linking them together. This is not the case. The two share more similarities than the scars that swarm along their bare and drying bodies. There is some sort of demented part of him that feels he might need her. Love was not something he was capable of, but a need, a want that he is able to feel on many levels. Never one to need anything though, you could understand as to why this was all just too much for him.

But how coolly the lost soul plays it off.

She invades his mind, with that simple hum of hers and he finds she invades more than that. He merely replies with a squeeze of his burly hand upon her arm. He is hungry, his stomach told him that much but he does not wish to leave this bed. Fatigue has become him now, eyelids half closed as he breathes silently. It has been such a long time since he has had a good nights sleep or a good sleep at all. His twisted mind usually so clouded with the howls and screams of others that he has yet to feel the relief he feels now. The viking is wary, her gentle presence enough to draw out a relaxation in him he has never known. Do not be fooled though, these big cats look sweet now, resting and cuddled up in the gentle rays of the morning sun. but just like their feline counterparts, they are feral, crazed and if you draw to close they will kill.

She speaks again and he allows his hazy gaze to fall down upon her. Reluctantly and with an animalistic grumble he untangles himself from her. For a minute he sits on the edge of his bed, fingers rubbing those eyes before the massive man rises to stretch, bones cracking delightfully. Refreshing. He moves to the tall dresser near the door, sliding top drawer open to grab a pair of dark boxers and sliding them on. Of course he prefers his nudity, but it seems too much to eat breakfast with it out and about like it was. The second drawer is where he goes next, grabbing a white tee shirt and smirking slightly. She was going to drown in this.

The viking moves back to her, coming to sit beside her on the bed "lift up your arms." if she were to obey, which seems likely but he was sure he would get some sort of shit for it, he would clothe her, putting her hands through the sleeves until his shirt draped on her like a dress. He smirks again, the closest thing to a smile she may receive from the brooding monster. He stands then, leaning over her before sliding an arm under her legs and behind her back. With ease he slides her off of the bed and into his chest. "You're coming with me" he says simply, moving her from the bedroom into his kitchen. It is massive, yes, far too big for one man but like stated earlier, he rarely dwells here.

He places her on the counter next to the stove, head lowering to place a small bite on her earlobe before releasing her to start the task at hand. The refrigerator is like a fat person's wonderland which only make sense because dvaerg is a massive hulk of a man. Before long eggs, flour, butter, syrup, bacon, hashbrowns, and sausage litter the counter along with mixing bowls and pots and pans. Rubbing his palms together, he flicks a sideways glance at her. "watch, and learn." the viking has more up his sleeve than what has already been seen.

Iórkæll dværg