Wapun Meadow scared money can't win and a worried man can't love
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#1
All Welcome 
he stood out in the fanning half light as the meadow descended into muted blues. the dips and mounds of snow a grey color, and long shadows cast between them. a wind scurried across the vale in bustling cries and the last bird had since roosted before the gathering dark.

he was hungry. in silence he moved across the meadow, nose and ears to the ground.
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#2

Dove-gray skys, charcoal shadows, this was her world of somber darkness. The daylight was worse than the night with its gray pallor. The nights were rife with moondust and stark colors, whereas the days were full of muted mixtures. She could feel it coming - could see it in the waning sun, and yet it still had not arrived. The world hung in the in-between - where the sun had gone to rest, but the moon had yet to wake.

This her mind focused on. It occupied space in her thoughts until it became the only one that remained. She had yet to bother herself by watching where her mitts fell on the water-laden snow, not until her foreleg slid through the slush into a large divit in the earth. Only then did her cerulean optics snap in to focus. After which, they found themselves in line with a creature prowling through the meadow before them.

~There is no night without stars~
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#3
ich'aak had heard the crunch of snow underfoot, but he did not pull his thin nose from the ground until the sound of a limb pressed through a hollow sounded -- carefully he looked upright, his gaze falling on the silhouette of a wolf.

he carefully studied her -- whether she was a threat, how big she was -- she was much larger than he, with bright lapis eyes and a form studded by rich creams and chestnuts. he might have called her an attractive she-wolf, were he the type to seek wolf companionship. he did not move from the spot he had halted in -- instead, he would wait for her action.
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#4

Asteria felt him before she saw him. Freeing her forelimb from its entrapment, she searched the barren land for the gaze piercing her. There. Her optics locked onto the viridescent stare of a wolf-like creature. She merely watch him as those eyes ran over her, her own taking in the pitch-black of his pelage. As she looked closer, his night-kissed pelt seemed dappled with copper hues that caught in the waning achromic light.

Her ivory maw parted, then promptly shut. It felt nearly wrong to speak - she did no such thing. It was not unlike her to simply give him a flicker of her chestnut tail, so that was all she offered.


~There is no night without stars~
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#5
as the she-wolf freed herself from the sunken patch of earth her limb had fallen in, ich'aak prepared for some sort of physical rejoinder. most wolves did not favor his kind -- particularly not in such close proximity -- and he half expected her to give firm chase. instead she offered a flicker of her tail, a silent greeting that suggested she was comfortable with his presence. his ears cupped back to his thin skull as he processed the action.

he still waited for the wrinkle of lips, the lifted gum and show of teeth -- but no such gesture marred the winsome cream of her features. he slowly shifted into a sitting position, his own tail tip twitched in response.
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#6
She had yet to see his kind before - 'his' becoming an association to the creature, though she knew not why she assumed he was male. Perhaps a female innately knew a male when she saw one. The cant of her head indicated her confusion. Large ears, dainty snout, diminutive limbs - an odd being he was. He reminded her of the vibrant red ochre foxes that used to roam just past her pack's territory - and yet, he seemed more refined. Like the foxes, she assumed he could not - or would not - speak to her, as they had done. 

Perhaps she should have simply snubbed him - a part of her whispered for her to do so. Instead she found herself mimicking his position, her haunches lowering to the ground and her plume wrapping about herself.

~There is no night without stars~
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#7
the she-wolf seemed to mirror his actions -- a gesture that caused his ears to unpin and cup ahead, wrinkling his brow in the process. he dipped his muzzle once, a gesture done to capture any noise she might have made -- instead, she remained silent.

for a moment the only thing that stirred between them was the wind -- they sat, two solitary and still figures in a field dappled by snow.

then the male rose, dropping to the snow in a graceful playbow, his haunches in the air and his long ropy tail waving out behind him -- both of his ears held askance in a wild gesture that seemed to suggest play. he was testing her, in a way -- he was trying to test his limits and see whether she would allow him within her proximity, or whether she would be intolerant like many of her kind and simply chase him away.
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#8

As his ears swiveled towards her, Asteria seemed to relax from her upright position ever so slightly. It was true, she could best him in a fight by sheer size alone, but she was not raised for quarrells.

She stiffened as the peculiar - yet prepossessing - male nimbly dropped to the ground. His tail was raised behind him, his forelegs stretched out before him. Her body's instant reaction was to mimic - to imitate his exact movements. In a single maneuver she was down - the bottom of her maw nearly grazing the algid snow. The rest of her lithe form was angled up towards the ashen ether - her plume fanning out behind her.

The fae let out a dulcet chuff to him - a universal invitation.

~There is no night without stars~
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#9
the male was unsure how his sudden movement would have been received, but it appeared he need not fret, for the female responded with her own playful maneuver. jol ichaak lowered his muzzle into the snow with a loud huff in rejoinder to her chuff, and with a light growl, he snapped at the snow and suddenly turned tail at a scampering gallop with his long tail streaming wildly behind him.

he bobbed and weaved not unlike a startled hare, his muzzle low to the ground as he sought something - a stick, a rock -- anything -- and his gait slowed as he came upon a brittle two foot long stick cast from the cottonwood. he scooped the thing up delightedly in his jaws and tilted his muzzle back to carry it, parading proudly back to the female with a gentle wag of his tail.
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#10

She was delighted at his response - the only noise in their impoverished world of ice. Charmed by the breeze of snow he left in his wake, the female hesitated - that is: until he was nearly eight body lengths away from her. It was then that her mitts sprang to life, giving chase to the flurry of dark umber before her.

Her paws had barely even left the earth when he turned back towards her - a large stick lolling from his jowls. She felt her chest stutter - a chuckle releasing from her maw - before she let out a low rumble. Her growl was betrayed by the glimmer of glee and approval in her aquamarine eyes.

She padded nearer - until she was in reach of the branch. The female paused before him, lowering her head to the ground before darting out to grab an open space on the stick.


~There is no night without stars~
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#11
she chased after him, and within those few seconds it was evident she had the advantage of speed over him -- he felt compelled to switch to the fastest gear his thin legs could manage -- though his stride was by nature much shorter than hers.

he swung round to face her with the branch in his mouth and he taunted her with it -- as she growled, he paused - his gaze fell to hers in trepidation, but the glittering warmth of her blue gaze suggested the growl was far from hostile in nature.

she then angled towards the stick -- ich'aak playbowed again with a duck, but he was too slow and there was suddenly tension at the other end of the stick. ich'aak eyed her out of the corner of his eyes and tugged with a low, playful growl, his booty backing up with each hearty tug of his muzzle.
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#12

A mewling noise escaped her as she tugged on the branch - the result of her instant gratification. Their interaction was so simple - so base in nature - that she could not help but feel subdued. His own mischevious snarl lead to a smirk growing upon her muzzle - a curious thing in appearance, especially with a stick between her ivories.

The female edged backwards, wrenching the stick back and forth within her grasp. She made sure not to exert too much strength - as she would have done with a pack juvenile. She needn't scare her newfound entertainment away - not with those dark skys threatening to darken her mood.

~There is no night without stars~
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#13
ich'aak remained attentive to the female's posturing and her growls -- thus far they seemed benign, but he had met more than one wolf that had flipped round with a show of teeth. she tugged and he struggled to keep the branch within his jaws, keeled nearly clean over by each forceful yank of her weight. he dug his heels in the ground and rejoined her growl with a rumbling grumble, though his eyes remained light and a similar enjoyable smile played clear on his blackened lips.

he tried to sway her grip once by leaning deep to the left -- however, as he did so he suddenly lost contact with the stick -- he froze, as the ball was now in her court.
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#14
Her partner seemed to be enjoying their play - indicated by the insistent tugging on the other end of the stick. He seemed to be putting up more and more of a fight, but to no avail. Even she could best him if she truly wanted to - though she was having far too much fun to simply rip the branch from him.

Alas, he managed to loosen the stick from his own grasp, pulling too far to her right. While he moved, her paws remained cemented to the ground - resulting in the other end of the stick feeling bereft of weight. For a moment in time the fae froze, until a gleeful yip escaped her maw. Seconds later she was bounding away - only to turn back to her small companion with a rueful, yet impish look painting her features. She dropped down to the ground, the stick still housed within her ivories, and rolled upon her back. Now looking at him upside-down, she rubbed her back on the water-laden ground before freezing in place. The female appeared to be doing her best impression of a corpse - that is: if her cerulean eyes had not been open and glimmering with amusement.


~There is no night without stars~
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#15
his movements stilled as he awaited her reaction, feeling only slightly sad he had lost his end of the stick. she seemed still for a second, and then yipped loudly and swung away in a wild scamper. he scuttled after her in a loose canter, his enjoyment of their caper evidenced by the elastic wag of his rope-like tail. suddenly she was upon the ground and he slowed to a stop, peering at her carefully as she dug her shoulderblades into the ground.

he took one step, careful and deliberate -- and then another, testing her reactions. his pupils appeared wide, his ears high on his narrow skull and pressed forward in attentiveness -- every movement decisive and quietened....

and then he sprung with a snap towards her cheek, his teeth attempting to re-snare the stick he had lost in his joyful folly.
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#16
Asteria only tensed minutely as the creature approached, instinct telling her that he was not like she was. 'Do not trust them' they always said. She never saw any reason not to though. The foxes only ever stole food from their caches to survive, she never saw them hurt anyone. It was the wolves that always hurt the others.

The fae could have kept the male from his prize, but there was not much fun in that. They both knew that she could easily keep it away from him, just as easily as she could harm him. It was astonishing that he even got this close to her. The thought gave her a bit of comfort, perhaps she had gained an aquaintance from all of this - instead of a stranger.

Allowing him to take the stick from her maw was not a hard task to swallow, for she merely wanted companionship at this point. There was a plus side to it as well, for the creature seemed joyful with his newfound toy.


~There is no night without stars~
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#17
he expected a fight, some sort of struggle -- maybe even a feint as she impishly denied him his stick. instead, he got the whole thing back, branch and all.

his jaws closed around the stick tenderly, and he cast a dubious gaze to her. was it a trick? some play or guile? her features seemed genuine, and while he saw a glint of mischief in her eyes, there seemed no ill-will.

he would take that.

with a grunt he yoinked the stick best he could, and then was off -- she could give chase again, or find something else -- but he would happily play keep-away for as long as she wished to.