The moment he had stalked away his intention had been to seek out a more secluded area of the Ridge lands. To curl up.. to disregard any feelings or emotions he had felt. To allow the sun to rise and wash away this darkened feeling that clung so heavy to his chest now. The realization that the woman he had wanted to build his life with had not chosen him, but the lowest of the pack. The wolf she had once spoken to with rage and hatred in her heart. But the twisted ending of this so called fairytale was more than he could swallow, and come daylight, the ivory male found himself stretched beneath a tree within the meadows.


Grey clouds rolled overhead, threatening to give way to a wet snow, given the warming of the land. Uncaring, Phineas remained, still like a statue, his eyes cast upon nothing more than a gentle blade of brown grass that so dared to peak itself out from beneath the thin remaining snow.


It dawned on him suddenly what a waste his time had been these past few months – Willow Ridge did not hold the promise he had so dreamed of, and within its walls he would not hold children; nor did he feel he could look upon her face any longer and not feel a burning sadness, mixed with what could have been described as resentment.


Phineas Argyris was once more upon the meadows as if it had been summer once more and he had just witnessed his beloved with another man.

His misery lead him to little thought outside of the failures of his life – his age could only prove such, and while in his distinct prime now, the ivory wolf had little to show for such. Perhaps, at the end of the day, that was the worst burden of all. His birth pack, once his legacy, now rested in the uncapable paws of a wolf he had once called brother, while his children of past had turned out to be false in their bloodlines. He had loved the boys no less because of it, but there had been no place for him in the meadows, and so the Argyris wolf had turned paw and left within the darkness of the night.. only to come upon a scenario that was only too familiar, despite being less deceitful.


His name was called, and abruptly he glanced up, knowing the tone to be familiar. Of course, a weary heart had expected Elettra, come to tell him that their conversation before had been a lie and Kiche’s seed did not stir life within her now.


Yet it was not the dark fae that refused to abandon his mind that came to him now, and the bright pumpkin eyes of the slender and pale figure of Borlla came to him as if from a dream. He regarded her quietly, taking in her beauty with an appreciation he had yet to fully offer her given where his feelings had lied before. Yet there she was – a thinner version of what he knew she would be had she been in full health within the heart of a pack. The myriad of creams and greys that adorned her slender figure; the brightness of her gaze.. the hesitant confidence she exuded. “Borlla,” he murmured in turn, attempting to clear away the sorrow of his tone as he spoke her name. Shifting, he lifted himself up, trailing closer to her now as the grey clouds of the sky that so dulled the land and his mood before became forgotten. Her scent was intoxicating, and his eyes fell upon her with something new within them.

She seemed to sense that something was amiss with the male – this stirred further passion within the male, that she would even notice such a thing. It seemed he could drown in his emotions within Willow Ridge and none would come to aide him; least of all Elettra. Yes, he had played such a fool.


She strode forward to meet him, and as he crept closer, the male would allow his tail to sweep through the cool winter air, his muzzle bending as he just barely grazed his nose to her cheek, inhaling her scent sharply. He took a step closer then, running his muzzle along the length of her cheek to rest within the thick fur of her neck, and it was here he sought solace. Borlla. He knew nothing about her, and yet his mind clouded to her now, the heat of the breeding season causing his muscles to tense.


He did not respond to her words right away, though a small chuckle escaped him; senseless. Lost. “Yes,” he agreed, not willing to lie to the she-wolf before him. Borlla did not deserve craft or calculation. “I had thought to court a she-wolf within Willow Ridge, but it seems she has turned to another to scratch a more primal urge,” he murmured, uncertain how she would take such news.


“I wish for nothing more than a home to call my own and a family to be at my side. Cubs to raise – a she-wolf to love.” It was now he pulled back, his eyes searching her own bright tangerine. “I do not think that life will exist.”

Her reaction to him was almost nervous at first – for a moment, his mind spun to this small insight. Was it his touch that caused her to stiffen so? The words he had departed with her upon their last meeting? He had meant exactly what he had said last time, and yet now, thinking back on, they held a new meaning to him. She relaxed then at his touch – seemingly accepting him and placing forth the desire to listen to a friend in need. Borlla, bewitching with her pale tawny fur that neared so close to a pristine ivory, and the brightness of her eyes that matched his own.



But his words had caused her to shift slightly, and Phineas pulled his muzzle back to regard her gently. Had he hurt her? Did he imagine that she could be hurt by his confession of interest to another woman? He had never considered truly that the she-wolf before him would be taken aback by such, and only then did it stir within him a further attraction to her.


He knew nothing about her. She was a lone wolf that had called Relic Lore home before, and while she seemed haunted by it, Phineas could not tell if such was his mind playing simple tricks. Yet here they stood; her without a home, and he with a home he no longer wished to return to.



But her words were unsuspected, and the ivory male stilled as their eyes met. She offered herself to him – so purely and wholly that he wasn’t sure if he fully understood her meaning. If she even understood it. He swallowed then, feeling the surge of longing course through him and his eyes trailed across her pelt, studying the delicate intricate patterns of her beauty. “Borlla,” he murmured, taking a step closer, his muzzle grazing against hers gently before shifting to course along her nape. His body moved forward then, pressing closer to her as the desire of spring came to him. “Borlla, are you sure?”

Her words need not give way to her consent – the flick of her tail that stirred her heat to the air caused the male to intake his breath sharply, his fiery eyes grazing over her features with passion and a plea – to give him the spoken word he so craved.


She complied, and the words she gave seemed to reveal no hesitance to what this would mean for either of them. He moved then, not speaking, his large figure brushing against the pale slenderness of her own. Placing his scent upon her and claiming her as his.


Gentle nips cast out from his muzzle, raining themselves down upon her flesh in heated desire. Forgotten now were his troubles, his thoughts. Right now he lived in the moment, and that moment was Borlla and Borlla alone.


His gaze sought her out as he manoeuvred himself to nestle behind her. As naturally as mother nature intended, Phineas lifted himself then, bracing his paws to her sides. He gave pause, allowing her to speak if her mind was changed, and when he was met with only encouraging silence, the male finally claimed her as his own.


The clouds shifted above, proof that a storm was ever nearing, and yet the male would pay no mind to such a thing.. not until hours later, when he would nudge the slender she-wolf from his embrace. They would find shelter for the day, and from there, they would begin a new life.