Firefly Weir i've counted down the days

He’d traversed a fair distance since he’d first met Malien. He had seen a lot, but hadn’t crossed paths, or even discovered evidence of too many more wolves. They were out there, he knew. Just not here, or where he’d been as of yet.

True to what he’d told Malien, though, Artyom had indeed been counting down each of the days and studying the moon each night it had been visible to him. And once the allotted time had passed, he’d headed back down to where he thought and hoped the region his.. suitor, or whatever Malien was and they were to each other, had spoken of.

And it was nice. He could envision it being even nicer and more secluded during the summer. Arty had been sure not to leave too many clues around to indicate his presence before settling under a tree within a grove of sorts that overlooked the mostly frozen lake. He didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention, which.. would be basically anyone else, at this moment.

But it ought to be enough to guide Malien to him. Hopefully.

@Malien - a bit short but just for you!

(This post was last modified: Feb 05, 2023, 07:24 AM by Artyom.)

Never worry about length <3

The reigning mood of the past month has been confusion. Who he is he? What does he want? How did he end up this way, in this place? He knew he had been feeling something for Venus, because he had enjoyed flattering her and spending time with her and thinking that settling into a pack life if it made her happy wouldn't have been so bad, but then she just.. disappeared, and he felt all sorts of lost and abandoned and listless and angry. All of that was kind of a first.

Then he met Artyom, and he hadn't had a single thought in his mind of being more than fleeting strangers, but something had happened and suddenly Malien didn't spare Venus a single thought anymore, because.. Because he had someone else to think about. And he, too, abandoned Malien, but in a sort of mutually agreed upon way. It gave him way too much time to think. And the thoughts, as usual, went nowhere.

But they didn't die out. He kept rehashing the same old things in his mind, never getting anywhere, just anxiously waiting for some sort of revelation.

Fretful of losing count of the days Malien had made his way to the Lagoon earlier than needed. He did rounds around it each day, figuring Artyom would forgive him a certain amount of tardiness if he showed up in an unexpected place. (Since when are you concerned with forgiveness, Malien?) He hunted small game and turned the upcoming reunion over and over in his mind.

There is something.. exciting about something being planned, of knowing it'll happen, but he also found out that the physical aspect wasn't what kept him up with a racing heart. No: it was merely the idea of seeing Artyom again. Talking to him.

So his heart nearly leaps out of his mouth when he finally comes across his scent. Malien stops dead in his tracks, and that thought from when they parted comes unbidden again: you could just run away. Forget all of this, leave it behind. You don't know what to do anyway.

But he can't. Won't.

So he turns away from his intended path, following the scent towards the shore and doing his best to not break into a run and trip over something. He doesn't even know what to say! Or do! He tries to think of something - anything - but by the time he finds Artyom under the tree facing the lake he still has no idea what to say. He wants to say a thousand things- ask a thousand things- his gaze running rapidly over that reddish body, making sure he's okay.

"Hi," is what he ends up saying, sort of sheepishly, sort of shyly, because the other words fight each other too much that none of them become sensible.

Even though it’d been a full moon, and a little more, he still wasn’t sure what this was. All of that time alone to wander and think hadn’t really led Art to any conclusions other than that it was not a typical thing. Not a usual one night and done. No, there was a part of him that actually cared. That wanted to see Malien just because.

And that was different. It was new. Puzzling, a bit nerve-wracking, but also..  exciting? It was nice to think about caring for someone, and possibly.. being cared about, just because.

Back home it’d almost always been about games. Not the fun kind, either. It was usually more of the what can I get out of you sort of game. What leverage did one wolf have over another to exercise power and control? Any sort of genuine feelings had almost always had to be carefully guarded, if not completely hidden.

It was nice to be somewhere he didn’t have to do that, anymore. Unknowing of how long he’d have to wait, Arty settled down onto one side, resting his head against a nearby embankment of snow. It wasn’t all that cold and made for a rather cozy pillow.

He wasn’t sure how long his eyes had been closed for when he heard it, a tentatively spoken “hi”. But the moment he heard it, he knew it was real. Though his heart raced and one limb twitched, he remained in place, eyes closed, fighting to keep a steady breath.

Let Malien think he was resting. He was curious about what the other would do.

And ..

.. nothing. Malien's brows furrow, a momentary panic coursing through him: is he.. dead? Is he breathing? He fights down the urge to jump onto the other, shake him awake, forces himself to take deep breaths. Study his chest. It moves, yeah? Yeah. And that's a puff of air being exhaled, the vapor turning to droplets in the cold air and rising gently.

Just asleep, then. Malien soundlessly works his jaws for a few moments to get the tension out of them. The sudden rush of adrenaline left him feeling weak and sickly, but it's okay. It's okay.

Except.. what now? Should he just let him rest? Wake him? Go hunt him some breakfast? It's tempting, Malien's already halfway to turning away to track down some rabbit or hare, but- but what if he wakes up? What if he wakes up, and smells Malien, but thinks he's left? It seems too big a risk, and he stops himself. Turns back to Artyom. Works his jaws again, and whines quietly with indecision.

Dammit. If he's hungry they could always hunt something once he's awake. Malien takes a deeper breath and wanders up to the other, as quietly as he can, and does a little circle on a spot not too far away. It's tempting to snuggle up to Arty already, but, having lived a lot of his life alone on the road, he's not sure it's the best to sneak up on a sleeping wolf and expect them to not instinctively take your face off when you invariably end up waking them up. So he folds himself up about half a meter away, settling in with his head on his paws to wait.

And.. very little happened, at least at first. Arty was half tempted to part one eye to take a peek at the other, but.. having no knowledge of how closely or not Malien was studying him, opted to keep them shut. But there were no more words. Only.. maybe, a couple of uncertain steps, and a soft noise?

What was that?

Anticlimactic was what it was. Though he didn’t know quite what he had been expecting, Artyom supposed he felt a little bad for his deception. Malien had probably been anticipating something more, an elated greeting, maybe an embrace. Not just.. a clump of unmoving fur lying in the snow.

But then there are steps. Closer, towards him. Not enough to touch, but enough to hear breath, to hear the crunching of snow as the other settled into it. At that, Art couldn’t stifle a soft laugh. He let one eye open halfway to study Malien, a wry grin tugging at one corner of his mouth before offering a pouty (but playfully so), greeting.

”Finally. Took you long enough.”

I'm sorry this took so long, I got sick and stuff >.<

He has already accepted his fate of an unforeseen naptime, has already begun to ease his mind into the dark abyss where no conscious thought lurks- heaves a little sigh once his jaw rests on his paws, an attempt to further shed the leftover adrenaline.

And that's why he.. Well. Really was not expecting to have been .. duped.

A soft laugh has his ears pricking to attention, silver head raising abruptly as another nauseating wave of adrenaline floods through him. And he feels the most sickening split of sensations he has ever felt: fondness, affection, elation at the sound of Arty's soft laugh, and a certain icy fury at what had clearly just been a ruse to see what Mally would do.

He doesn't like being played. He doesn't like being made a fool of.

"You were only pretending," he responds, blanked out by the surge of conflicting emotions; his voice is fairly lackluster, but here and there there's something sharp, almost accusing- and somehow, at the same time, he sounds almost petulant.

It's good for you that you're too pretty to be mad at.

Making a sort of grumpy, grunting noise Malien heaves himself up on all four again, walking over to Arty and stepping across him before gracelessly flopping down along his back. Sulkily, he tries to stick his head in the other's thick ruff.

(This post was last modified: Feb 15, 2023, 03:00 PM by Malien.)

Goodness, though. It was nice to finally see that face again. Not just in dreams, or one’s imagination, or memories. But in reality. Full view.

Only, Malien didn’t seem particularly amused by the ruse, if his expression and pithy response were any indications. Perhaps a little irritated. Arty couldn’t really blame him for feeling like that. You wait so long to see someone only for them to pull a stupid little prank - yeah. He could understand that.

”Half pretending,” Arty decided to go with, offering the other a somewhat sheepish and apologetic little smile as Malien huffed and puffed and lifted himself up. ”I was resting, but I did hear you. Sorry.” It was.. well. Mostly true. If the other hadn’t arrived when he did, the wanderer supposed he really would've been asleep by now. Probably.

His eyes traced the movement of the other as he sauntered closer and then flopped, adding his warmth to the little snow-den Arty’d already sort of created for himself. And that touch.. yeah. They were still good. Hopefully. ”I missed you. It is good to see you again. Done anything interesting or fun since last time?”

His eyes sparkled with curiosity at that. Surely there had to be some kind of tale there. Something interesting.

He's not sure what he was expecting- maybe something equally as defensive as Malien tends to be, but it certainly wasn't that. A genuine, honest apology and explanation kind of deal. No counter-accusation, no scorn at his testiness. It melts away whatever lingering frustration and hurt he has inside of him, leaving behind a new and peculiar sensation. It feels .. good. Peaceful. As if all is right in the world, as if .. as if Artyom genuinely cares. About him.

Who knew apologies were so powerful? That they actually worked, when delivered with honesty?

He grumbles slightly into Artyom's russet scruff, unsure of how to put it into words, or if he even should. He'd probably just mess it up, or make it weird.

But the other words give him pause. Artyom had missed him? Had he missed Artyom? He had been on his mind, and there had been many things Malien had wanted to figure out, and he had looked forward to seeing him again- does that mean he had missed him? Why is all of this so hard and complicated to understand? "It's good to see you too," he ends up saying, pressing his nose deeper into the fur, towards the warm skin beneath and raising one front leg to place it over Artyom. "I, uh.." And how to phrase that one? Or should he even mention it at all? Kind of felt too late now. "I tried to pull a wolf out of a river?"

Way to twist the tale, Malien.

It was good to see him too, Malien spoke. There were few things Arty’d ever heard that he would classify as better than that. At least as far as how it made him feel. Warm, appreciated. Things he’d been sorely lacking, in this way at least, throughout much of his still relatively short life. And it was backed by an even closer embrace, which he leant into, allowing that limb to drape across his shoulder.

His ears turned forth with intrigue at the next answer, though. Malien had tried to pull a wolf out of a river? Tried - had he succeeded? Although he didn’t particularly hold any sentimental value for someone he didn’t know, Artyom half hoped so. Dying in a freezing cold river would be a pretty shitty way to go out during this time of year. A fate he’d wish on, well.. almost nobody.

”So you’re a hero?” He inquired a bit incredulously, though there was a small note of awe and perhaps respect there. ”Did you manage to get ‘em out?” He added on, twisting his face around to try to get a look into the elder wolf’s eyes.

Hero? Oh, no no. Why did he go down this path again? Why did he think to mention that whole debacle? While Malien has no particular regrets about pushing Clouse into the river he is more than aware it's socially unacceptable to attempt murder.

No- Malien's no hero. Malien's a bit of a scumbag.

Artyom's tone makes something prick in his heart. Giving the wrong impression to the other - that stirs guilt in him, though he's not sure of what the feeling actually is. It just feels like a slow, twisting poison.

His mouth is slightly flat as he meets Artyom's gaze, his own eyes hard. "No," he says. Part of him wants to stop there, let the other stay in his fantasy, because.. Why had he thought any of this was worth sharing? It'd just lead back to the same thing: Malien performing a socially unacceptable act. He'd get judged for it and that'd be the end of this.

Maybe it would be better to let Artyom think Clouse had died, or been lost in the spray. If he keeps going with the story he'll have to tell of his own icy plunge, and surely, that will lead back to the question of why...

He could say he fell.

But something in him resists the idea of outright lying to Artyom.

"I ended up in the river too," he mutters, lowering his head to break their gaze. It's clear he is not interested in staying on the subject.