Lavender Ethos lotus-eater - Printable Version

This feeling was driving her mad, and part of her felt like she should be ashamed of it. She was already erratic in nature, skittish to a point, and Lachesis had dragged her home to be around other females going through the same thing which tied a nasty knot in her stomach. She shouldn’t be around them, and they really didn’t want to be around her. She needed to do something productive but almost felt suffocated under Lachesis’ watchful eye, an eye that she felt had hardly left her since he found her at the Falls. The sparrow growled at herself slightly, irritated and agitated at the lack of contact between herself and another – another reason she felt betrayed by the heat that was rolling over her in waves.

She was fairly certain she’d actually managed to get away from him, leaving the territory yet again as her tail wagged softly from side to side, electric blue eyes gazing around at the deadened field around her, reminding herself that soon it would all be right again, and within the coming months, the flowers would start to bloom again. That was when she caught that scent, her mind starting to fade from the few thoughts she’d had on her mind to that scent: loner, male…

That small and rational part of her brain that told her to run and safely confide herself within the depths of the River’s territory was quickly overpowered like it had been with Lachesis at the falls – the only difference was this man didn’t know her like the healer and alpha did, and that likely meant he’d see nothing wrong with this kind of behavior.

She was on edge at his approach, but it was slow and he was submissive, causing her to withhold the growl she felt forming in the depths of her throat, uncertainty shining in her cobalt gaze, her banner rising softly in a display of dominance, not occurring to her that by doing so she was spreading her scent even more. Her eyes narrowed, and then he spoke. She was taken aback, quite literally taking a few steps back as she processed the question, a light shake of her head. “N-no?” The stutter came at how odd the compliment seemed to be, at least, from hearing it.

A soft smile crept across her face as she dared to take a step closer, her maw raising slightly as she peered at him, as if analyzing what he was made of. He was larger than her by far, but she knew when it came down to it, she’d be able to take him in a fight (she assumed because of her experience and a larger wolf’s tendency in the past to underestimate her capabilities because of her skittish demeanor) but at the same time, he was suave enough to talk them out of a fight before it even started.

She felt her cheeks grow hotter than they already were. “M’names Lilya… but you can call me Lil.” She murmured as she dared to take another step, still keeping distance with her display clear that she was the one in control here. “Whatcha doin’ ‘round here, Aytigin?” She asked curiously, her earthy accent accentuating the word here against the rest of the question with a low and sweet tone.

He seemed to be saying all the right things, and what small rationality was left in her brain was reminding her that she did not know this man in front of her… but since when was she a logical being? “Ya really think so?” She asked softly as she took another small step forward, and he provided a nickname in return. She preferred his full name to his nickname, she wasn’t going to lie. A small part of her screamed that his eyes were the wrong color (she preferred the paler and softer eyes), and so was his fur (she preferred the lighter end of the spectrum), and his personality was too smooth and alluring for her to pursue, but the warnings didn’t click.

She was falling right into the Casanova’s aim and she didn’t even realize it, a smirk growing on her features and her tail wagged softly as the words fell quickly from her maw without a second thought. “An’ per’aps that’s the idea.” It was evidently a tease – at this point in time she didn’t actually care what he did or did not do after this encounter was over, but it was more fun to play the part it seemed. “How do ya know the ladies don’t like a bad boy?” She asked hypothetically as she mused a few steps forward, her head starting to dip to be closer, but still not close enough for Ayti to make a move.

It had been foolish of him to think that he could keep Lilya in Hearthwood, especially with two other female’s going through the same thing she was. So, it was equally as foolish to expect the fiery sparrow to listen to him, especially when their relationship was nothing but platonic. The ghost had no hold over her—they had finally just begun to open up to each other and dive into their friendship—so he could not force her to stay within the river boundaries. Lachesis felt uncomfortable pulling rank over her, especially in her current state. He liked having both of his ears.

However, even though he knew how foolish he had been, the ghost was still furious that the girl had disobeyed him and managed to sneak away without his knowledge. His teeth gnashed together as he maneuvered through the trees, a dark line cut between his brows. XIX did not know why it made him so cross. They were friends; nothing more. But he could not help but worry about her, in her vulnerable state, being where other males could potentially take advantage of her. The thought made his blood boil; his pace quickened.

Once he finally caught onto her pungent scent his shoulders sagged in relief—until he discovered that she was not alone. A stranger had found her—a stranger who was too close to Hearthwood borders. His upper lip curled as he stalked forward, closing the distance between himself and the two wolves. He could hear them talking as he drew closer, his skin prickled beneath his pale fur. She was teasing him—something Lachesis did not even know she was capable of doing. It was all wrong, but why was it so wrong? Why did he care? It was because of their friendship… it had to be. He just didn’t want to see her get hurt. This wasn’t the Lilya he knew and he did not want her to regret something after March passed.

The ghost lurked behind the trees at the edge of the Ethos for a little longer, his toes curling into the dirt as he listened to the espresso-coloured wolf respond, his words rolling effortlessly off his tongue in a way that Lachesis had never been able to master. Which only caused his blood to boil even more. Unable to listen any longer, Lachesis strode into the clearing without warning, his chin and tail raised as he sauntered up to Lilya’s side, stopping once the pale fur on his shoulder entwined with hers. “How about you do anything I say instead,” he answered through gritted teeth, his chartreuse gaze focused on the loner, purposely avoiding the sparrow’s cerulean pools.