The Wildwood in der mitternacht

There was the slightest of pauses, only broken apart by the harsh sound of his breathing, before she responded: a quick bark. His ears twitched and he remained where he was, jaws eventually clicking shut as he caught his breath. He spotted her easily in the darkness and gave a slow blink as she approached, letting out a slow stream of breath through his nostrils, relieved that she was ok. Of course, he hadn't been given reason to think otherwise, but if he was being honest, she hadn't given him any reason not to trust her. His ears flipped back at her nonchalant little greeting. Chulyin snorted, eyes narrowing for a moment, before he shut them, tipping his head back to let out a sigh.

He was tempted to say something about how unwise it was to go wandering about in the night, but she was an adult, and certainly knew such things already. And so, again, the man was left without an answer for his appearance. Rising to his paws and opening his eyes again, he could only snort again, weaving away from her. "Save your wanderlust for the daylight hours." He grumped finally, shooting a look at her over his shoulder, before swinging his head back around as an indication that she might follow. His jaw locked as he walked, frustrated at himself for his own attitude, and yet he did nothing to remedy it. Again and again he told himself that this was how it was going to be.

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table by bryony

The Arctic female studied Chulyin's behavior, hiding her perplexity behind her frozen silver eyes. She didn't know what to make of his statue mimicry, his eyes refusing to see her and his head held away. She knew even less what to do when he snorted, opening his eyes and getting up and away from her. Quick let her nose wrinkle ever so slightly, unable to read what was causing him so much frustration. When he berated her actions she was not surprised, but at least there wasn't a violent edge to his grumpy command. Regardless of her thoughts the Guardian's gesture to follow was acted upon, without hesitation. He wasn't trying to kick her out, it seemed, so Quick decided she could overlook his behavior - as if hers made any more sense. She filled a pause with a muted sigh, debating if she wanted to say something back, before deciding that she did. "You should know I was doing the world a favor, entertaining the deranged for some time to keep them away from our border." Surprisingly enough she kept the cheek off her tongue, almost as if simply sharing that night's "adventure" with the dark-coated Guardian. Even if it was a bit of a hyperbole of what she'd done. Quick understood, too, she could eat those words if the red youth ever tracked her down by scent. Imagine the trouble she could create by even being associated with that little thing. Then again, she figured the consequences for the red wolf - should she ever show up at their borders - would be perhaps more cruel for one than the other.

The woods passed around him much slowly this time. He wondered if the moon would be on its way out by the time they made it home. But Chulyin had no room to complain. He hadn't known how far the scent was going to lead, but he'd chosen to follow it, and with every mile, he knew that he would not be getting any sleep tonight. Perhaps it was lucky then that he felt no mental exhaustion, merely physical and that was from the trip. He almost laughed at how far he'd come with so little repay. He'd had a moment to rest before they faced the journey home. But no smile graced his muzzle, not yet anyway. He was glad that she'd chosen to follow, giving no saucy response to the silent command he'd given.

For a moment, there was silence as they walked, his ears gradually lifting again, only assuming that it might last the entire journey. His jaw loosened finally, only to seize shut in a split second as her voice rang in his ears again. He allowed the beginnings of a smile to creep upon his muzzle, amused, and he found it hard to hide it. How desperately he wanted to react in full, and yet he continued to rein himself in. "Is that so?" He answered, the amusement seeping into his voice as he looked over at her, brows lifting over his eyes. Perhaps he did not want the silence to stretch, perhaps he did not want this animosity either, as self-inflicted as he made it.

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table by bryony

As they moved beneath the shadows of night she wondered if this truly was an indelible awkward situation and if she was hurting it with her casual speech. Quick was anything but an optimist, though she had been hoping that their return to the Keep would be a little less frosted than their last encounter. What she did not expect, however, was her immediate reaction following even the slightest encouragement from Chulyin. "Yes," she exclaimed, her eyes growing wide to recall exactly how peculiar that particular experience had been. She turned her head to meet his gaze and profess with utmost certainty, "Chulyin, she was so weird." Then she clamped her mouth shut and averted her stare, suddenly aware she had overstepped the boundary they had both been respecting so well. She wasn't over-sharing so much with words as she had just now with... emotion? Internally she shuddered to think of it, but for once that dreadful chaotic knotting in her stomach had not returned. Even if she didn't feel nauseous, Quick was acutely aware of how ruffled her proverbial feathers were ever since she made her way back to Hollowheart Keep. Unruffling said feathers was a task she hadn't quite managed to figure out. Quick held her jaws near close, but the pause had gone on too long. If she wanted to cover up her strange outburst, she had certainly missed her mark. Ah, well. Only Chulyin's reaction could really tell her if she had screwed up or not. In the past she had spoken easy to him, even if only in so many words. Whatever the hell was going on here and now - she blamed her feathers.

He could not quite bring himself to say the words that would send her away. Not physically, of course, but emotionally. It would have been easier for the both of them if he had, but he found himself unable to form words to hurt her. In addition, he could not stay silent either. His brain tore him to pieces, a rough internal battle that he felt that he would lose no matter what. They were packmates, they were family...And left with no other option, he could only be kind to her. His nostrils flared at her outburst, the whites of his eyes somewhat visible as he gave her a sideways glance. Why is it so hard for you to be happy? The man asked himself, setting his sights ahead again. But he knew the answer to that question.

"Weird?" He asked, hoping to encourage her on. The man would test these waters, these warm waters and see if he might survive in them. But Chulyin had little hope that he might stay afloat, for he had been pulled beneath the waves many times before. "I suppose we ought to be watching out for weird wolves then." The man was only half-joking in his words. As a guardian, of course, it was his duty to ensure the safety of all, and so he hoped that she might divulge more about this funny creature.

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table by bryony

Her tail flicked pleasantly as he did not spurn her outburst, but rather contributed to the conversation. Either he was very good at hiding how he was feeling (in which Quick assumes he hates her - heh heh) or he was actually starting to forgive her for that winter's blunders. For a moment she felt a flicker of hope in her chest. It had felt like those cold months would never thaw, but look what had happened - the ice always melted, eventually... Besides, she would much rather walk in the spring thaw than the winter chill. "You never know," she opined. "With the weird ones you can't be sure what's going on in their head - they're unpredictable." Quick failed to pick up on the pot calling kettle black here, and simply smiled with vague amusement. To tell the truth her memory of the encounter was starting to seem like a hazy dream. The red wolf had been so out of touch with reality. Quick was fervent that this was true. Her own childhood memories were so foggy and forgotten that she couldn't recall any time when others had possessed fantastical minds. It only made sense that she was weird, plain and simple. Briefly she allowed her silver gaze to wander over to the night-shaded Guardian. He wasn't weird. She just didn't get him, that's all. Then she recalled something else about the leaf-character and once more, lacked the filter to stop it from popping from her mouth. "And I'm pretty sure she called me Cottonball." Distaste hung in her words. She was still a little offended at that.

In the time since she'd come back, Chulyin had had time to think about her excuse and its legitimacy. Until she disappeared, he had really been given no reason to mistrust her, perhaps other than a lack of familiarity. If Naira had disappeared in the middle of a storm...If...He thought to Aponi and Mercy, and how that was exactly what had befallen them, and the pack had gone to bits searching for them. And yet this woman had disappeared as well, in the midst of this terrible winter, and he had done nothing. Hatred towards her seemed to be nothing more than a front for his own shame that he had failed in his duty. It seemed as though that was all he could manage lately: failure. A heavy sigh burst through his nostrils and he was too caught up in his own thoughts to realize that it could have been taken the wrong way.

To heave in such a manner made him feel a bit better, like some weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Another problem solved, another suspect in shackles...Of course, the shackled was he. But there was something satisfying about coming into the light, so to speak. Even though the finger was pointed squarely at him, he felt no strain, because he now knew what the problem was. "Cottonball?" He repeated, pausing midstep to look at her. "'s not bad." Musing, he began to walk again, appearing somewhat thoughtful about the silly nickname bestowed upon her.

(i think i can tell chulyin has a serious thing for quick, because his posts are just ALL over the place haha)

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heh heh heh, it's cause they're just a big ol mess themselves <3

table by bryony

In the pauses of their conversation Chulyin was caught in his own reflection, Quick could only wonder what was going on beneath that exterior. How easily he could be frightening, she thought. Was it duty that he was so keen to? Or perhaps, it was passion... She nearly scoffed at herself, subconsciously wondering if this was some kind of projection of herself and her wants... 'cause she wasn't picking up on any solid hints here. For the record, Quick was hardly putting out any of her own, still clenching her jaw when she tried to think about it. Chulyin was the only one she talked to... the only one she wanted to talk to. Whenever any one else came around she always showed her teeth and denied their company, like that little red wolf, but she wasn't keen on chasing him off. Was it because they were pack? Family? Something? When he paused a step she continued one more, craning her neck to peer over her shoulder coyly at him. At least, it was a coy look until her brows raised and she lifted her head dismissively. Not bad? Really? With a toss of her neck she looked forward again, as if offended, but continued home with a half-hearted laugh to deny the offense. "Do you think?" She probed with a side-glance. "Let us find her and see what she'd like to call you, then. Just to be fair." For fairness or for a funny nickname to call him whenever she could - either reason was plausible.

He let her take the lead, quietly thankful since his legs were still somewhat achy. Chulyin was certain that he probably would never fully recover from the terrible winter, mainly that trip down the mountain. His legs had taken much wear and tear, and while it didn't bother him daily, he found himself over-exerted often. Easily, he met her cold eyes, keeping his own gaze high, somewhat coy, especially in light of the topic. When she took offense, he scoffed right back at her, his lips a rather hard line. He was holding back, he really was. As his legs propelled him forward again, he let the smile play lightly upon his lips, since she couldn't presently see it. He gave a half-hearted nod and shrug, "I think it's pretty appropriate, Cottonball." Cautiously, the man teased in his rough tones. It sounded somewhat uncomfortable; this was something that he certainly never did.

"Actually," He began, picking up his pace just a bit to walk along side her, head held high like a showhorse. "What do you think she'd call me?" He huffed, giving her a sideways glance, ever curious, ever challenging. "That's pretty fair and all, don't you think? You probably gotta better brain for it." He began to lengthen his stride a tiny bit, on the off-chance she found him a little more offensive this time. He had no doubt that she'd easily outrun him, especially in his present condition, but if he was a little prepared he might have some advantage.

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table by bryony

His face held on to the facade, but she could see the light in his golden eyes denying the stony exterior. The static in the air was finally fizzling out. Now the surroundings felt cool, and easy. No longer trudging through a wreck of confusion in her brain, the Arctic's steps became light, her gait relaxed and her tail began to swing faintly, a gesture of contentedness. She was forgiving if he was not so familiar with this new dynamic they were exploring. The fact that Chulyin had just called her Cottonball, even if his tone was somewhat strained, was so absurd that she couldn't help but allow a grin to twitch from the corners of her blackened lips. As his stride increased Quick subconsciously allowed her own to slow, so he would join her at her side easily. Chulyin held his head high, clearly about to pull something - so when he posed the question she was only half surprised. Quick acknowledged it with a snort of laughter, half-rolling her silver eyes as he slyly mentioned her brain might be suited for those nicknames. "I think you mean to insult me, but I'm going to let it slide," she assured him, the joking nature of her chastisement clear in her tone. She hopped forward, catching up after he'd increased the distance between them to suit the riskiness of his statement. Then, rather than dismissing the idea - which she probably would have if the spirit of their encounter hadn't changed - the snowy wolf actually gave it a good think. "I don't know," she pondered, her thoughts flowing freely and quickly off her tongue. "Shadow? Stormcloud. Charcoal? Blackie?" The last one wasn't so creative but Quick was never really great on the spot. She sidled up closer to him to add an extra dash of obnoxiousness to her further goading: "And since I'm so nice, I will let you pick the option you like." Whether she would actually use the one he picked, well, that was a different question!