Black Morass i lost myself into the night

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The feral Commander’s steps were not as quiet as he would have liked: his bulk weighed him down in the mud and the squelch of mud under foot was enough to make him cringe, though he was quick to discover it was not quite so obnoxious the faster he moved, as long as he didn’t give his weight a lot of time to sink his paws in deep, plus there was less resistance when he moved. It was sort of like running in sand: it took lot of energy and fight to propel himself forward as he fought with the wetland; but he is a hunter and he will adapt. There is movement in the left corner of his eye and his steps cease, his white tipped cape hairs bristling with unease as his head snaps, in turn, in her direction. As his burning gaze searches wildly for her — though she is not hard to miss as her flame kissed coat stands out a bit like a sore thumb — his lip curls back in an animalistic gesture, a low warning noise rumbling in his throat seconds before he discerns that she is a pack mate and not a threat. Declan’s posture relaxes and he changes directions so that he moves to close the distance between them. She is scarred, he notices, and he drinks in her scent heavy as it is with the pregnant queen’s and by extension Ceannasach’s. He does not trust sight alone and he is able to discern that she is, indeed, healthy and of a mature age from her scent without thinking how his sniffing at her neck might not be appreciated.

He greets her as he greets anyone he does not know: letting his nose tell him what he wants to know as he attempts to assess where they fall in his own personal line of hierarchy which as black and white as they come: dominate or submissive? August was submissive, Lotte was dominate …Ceannasach was dominate (most of the time) and Conan was the only one that fit within the abstract grey area. Where his beloved brother stood in his own personal and rigid hierarchy honesty depended on the day and what kind of mood Declan was in on said day. That was not something he could easily categorize but then again he wasn’t terribly sure how to categorize their relationship, either. The feral Commander does not speak his feelings and this remains true with his love for his brother. A love that had never been “brotherly” at all, even when they’d been small children. It blurs many lines that leaves Declan fumbling with it when he tries to make sense of it so he does not. He simply feels it.

He pulls back, putting space between them once more — providing she has not put distance between them on her own — and if she allows him he will move to circle her once before it his assessment is finished.

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