Windsong Fjord what if the way we started made it something cursed from the start

Her form remained rigid as she made her way from the Surge. Lachesis’ words rang sharply in her mind, and the flare of anger she felt was not tempered by the fact that had she taken the precaution in informing him of her absence in the first place, she would not be in this situation. His reasons were not unsound – but it did not lessen the sting of hurt that lanced her heart as he turned her away, nor the fact that she held the scars littered upon her flanks in the sign of dedication to her family and pack.

What had the others in his ranks proven?

The only comfort the honeyed she-wolf felt was that she did not want to remain in a place where she was unwanted – and so she moved from the lake, making her way to the west, where she had promised @Deacon she would meet him if her pack forced her away. She had no knowledge if he intended to find her – but at the chance he did, she wasn’t going to push away a welcome and somewhat familiar face. It seemed that neither of them had any plans, now.

As she roamed along the fjord, her pace slower, the she-wolf cast her vivid green eyes to the inky sky, noting that dusk had almost settled, blanketing the world in oncoming darkness. She would rest soon – but her tail swayed with the restlessness of not just her heart, but the itch of her skin and the season.

Tomorrow would be a new day, and she would come up with a plan then.

It was like a miracle that he found her scent. It seemed that heading west had been smart on his end and was going to pay off.

The world was growing dark by the time he finally caught up with her. He was hesitant at first, he smelled her perfume better now than he had back at the creek. His tail flicked behind him as he shifted his weight from paw to paw. If he didn't pester her then certainly someone else would. Deacon (perhaps foolishly) trusted himself better than any other males.

He moved forward again and let out a low woof to announce his presence. The large male would mind her personal space and not crowd her. "Thought I'd never catch up with you." He openly admitted in his deep tones. It was good to see her even if her being west meant things might not have worked out at the Sure.

have you checked out my player preferences?

There is a deer that was killed by a lynx nearby. +10 Health

With her nose close to the ground, the Baranski attempted to seek out a place satisfying to her where she felt she could be safe and at ease. Engrossed in this process, one ear flickered back to the sound of the wood, and allowing her muzzle to tip back, her bright eyes fell upon the familiar form of Deacon.

Dusk continued over them – most notable was the patch of white on his chest as he almost seemed to melt in to the night. It spoke volumes to her, in that moment, where she felt the inner turmoil of her other friend turning her away from his borders. Deacon was as different from Lachesis as night was to day – and for that she was grateful.

“You found me, TDB,” she murmured, a half smile quirking at her lips as she lifted her form to a neutral stance. She paused, studying him – ready to admit that she was glad he had found her, but unable to form that small vulnerability. “Guess that means we both need to form a plan, now,” she murmured, turning to face him.

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 had no question on if she was pleased to see him - her words almost conveyed it all. His tail swayed at a steady pace behind his bulky form. "Well you left me with a 'see you soon'. I couldn't leave you hanging." A smile threatened to break his features but he maintained his cool.

"And what might it be that you want to do, GLC?" He asked as a dark brow raised above amber eyes. Either of them could do whatever they wanted to really. He, more or less, always had but he figured that his company was more organized where he was not. It was something he could admire even if he didn't openly say so. Plans had never suited the dark male.

One of his front paws lifted off the ground slightly as if he might take a step forward. He knew better though, and he had even told himself he knew so. Slowly his paw settled back on the earth beneath him hoping that the motion would go unnoticed.

have you checked out my player preferences?

“How noble,” she responded, her smile only widening. There was something about the dark male that allowed her to relax – he didn’t know her history – not yet, anyhow, and so he didn’t look at her as if she were a fragile china doll. Lekalta Baranski would not break – she had not yet, and she had no intention to.

He asked her what she wanted to do – hinting that whatever it was, they would do so together. She considered his words, a myriad of responses darting through her agile mind. “Hm,” she sighed, feeling her ears pull back and her features softening wistfully. “It’s been awhile since someone asked me that,” she admitted truthfully, though even as she spoke the words they sounded heavy – too heavy, with a guy she just met.

“What I really want,” she decided, her voice hushing as she eyed him stepping closer, then hesitating. She paused, her nose flaring as she considered the reaction of her companion, realizing then that he did so out of respect for her and the season in which they found themselves in. She found it endearing.

She took a swaying step then, an impish grin coiling upon her lips. She had considered pups of her own, but always in passing. Somehow, she had wanted more from life than what her sister had settled for.. She wanted a mate – a pack, a family. She could have ushered these words to the man in front of her – but how much would that terrify him? Instead, she tipped her muzzle up, hesitating to brush it gently to his cheek. “Is to go catch a pheasant or a rabbit to fill my gut.” She paused, blinking at him with feign innocence. “I’m starving.”

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?

A hint of a frown tugged at his features when she spoke. There was a heaviness to them that was hard to ignore but he wasn't going to go prodding on the topic. Deacon knew that if others wished to elaborate then they would.

His ears stood tall with interest, wondering what kind of answer he would get. What was churning about in her mind? Before he could wonder any more, he found himself becoming rooted to his spot. If she wished to get closer then he wouldn't shove her away. It was, in a way, intoxicating but he knew if he kept mentally reprimanding himself then everything would be just fine.

The large male tipped his head down slightly, amber eyes focused solely on the lean female. "I..uh, we can do that." He spoke softly and gave a gentle nod of his head. "I don't know where to find anything around here or where they might hide so if you do, I'd appreciate some help." Hunting would be the best distraction he could have asked for in that moment.

have you checked out my player preferences?

He looked at her rather intently – a look she couldn’t recognize if only because the two were very new in one another’s lives. He was tall – hovering over her in a way she found amusing, especially in the way of how seriously he seemed to take everything. He nodded to her, and she withheld from swaying her tail in gentle appreciation – tormenting wasn’t very kind, was it?

And so at what seemed to her to be his acquiescence , she planted a sloppy kiss to his cheek in chipper appreciation. Lachesis might have kicked her out of the pack she had essentially been birthed in, but she would persevere. “Let’s go see what we can rustle up, Mr. Serious,” she quipped, turning then and beginning to traverse the expanse of the fjord.

With her nose drifting down every so often to see if she could capture the trail or scent of something, she cast her bright eyes to him, canting her muzzle slightly in his direction. “So.. You’ve never been this far north in Relic Lore, before? Where are you from, then?”

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 face crinkled slightly as a slobbery kiss was planted on his cheek but despite what he tried to pull off on his facial features his tail swayed behind him. Deacon was quick to follow after her. "Nothing wrong with being serious." He said with a small smirk pulling at his lips. It was better than being reckless or rude.

The large male found a hum of thought escaping him at her question. "Almost all the way south. Drooping Willows." He informed her in neutral tones. Deacon felt no need to dump out all of his information or bore her with his personal history lesson. "Never had a reason to come up here until now." He elaborated the slightest bit before sniffing around, trying to find out if there was anything worthwhile around.

"What about you? Always been a northerner?" The dark male asked with a curious glimmer in his eyes. He'd much rather talk about her instead of himself.

have you checked out my player preferences?

He padded after her, and she slowed her pace, sidling up along his side. She didn’t know if he scented her or not – but she wished to be careful. Peridot eyes landed upon him as he spoke, though he didn’t go in depth in anything, which was fair enough. She had never been to Drooping Willows – her parents had been around the area prior to her birth, but she had never been privy to what had happened, aside from the Grizzly Hollow wolves.

“I was born in Hearthwood River,” she replied, considering how far to delve in to it. “I’ve left and returned, though,” she noted, her smile tightening at the thought. “I’ve never really explored much of Relic Lore, though. Have you? What else is out there?” Her hunger went to the wayside for the moment, though she continued to track – finding nothing. Two wolves was better than a sole lone wolf, but it didn’t mean meals would be easier to come by.

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?