Durnehviir's teeth combed the soft ivory fur of her chest, plucking from it the twigs and dirt that had gathered in her wanderings through the forest. When satisfied, she smoothed the pale tresss with a gentle sweep of her tongue before setting about working on the next section of her coat. Should she decide to present herself to Constantine in the days to come, the russet Frostfur wished to be pristine.
The arrival of another was unexpected, and she jerked her head to the side at the soft chuff of a pack-mate. Wild champagne eyes sought his form among the bleeding trees and she rumbled gently - a quiet warning to keep his distance. He stepped into view and Durnehviir gathered herself, hackles pricklinging to attention until her bold guard hairs stood erect along the length of her spine.
For a long time, it had only been Samothes, Constantine and herself to call Ravensblood their home. She admired his loyalty to their small group and liked him well enough, but it didn't protect him from her flaring hormones. She stared at him for a while, silent and unmoving, waiting for him to make his intentions known.
his greeting is met with a fair warning -- the messeda boy stops, calmly taking a couple steps back before sitting. ah, hormones. his body instinctively responds, feeling a heady rush course through him, but he does not feel the need to risk those beautiful teeth (hers or their swarthy leader's).
"my apologies if this is an inopportune time," samothes says smoothly, "i've no desire to... interrupt your..." er. he makes a vague gesture with his paw, adopting a slightly sheepish mien. he still half expects constantine to burst from the trees to scold him (which makes the moment a little more titillating than he'd like to admit).
He did not advance toward her, thankfully, and even sought to place greater distance between them by taking a few careful strides backward before settling into a seated position. Durnehviir watched him quietly, bristled and lingering uncomfortably in her place. Her champagne eyes never drifted far from his pale features, and she maintained her tension despite the assurance that he had no desire to court her.
She cleared her throat then, smoothing back a chestnut lobe with curiosity. "Did you wish to speak with me?" Durnehviir asked, a certain sharpness in her tone. There had been no time that she and Samothes had conversed privately so why now, of all times, did he seek to chat with her?