She brought forth the subject of children again, and the man withheld a sigh, answering her with the straightest tone he could muster. <b style="color:#a51919">"My duty is to my pack." It was as simple as that. To have children of his own would require challenging his sister, his Queen. Such a thing went against everything that he'd sworn. But once that was out of the way, then came the second question. The question he could not evade, or so he thought for a silent moment. Another oath. The man shifted his shoulder shuffling carefully, before he got to his paws to circle around her again, striding up behind her, only to lie down again, at her back. Her evasive words still hung in the air, but perhaps he could silence them with her initial desire.

Though it was not his own, he had taken great care to please the man that held his sister's heart. Though he was not sure of the consequences of divulging such information, he thought it wise not to find out. His side was pressed against the line of her spine now, and he slid his head up along her neck. It was odd, to say the least, certainly not anything he truly enjoyed doing, although he could not lie in noting that she was, in fact, much warmer than the air around them. His fur was still damp, he hardly noticed it now against her own warmth. <b style="color:#a51919">"This was a wise idea." He muttered, teeth close to her ear. Although he felt no shame, instead, he felt guilt. Certainly this woman would not be so easily swayed, so he repeated, <b style="color:#a51919">"I am a guardian of these lands." <b style="color:#a51919">

<b style="color:#a51919">"That would be wrong," The man said, very matter-of-factly. Of course, there were ways around it. In the heat of the moment, one could lose their senses. Chulyin was certain that he was above that. His loyalty to his family, to his pack, would be his shield. This was all an act, his closeness to this woman. She could believe what she wanted about it, but Chulyin would probably never see her again after this. The man was immune to the charms of woman, or so he thought. If she was from the Ridge, then it truly was unlikely that their paths would cross again. He lowered his muzzle from her ear, brushing his nose against her cheek in a brief movement, before letting it settle against her neck.

To her clever words, he grunted, perhaps a laugh, perhaps not. She no longer went after his origins, and now the sudden lack of space between them was unnecessary. Temptation told him to draw away, yet something in his mind kept him stuck to the spot. But why? This woman was not family, nor pack, nor distance friend, and yet here they were, glued to each other. Nothing about it felt wrong, yet nothing felt entirely right either. The man, the distant cold man, who found discomfort in an excess of speech, was pressed quite intimately against a stranger from a pack that was not his own. There was no affection, at least in his mind as it currently processed, and yet he felt the mildest inklings of desire. Even the coldest winters had to end... <b style="color:#a51919">

Some searched for fun, others for honor. Chulyin was the later. His life was methodical, calculated, serious. He longed to please, to serve, to obey. That was his life, that was what he lived for. And to each their own. His judgements were kept to himself, were held within. Not once had he showed discomfort, unless she'd somehow been able to decipher an errant ear flap. Whatever her desires were in life, be it desire or perhaps hers were not unlike his own despite the way she acted and spoke, he would not be the one to truly judge her.

His head withdrew, no longer in contact with her neck or any part of her anatomy, eyes shifting slightly as though he'd lost track of the time. The chilly air drifted over him, though it was lacking the earlier bite it had had earlier when he'd still been so wet. The sun was a bit higher than it had been before his plunge, and he knew he had to go. <b style="color:#a51919">"Yes. Thank you, Narcissa." He said evenly, slowly getting his legs beneath him, and rising, taking a delicate step away from her resting form. Not in a such a way that could be mistaken as disgust, but he merely didn't want to draw attention to himself or imply that she had to get up.

<b style="color:#a51919">"Thank you," He repeated, bowing his head, unsure of what else to say. Their conversation had come so easy before he'd moved, but now he felt as though his mind weighed a million pounds. He wasn't a stupid man, but the way he lived was so strict that certain thoughts never even crossed his mind. And yet there they were now, pirouetting around in his brain. If it were possible for him to be blowzy he would have...Rising up from his small bow, he strode past her, suddenly intent on putting much distance between them and a stream or four.<b style="color:#a51919">