#echo;henrick

who: Henrick and Echo ( @echoagainst ) 

“What. The fuck. Are you doing?” 

When he’d seen her during the battle, he’d felt a brief flash of panic, alarm. He knew she could handle herself, but what worried him more was the side she was fighting for.

And the implications that held.

He’d seen the moment she’d been injured, and had had to hold himself back from sprinting over to rip the head right off the shoulders of the person who’d hurt her. But he’d found some restraint, and had resigned himself to tracking her down once everything was over. 

There was blood dripping from his temple, dirt and bruises and scrapes littered across his body, and everything ached. What he needed was rest so that his wounds could heal.

Instead he’d spent an hour looking for Echo after the battle - only to find her ankle-deep in a fountain of all things.

The ridiculousness of finding her in a fountain made him want to laugh, but he found that he couldn’t.

“You’re hurt,” he stated, simply. 

who: Henrick and Echo ( @echoagainst )

Henrick hadn’t been to a place like this in a long time. He still wasn’t entirely sure why he was there - for a distraction? Possibly. To take a woman home later that night? Likely. 

As it was, however, he was scaring most people away with his general demeanour. He kept to his corner booth, glowering as he nursed a drink. He didn’t exactly look very inviting. Every time one of the strippers looked at him, one of the muscles in his face would twitch. 

When one of them began to approach his booth, he went still. She was probably coming to tell him he needed to leave. That his general werewolf surliness was stinking up the place. He wouldn’t be surprised. He didn’t tear his gaze away from her though; he wouldn’t be intimidated.

Besides, she was beautiful. He wanted to take his time admiring her.

an ocean storm that you watch from your window, an odd sense of calm amidst the raging winds and crashing waves; cold crisp air that burns your lungs and wakes you up; dirt under your nails you just can't get rid of but you don't seem to mind; the silky feel of water rolling down your skin

Henrick is drawn in by Echo in a way he can't describe. He's never been a fan of people. He cares for family, and pack - and sometimes there's an overlap between the two - but never has he worried about caring for anyone else.

Until now.

He wants to know more about her. He feels this urge to keep her by his side - not as a trophy or a conquest, but as an equal.