Dragonveil Fold What's in a name?

For Spartan only! set a few days after their last thread.
potential M for March madness?

The snows had let up, making travel less arduous once more. Still she had not left the fold behind. Their place, where they had found each other, and perhaps something for them both within reach if they wanted it.

Isomne had felt herself pulled in two different directions each time she thought about what to do. Perhaps she was telling herself a tale, singing the song that she wanted to hear, and that's why she lingered this evening by the small stream, raised her voice to the open sky here instead of returning to her journey and seeking the pack she'd been searching for.

But she felt a warmth she'd long thought might not be for her in these last few days, whenever she heard his gentle wordless greetings or caught sight of that smile. And so she had stayed here. For a man whose name she did not even know. And she hoped he would, too. For at least for one more hour, one more day, so she might have a little more of this memory to hold on to even if it was only that.

(This post was last modified: Mar 15, 2023, 11:26 PM by Isomne.)

He had traveled once. To refresh his scent among the cove and then return, to find her here again. Still he remained respectful of her boundaries, courting from a distance. When she wished for his nearness, he approached and knew better than to take anything at more than face value. Let her set the scene each time.

Yet tonight she sung and he moved down a slope to see her. Perfect as always and he could do nothing but be charmed for a moment. He admired her from his higher spot as his heart swirled warmly in his chest.

Then he sung a song back to her. Deep and warm. Next he would cut down the little hill he had stood upon to watch her. His tail waved behind him and a familiar sound rose in his throat. Eager to see her again.

spartan does not speak!

His call met her ears, and a smile graced her jaws. So, he had not gone away for good. Isomne was glad. She'd be lying to say her heart did not skip a beat at his return. The snowy woman felt a flush of warmth almost as if she had never felt spring's arrival before. She had of course, but this was the first time she had truly considered. A breath of cool air steadied her and she lifted her voice to join his.

She enjoyed this dance. Isomne had grown fond of the quiet man quickly, but she never felt a sense of urgency from him despite the warmth that seemed to be shared. He'd kept his distance before, always letting her approach him, but this time he moved to meet her as she paced up the bank to meet him at the foot of the small hill. She gave a cheerful sway of her tail at his greeting, voicing her own soft "Hello," and brushing her muzzle against his cheek as they met.

Then she stepped back to regard him with a smile. "Have you been to your mountain home?" she inquired. Standing there in the fading light, his form resembled the high peaks adorned in the alpenglow. She thought he smelled of pines and cold, thin air.

Another breath. "I'm glad you came back."

He welcomed her has close as she wished. Half tempted to sweep her into a wolfen hug. As if she was a wife he had had for years, or a long lost love. Either way his soul intertwined with hers in ways he did not fully comprehend, but perhaps he did not need to.

Yes. His head nodded softly. He had only briefly returned to the cove before he was out once more. Off to come find her again for he had missed her. How he wished he could tell her this. That her feelings were shared and he too was both glad to have come back, glad that she had come back too.

He crooned warmly. He reached with his teeth now to nibble at the base of her ear delicately. His tail swayed and a soft whine vibrated deep in his throat.

spartan does not speak!

She thought she could detect a faint hint of his pack's scent lingering about him, now that they were close, but it was not quite so strong as what many wore. Still, Isomne wished to stake her own claim with him too, returning his embrace press of her own form against his side and allowing their fur to mingle. His own scent was mesmerizing, intoxicating even, leaving her to catch her breath as they parted.

A nod was confirmation of his travels. It pleased her more somehow, to know he had left and returned to her here. Appreciation bloomed warm on her cheeks.

Strange, how snows could fuel the fire. Like breathing life into coals, his presence ignited something in her that would not be ignored. Each breath, each step, only stoked her feelings. Perhaps it was only the season, but she thought she might never grow tired of his gentle familiarity. Only now, upon his return, did she realize how much she had craved it. Her composure was maintained only through the surety that they had time, had this place to themselves.

"Do they know your name, there?" she wondered aloud, softly. How she wished that she could know it, know him. There was a pleasure in wanting such things she'd never really known before, even with all her songs and tales and travels.

Then his teeth grazed the nape behind her ear, and she felt sparks enliven her whole frame. She could not ignore it for long, did not wish to. Her own jaws parted, no longer to speak but to whine with playful affection. Casting a sideways glance, she moves closer before dancing away again and circling him.

(This post was last modified: Mar 13, 2023, 05:15 AM by Isomne.)

No.

He shook his head softly, mindful of her closeness for the moment. Yet, as much as he adored her melodic voice, he wished to cut short the life of words this time. To know only her and to speak in the wordless way of wolves. The way he had been raised.

She danced and he became a hunter once more. This time for her.

He prowled with masculine interest. A thing that he had tried to keep well settled, but here they were again. How many times again might they have? There was the want to woo and impress her now, so that she would not find a contender for him. Still he knew it would not be his choice if she did or did not.

He crooned a lonely little note to her as he reached for her once more.

spartan does not speak!

Returning his embrace, this time more fully, the bardic woman leaned into his frame and lingered there, curving her neck against his. Her jaws were soft with affection as she nipped at his ruff, breathing in his scent before pulling herself away once more. She was not sure she would be able to do so at all if she waited any longer. Instead she answered his whine with one of her own, her gaze searching his as she invited him to give chase once and for all.

There was no need of words anymore. Both knew the steps to this dance, her leading and he following but always a push and pull between them. His quarry would lead him on a merry race, to see what this hunter of the mountains was capable of, if he wished to be hers and her to be his this night. She wanted him to follow her, wanted for them each to test each other's will as she felt her heart rate rising. Isomne's breath came from her lungs now like smoke in the cold air as she sped across the snow, lengthening her stride she glanced back, keenly aware of his presence. A lilting bark rang from her lips.

And she ran with all the grace and speed she could muster, as if she had never felt injury, or even regret. Still in this act of abandon, she still felt the tensity in her muscles down to her bones. Even running at full tilt she could not ease the incessant, growing fire within. Her gaze flickered ahead, seeking for a destination as she reached the edge of the open meadow and neared the dark line of trees. Paws slowed ever so slightly in their flight. She wanted him to catch her, soon.

And it would forever be in his blood to hunt, to chase.

Especially now. When she lured him into it like she had become a doe. He saw only her as they traversed the familiar slopes that they had already shared once before. He thought of all the good things he could give her here if she let him. If she wanted him to.

He would only make sounds of deep, low masculine encouragement. Sounds meant for the ears of a loved woman — and she was loved in these moments. She had come to him on the gilded wings of spring and he opened himself to her in full. Perhaps it was not love in a deeply bonded romantic sense, but he treasured her already. Dreamed of her. Considered her a loved face in those he had seen.

He reached for her now with strong limbs and hoped to catch her before she slipped into the trees.

spartan does not speak!

Theirs was a joyful chase, as old as wolvenkind. Isomne held no fear of her pursuer as they neared the beckoning shadows. Honeyed eyes glanced back once more, as she relished in each step taken.

She could hear him, and gave answer even as she hid herself coyly within the shadow of one of the forest's first columns. Ardent notes would lead him along like some faerie song, the bardic woman darting and circling from one tree to the next, knowing all the while that with each moment he was ever closer. Her hunter, her chosen. Perhaps not hers forever or even for long, but for now, and she would cherish him. Isomne would not wait placidly for her share of this life, she would choose to accept what he had to offer, for all it was. She would love him without reservation, a love of his sudden appearance in her life like a ray of sunlight in the darkness, a love of what might be one day, even if it was nothing more than a fond memory. She could hope for more, and tonight she did.

At last she relented in the game and revealed herself, standing in the open of the snowed forest floor, ears tipping for the sound of his footsteps not far behind. Turning to face him, she greeted him with a swaying plume and soft gaze. Ah ha, you've caught me, the words were not voiced, but simply a thought that carried to her stance and gaze. She'd greet him unabashedly with kisses now, placing them upon his muzzle and cheek and ear, not wishing to evade his presence or affection for a moment longer.

Mature for some suggestive themes

He worshiped the bard in these moments.

Peppered her in kisses and sung her praise in deep, husky sounds. Her eyes the radiant glow of the sun and he felt the warmth of her in full now it seemed. How he adored her deeply in these moments. As if they had known each other for eons. Who would say that they had not? Perhaps in a life before, hopefully in a life after.

All that mattered was the life now. The life that he could give her if she let him. He would only seek permission from her one last time. So that he could worship her in full.

He, the moon. Her, the sun.

He was prepared to be eclipsed.

spartan does not speak!