Cedarwood Forest slow dance in the quicksand

Daylight had turned to dusk in the time since he’d first met this strange, alluring, intriguing woman. However, their venture was one Artyom certainly considered a success. They had managed to snag not one, but two hares - one in each of their possession. Sizable ones for the season, at that. How they managed to find things to eat when all of the vegetation was either dead or buried under piles of snow, he didn’t know.

He wasn’t going to question it either. What he did desire, though (aside from the obvious), was shelter. Though he wasn’t cold anymore, per say, rather than drying off, the dampness to his fur had instead morphed into ice. Little crystals clung stubbornly to his thick fur along his forelimbs and chest. Which he desperately wanted to remove, especially in the presence of a beautiful woman.

But he could worry about that later, after they’d enjoyed their meals. That was.. if it was even a concern after that. He hoped not. Whatever this probably risky dance was, he didn’t want it to end. It was too thrilling.

He wasted no time tucking into his meal, though. After, of course, a nod of approval toward his company. To genuinely acknowledge her performance and ability.

-same day as this thread, later that night. For @Torah

The sun was sinking behind the trees, fading off beyond the horizon. The small wolf clutching tight to her prize, hackles bristled ever so slightly. Torah trusted the man to stick to his own rabbit, especially given that they had helped one another. Still, the hunger pains lead her to be more possessive than she might've been if not a loner. While she couldn't be bothered with his looks at the moment she'd noticed the way his fur had clumped up into frozen strands.

The woman relaxed a little at his nod, the man digging into his own plump hare. She started to munch on her own when a mischievous, although risky, thought crossed her pretty little mind. Quietly she rose up to dainty paws and stalked forward to him, still holding her own rabbit as if to show she wasn't coming in to take his. No, she had a different idea. Torah inched up to the male, hoping to catch him off guard, and placed a paw on either side of him. It was dangerous, given she had so much of her underside exposed, and didn't know the male well. While standing over him she dropped her meal off to the side. The position she had was definitely dominant, but Torah didn't intend for it to be aggressive in the slightest.

She leaned down to pull his ear before skirting off of him. Giving a playful expression, brow raised, practically prancing in a victorious sort of way. What would he do? Would he get her back? She chuffed at him, then laid down teeth ripping through the fur of her own meal. She was inches from being pressed against him, tauntingly close, eyes observing his reaction. It'd be a lie to say she wasn't worried the male would reciprocate with anger, she had gravely encroached. He had the physical advantaged. Her face didn't reflect these feelings, nor did her tail as it thumped against the snow.

SHE WALKS. "SHE SPEAKS." SHE THINKS

The smaller the creature, the bolder its spirit

"Are you ready for, ready for A perfect storm, perfect storm?"

They both ate in silence. No words were spoken, but there was far from nothing going on between them. Artyom noticed the moment the woman shifted and rose, clutching her kill. Moving closer, placing a paw on either side of him. Blue eyes met blue, and he was fully enraptured. Captivated, smiling a little. He decided to trust her, for her underside and neck was exposed. If he’d harbored ill will, all it would take was one lunge.

But he didn’t. Quite the opposite, if anything. Then there was a little ear nip. Briefly, his expression and eyes shown with surprise, but his smile grew a little. The woman stepped back with a small little dance. He shifted a little, as she settled close to him.

Took a bite out of his meal, but his focus never really left her.

Arty noticed a tiny detail. A few specs of debris and dirt caught in her fur. Probably as a result of their hunt, so he moved. Pressed against her shoulder, and would quickly but meticulously groom them out if she’d let him, before pulling back.

”You’re beautiful,” he couldn’t help but breathe out. It was something she probably knew and had heard dozens of times before. But he had to say it.

Torah could feel her muscles soften when the male did not retaliate and became aware of the fact that she'd been so stiff in the first place. The relief was short-lived. Blue orbs watched him approach cautiously.

He caught her off guard with his affection and she all but melted at his touch, a soft rumble coming forth from her chest. The woman leaned into him, eyes shutting, a peaceful look upon her face. The hare was momentarily forgotten about. She shivered and not from the cold. The itchiness of her pelt begged to be resolved. Torah whined when he pulled back, something she herself hadn't expected. Her ears flattened from embarrassment.

His words elicited a smile, followed by a roll of the eyes. She had heard it all before. They came with the same sweet words to try and sway her one way or another. Still...coming from such a fine man...it was nice to hear. "Flattery can only get you so far." She teased, winking at him. Their game wasn't over yet. Torah smirked and returned to her meal.

By the time she was done the tawny fur on her mouth was bloody and the sun had completely disappeared. She sat up and peered into the darkness, "I know we joked about it earlier, but I'm actually cold now." The admission was blunt.

Torah looked over at him, "There are...solutions...for such." She sashayed over and circled the male with an enticing look in her eyes. Don't stop playing now. With that she darted in towards him, nibbling between his shoulder blades, then trotted a few feet away. Her front legs slipped forward as she took a playful bow.

SHE WALKS. "SHE SPEAKS." SHE THINKS

The smaller the creature, the bolder its spirit

"Are you ready for, ready for A perfect storm, perfect storm?"

A wink, and a tease. Flattery could only get one so far. Yeah, she’d definitely heard it before, probably a number of times. Arty flicked one ear, returned the wink, and dipped his nose down in a very tiny nod. ”Fair. However, the same can be said of good looks,” he commented. That, of course, depended on the wolf. Though spoken in jest, it was true of him. It’d take more than that to get him to commit to anything.

There was little else said as they finished their meals afterward. While his company sat up, Arty’d found himself content to recline in the snow.

That was, until his company put forth a blunt admission. Then spoke of solutions to said problem. It was enough to get him sitting up, eyes tracking her playful yet coordinated motions. Slender, graceful. She darted forth for another play bite, then skirted back.

Her posture suggested play, and he wouldn’t be one to disappoint. Arty stood and stalked forth a couple of paces - though in the back of his mind, he wondered how far she was planning to go. How far he’d go, too. But for now, he wasn’t going to worry or think about that.

Instead, he smiled a little and then darted forth, attempting to go for a little nudge and perhaps a tiny nip along one of the woman’s shoulders.

Torah had merely laughed, "Good thing I have brains too." She was more than just a pretty face. Hadn't her kill been enough to show that? Or did he need to see more of her capabilities?

Blue eyes traced every move of her dance partner, springing into action once he'd darted forward. She'd missed his nudge by a few mere inches, taunting him with laughter. The nip, however, she'd failed to evade. It sent a tingle down her spine and she shook herself. Her itching pelt lounged for her to give into instinct. The burning sensation screaming at her. Torah fought to hold onto her strong will. Desire to drag out their game keeping her steady. Oh, but she wanted to cave. With his captivating gaze, multicolored pelt, and muscular form...the man was enticing.

She pranced towards him, head high, seductive icy stare locked on, tail curled up over her back dominantly. She circled around acting all calm and nonchalant until she reached his withers. The woman jumped up and aimed to drape her front legs over as if her petite body could do anything. She leaned forward, regardless of success or failure, and whispered into his ear, "You smell so good." That he did, for whatever reason, hormones likely...his mere existence was beginning to drive the woman's senses wild.

SHE WALKS. "SHE SPEAKS." SHE THINKS

The smaller the creature, the bolder its spirit

"Are you ready for, ready for A perfect storm, perfect storm?"

Good thing she had brains too. Arty chuckled a little at that, but in a good way - not meant to make fun of her. That was fair enough, and true, from what he’d seen. Although.. he couldn’t help wondering how much of her present action was guided by things other than her brain, right now. And how much his was, too.

He didn’t bother to try to resist as she draped her body over him, the touch and warmth sending a shockwave of sensations through him. This woman was easily one of the prettiest he’d ever seen, and she knew it. To score with her would be something he probably wouldn’t forget. But he doubted she was out just for some casual fun.  

The words whispered in his ear made her all the more desirable. ”So do you..” he whispered back. How easy it would’ve been to just give in. The heavens above knew he yearned to, and with each passing moment, that temptation grew harder to resist. As much as he didn’t want to end their game, to inject seriousness into it and potentially kill the mood entirely, if he was going to bring himself back under control, it had to be now.

Artyom didn’t know if he’d be able to stop himself if they kept going like this. And he didn’t want either of them to be committed to anything if it wasn’t what they both wanted. So, carefully, he moved to extract himself from the woman’s embrace and then, to turn and face her. ”But is this what you truly desire?”

A simple, yet loaded question. He trusted she was smart enough to know what he meant. To understand the result that continuing this dance might bring if they carried it too far. "You don't even know my name.."

Torah relished in the touch, excited by his willingness to let her do whatever she pleased- even though at the end of the day he could easily overpower her. He was truly interesting. The woman felt captivated. Before he'd replied she had started to groom the fur along his nape. Her chest fluttered at his words, the she-wolf leaning her head against him with a low rumble. Her conviction was faltering, the temptation to give in clouding her judgment. A soft doe-eyed look in her blue jewels, "You're handsome, but, you know that don't you?" Admittedly, if he didn't, the woman would find such disappointing. A man knowing his worth, being confident, even a bit cocky- now that was attractive.

She whined as he moved away, faking a soft pout in a joking manner. Although it did disappoint her as her paws softly collided with the ground and she was left without his touch. She took a step to close the distance then thought better of it, he'd moved for a reason. So she frowned, looking at him disappointedly. I see our game is over...

The man left her with a heavy question to consider. Of course, the dame wanted a mate. Even a few children. She wanted someone devoted to her and her alone. Committed to their partnership for life just as her parents had been. Even when the love faded. Although, that last part, she hoped would never happen to her. She wanted someone who adored her entirely. She looked away at the snow in between her paws. Not in shame nor to avoid his gaze. The woman was concentrating on what to say, how to word it, and finding an answer suitable for the situation. Springing the idea of a relationship on someone you'd just met was a lot.

She drew her gaze back to his. That was part of the fun... She took a few steps closer, reaching out with her snout as if she'd burry her face into the thick fur around his neck. Instead, the woman stopped short of the embrace, "Who are you?" She asked in a tone that suggested seriousness, but a voice sweet like honeysuckle. For the moment Torah left his question unanswered, but only temporarily. She intended to answer him.

SHE WALKS. "SHE SPEAKS." SHE THINKS

The smaller the creature, the bolder its spirit

"Are you ready for, ready for A perfect storm, perfect storm?"

There was no giving in, now. The flattery that probably would’ve worked mere moments ago went mostly unnoticed and certainly unacknowledged. She frowned at his question, and looked away. Her brows furrowed, as though in thought. Considering her - no - their actions. What they’d very nearly brought upon themselves.

Artyom believed he’d make a good father. If, possibly, a bit lax. The opposite of his parents with all of their weird rules and stupid expectations. He wouldn’t have levied any of that on children, but would just love them for who they turned out to be. He’d not entered today even wishing to entertain that thought, but.. here he was. If he was going to commit himself to anyone, he would not have minded it being someone as beautiful as this woman.

Hers was a face he doubted he’d ever tire of seeing. If he was treated to the sight of her, every day? And promised some extra fun throughout the year - not just during spring? That would be a very tempting deal.

Briefly, he thought of Malien, out there somewhere. He’d not seen the other man for a while. What would he think of this?
It wasn’t a place he allowed his thoughts to linger for very long. Because at the end of the day, he didn’t care all that much. This was about what he wanted, with this woman. Nobody else.

She didn’t answer him, not directly, anyway, but she did move closer. Her desire to know who he was.. would probably be something she took into account. ”Artyom. Or Arty,” he answered simply. ”Formerly, the heir apparent to my ancestral homeland. Now I’m just.. me.” Because he couldn't help putting that in there. Once upon a time he'd been considered royalty. But that was never something he'd desired.

S for offensive swearword.

There was no move for affection on either end, only the cold wind that parted her pelt. She smiled at his name, That's a new one...a bit odd, and parted her jaws to give her own. Her ears perked, mouth shutting. She studied him quietly before asking, "Why would you give up power?" Her eyes swept over his frame. Perhaps this was part of why he was so gentle for a man that looked so strong. Torah's rump met the cold ground as she moved into a seated position, her posture tall, face expectant. It was a fascinating tidbit of information and knowing why he'd turned his back on the opportunity would reveal so much about him to her.

"I am Torah Armstead." She spoke proudly, evident in the way the dame held herself. Her chin was ever so slightly titled upwards. " As to your prior question, it is my desire to be a mother, and to with whom I choose..." She trailed off thoughtfully,"The latter is not taken lightly in my family and I do not intend to become a whore." The emphasis on the word was evident, a harsh tone leaving the woman. The game they'd been dancing away the night with had been fun. The conclusion had been unavoidable, but she'd expected to have left the man high and dry. Instead, he'd lured her in further than she'd expected and then cut it short before she could misstep. You keep me on my toes, Arty.

SHE WALKS. "SHE SPEAKS." SHE THINKS

The smaller the creature, the bolder its spirit

"Are you ready for, ready for A perfect storm, perfect storm?"