Sex: MaleHearthwood River. He didn't think he was familiar with the place. It would make sense if it was a place in the north and he had always been south. His head gave a gentle nod of understanding. He was no stranger to coming and going from places. Often times it wounded him into some sort of mess but he liked to think he was past all of that. It was why he had left the south.
"Well..." The large male trailed off as he gave it a bit of thought. "There's the mountain but I've never been on the other side of it. Always west." He explained while glancing over at his perfumed partner. "All different kinds of trees in the midwest. The occasional field too. Lots of open areas south of the willows." He shut his mouth with hopes he wasn't boring her. The male wasn't very good with words of explaining things. Hopefully he had painted a well enough picture for her.
For a brief moment, he had forgotten they were supposed to be looking for a meal for her. "Think you wanna stick to the west?"
Lekalta slowed her pace for a moment, her nose quivering as she scented something, though while vaguely familiar, she couldn’t quite place it. She gave a silent nod as the smell became stronger, and the honeyed she-wolf began to weave through the sleeping foliage, not fully blossomed yet for spring. The sun continued to set, and it was possible they would need to settle down hungry for the night – but she was keen to determine what she was tracking.
She remained listening to her companion, though he didn’t seem to dwell on the topic much. Open areas wasn’t something that interested her much, having been a wolf raised in the Kingswood with its majestic trees. Casting her eyes up to him, she tipped her muzzle thoughtfully, sweeping her tail behind her as she resisted simpering up closer to him. Just the season, she considered. “Where do you want to go?”
are you deranged like me? are you strange like me?
lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?
do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?
His nostrils flared as she swept her tail like it was nothing. Did she not see the way it made him tense? He was half tempted to stick his head into the ground until he could no longer smell her. Maybe it had been a bad idea for him to have trailed after her like some needy pup.
Her words danced in his ears, making his own tail give a few eager waves. "Is 'wherever you go' an appropriate answer?" He asked with a serious gaze. "Or is it too soon to say that?" Deacon was not about to keep throwing himself into her presence if she did not wish for him to be around.
"Perhaps we should further discuss things after finding that meal you want." He rumbled before taking a few long strides forward, briefly stealing the lead in order to trail after the scent that didn't belong to his company.
Lekalta noted the flare of his nostrils – naïve as she could be at times, and while knowing her scent would permeate the air rather thickly, the Baranski took it only that he too had scented what she had begun to trail. At his comment, she gave a small laugh, unable to keep the amusement from dancing in her eyes as she cast a quick glance to him. They knew so little about one another – essentially nothing, really – but she found herself grateful she had bumped in to him. There was an ease to their budding friendship, and she found her gaze trailing over the large black wolf with consideration.
“Too soon.. Hmm. I don’t know. I imagine I would be pretty bored without having such a charismatic and chatty fellow to keep me company.” And, if her suspicion was correct, to keep her safe. Her tone held a teasing lilt to it, and she tipped her muzzle down impishly, allowing him to stride ahead of her, but not without casting a small nip toward his side as he did so.
Her eyes looked to the sky as they trailed the scent, the darkness that now painted the sky streaking shadows across the frozen ground. “It smells like lemming,” she finally realized, her voice hushing. “I wonder where the little imp is hiding..”
are you deranged like me? are you strange like me?
lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?
do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?
He smirked and tossed a glance over his shoulder as she nipped at his side. It was more contact than he had been expecting but perhaps he should have almost expected it. Especially after her slobbery thank you kiss from earlier. "I don't know if I'm either of those things but if you think I am then I'll stick around." Until she got bored of him or they found better things than each other. It was the way things went.
The large male noticed the hushed volume of her voice and so he would follow suit. "You might do better chasing it." He admitted because it was obvious she'd be faster with her smaller, lean frame. Deacon had no idea what that would leave him to do. Maybe he could flush it out or pretend to chase after it with her.
Amused by his response, she flashed him another smirk, though sobered as the discussion drifted back to their hunt. The life of a lone wolf was not ideal, and if they were to live on meagre meals such as lemmings, they would expend a lot of energy to simply stay alive. It was certainly a conversation to be had.
She nodded quietly in agreement to his suggestion she give chase to it – they could be wily creatures, and she wasn’t overly confident it would be a successful hunt for them. Her eyes scanned before her, and finally, she caught a flash of silver white, weaving through the foliage.
She paused, and bumping her shoulder gently to her companions, she motioned he should cut off one of its escape routes – another done so by a tree. Still, as she began to pick up her pace, she could see the small rodent would have other means to wiggle its way from their grasp.
Her eyes drifted toward Deacon, seeing where his position was now – thankfully, they were thus far silent enough that the creature hadn’t seemed to notice their presence.
are you deranged like me? are you strange like me?
lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?
do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?
He followed her motioning. His large form merged away from her to go and block an exit path. Perhaps if it came his way then they'd get lucky and it would run right into his prepared jaws. He heavily doubted that they would get that lucky but it didn't hurt to be at least a little optimistic.
His stance was a bit wide, considering it was only a lemming they were dealing with. The large male made sure to avoid any crunchy spots of snow or dense parts of foliage. He wasn't prepared to deal with being the one to chase away her wanted meal.
Amber gaze looked around to find where Lekalta was located and once he did he would offer a nod. A sign that he was ready whenever she was.
Her talents did not include catching particularly small creatures. Lekalta had been a pack wolf her entire life – even during her time away from Hearthwood River, she had joined a small pack for the winter. The only exception had been her recent time out, and the need for space – to place her head back in the ‘game,’ so to speak.
Her movements were lithe – but not necessarily silent enough. The crunch beneath her paw finally indicated her presence to the lemming, and the moment it’s small eyes darted back to her, she leapt, her agile form skirting to block it from the route it wished to take, and driving it toward Deacon instead. If they could at least trap it between both of them, they would have a better chance of at least having a snack. Her jaws ducked lower, snapping at the creature’s body, though squarely missing as her teeth clicked on empty air. She did not stumble, but she did continue to drive it toward her companion, hoping the lemming made a misstep on the way.
are you deranged like me? are you strange like me?
lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?
do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?
They were coming right for him and he didn't know how to react. He had figured she'd be the lucky one and manage to get one good bite at it. He shuffled about in his spot some, preparing for the small creature to weave around him since it was trapped between two wolves. His jaws were parted and his head was low to the ground, eager to meet the lemming.
Feverishly he snapped his jaws where he thought the lemming was although he was a bit too soon in his timing as the creature successfully escaped him. Part of him knew it wouldn't stop running until it was far from the duo and that it would kill energy to go chasing them. The other part felt rather guilty he hadn't done well on his end.
An apologetic glance was thrown in the direction of Lekalta, hoping she'd understand.
The lemming had evaded her jaws as well as her partners. As it skirted away, Lekalta’s pace slowed, bemusement gracing her features as she considered their predicament. They could continue to chase it, but it would expend more energy than its worth, and the night sky painted darkness across the fjord.
Deacon glanced at her, and she gave a shrug – it was to be expected. They were new to one anothers company, and had yet to learn to work so intricately together. “Wasn’t he fucking squiggly,” she murmured, her eyes glancing to her companion before she gave a nod. “We should probably find someplace to settle for the night.” She skirted past him then, her tail flicking down so as to maintain her scent from him.
After a trialing few days, the honeyed she-wolf found herself exhausted. Hunger was simply an ebbing nuisance – her fatigue, however, could not be ignored so easily, and when they found a decent place to rest, Lekalta pressed herself against a tree as a wall, pushing away the fact she missed the thrum of the river in the hearthwood.
are you deranged like me? are you strange like me?
lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?
do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?