Love me tender
Fear is the heart of love
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#1
being vague because things

title is because I just saw All Shook Up and def one of my favorites now *o*

After her second meeting with Red, Rosalyn took off north, ready to stretch her legs and explore a little more.  No offense to Red, but the rogue wasn't the dependable type.  They'd run into one another again sometime, likely unless of course she decided to move on completely before then.  She did want to see a bit more of what this place had to offer. She passed by so many packlands on her way up that she imagined it had to have something special, though so far, she saw nothing but the usual dirt and trees.

Of course her wanders led her to the coast again, though rather than beaches, she met sheer cliffs.  Currently she stood at the edge of a strange forest, huge trees rising above, staring at the strip of beach far below.  She'd always been fond of cliff shores, the vantage they offered unparalleled.  She'd had a crew, once, on similar cliffs, for a month or two.  She grinned when she remembered it.  That had been a ride.  True, they'd mutinied quick enough, but she liked to think of it as their loss.  A lesson learned as well.

With a vociferous, dramatic exhale she settled at the edge, front paws dangling off the ledge, now simply watching the play of the waves and the sun's dance among them. It didn't get much more beautiful than this.
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#2
Teleporting across the map because.

Not a detail was missed as he ghosted through the wood. He crossed her path and immediately paused to inspect the scent she left on the foliage, his muzzle dipping as he then nosed around the faint marks of claws in the forest soil. For a few idle moments he considered his next step, as he was not an aimless nor impulsive creature. He did not think she was what he was looking for, but knew that scent alone could be misleading in this, and her tracks were too obscured to tell much a tale. Turning, he followed her trail.

His pace was efficient, neither hurried nor languorous. She was not far, and soon his shrewd gaze spied her reclined at the cliff's edge. He drew closer, but made no effort to alert her intentionally, and his customary stealth did not easily give him away. He was still as he watched.
Fear is the heart of love
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#3
thanks for joining!!!!!

Even if he'd been noisy, she likely wouldn't have heard.  As it was, the roar of the waves below and overpowering taste of brine on the breeze hid all traces of her observer.  Despite this blindness, she was fully relaxed and content. Living in fear was hardly her style.

Shifting away from the edge of the cliff, she noted the dance of a seabird above her head with interest, and hoped that it would venture closer. Birds weren't a lot of meat but snapping them from midair was good fun. Sadly, it wheeled away instead, off in search of a meal of its own.

"Damn," she said idly, watching it flap away.
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#4
<3!

He was a black specter, a haunt. That his presence went undetected did not surprise him. He stole closer so that his dark eyes may scrutinize the contours of her body while she was distracted by a passing seabird. His appraisal was quick; she did not possess the features he was looking for — she was as wolfish as could be, as he suspected when he first came upon her trail. No matter.

His sleek body bent as he started to turn away, but he paused mid-step, with a inky paw suspended above the ground. His ear twitched in contemplation, and then he turned back. With softer steps than a rodent could make, he crept even closer. How near could he get before she became aware of her company?
Fear is the heart of love
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#5
Deafened by waves she might be, but blind she definitely was not.  So, when her attention waned and she rose suddenly to her feet to leave, in turning she was faced with the dark stranger.  And he was close.

Were she the sort to panic, she perhaps might have taken that fatal step back.  Thankfully this was far from the truth and instead she stayed where she was, taking in his wild coat and visible fangs with unguarded interest.  Didn't he look devilish.

"Not very polite, sneaking around like that," she said, though her tone held more approval than judgement.  Manners weren't high on her list.  She might have felt threatened, but she had nothing this stranger could want, so felt no fear.
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#6
He may have gotten closer, but she tired of her idling before his dark paws could draw him nearer, and noticed him as she turned to leave. He was still, shrewd eyes focused on her, to read the nuances of her posture and expression, but she was utterly composed. He had played this game before, and had more often been met with anger and fear. He welcomed the change of pace, his mouth twitching into a roguish smile as she spoke. "My bad," he said with a smooth roll of his lean shoulders. His tail brushed his hocks as it swayed casually behind him. "I'll scuff around shouting and barking next time."
Fear is the heart of love
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#7
"That would be rather accommodating. I'm sure others would appreciate it."  As she spoke, she took in his appearance. He was an odd one on first impression.  His features held something non-wolfish about them and, when coupled with the teeth and unruly fur, lent an eerie air.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like you crawled out of a nightmare? And I mean that in the best way possible." If he didn't move away, she moved forward, catching his scent. Another loner. At least he wouldn't try to recruit her, she thought, remembering Pan affectionately. "You are one spooky bastard." Those fangs. Damn, they were fantastic.
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#8
Her comment pulled his smile into a dark grin, one that revealed more of his teeth. She strode toward him, and he not only matched her step, but took several more, his soft steps not stirring the ground in the least. He was apparitional not only in his appearance but in his unfathomably smooth and silent gait. Did he crawl out of a nightmare?

Perhaps.

He drew close enough that, as he leaned in, his breath would caress her nose. "Am I now?" he said silkily as he traced a fang with his tongue. His eyes were locked to hers, unblinking.
Fear is the heart of love
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#9
He reminded her of someone, though she couldn't put her paw on exactly what ghost it was.  She'd known many dangerous wolves in the past and run alongside some, but faces came and went like seasons to her.  The niggling feeling was irritating but she ignored it as best she could.

"I call them like I see them," she retorted breezily, unruffled by his proximity and using the closeness as a better chance to get a read on him. Judging by scent he was young, healthy. And apparently solid, from the warmth of his breath on her face, though by movement she would have guessed otherwise.

"I can't be the first one to say as much. Something tells me it's kinda what your going for." If not then it was what he got regardless. Yet he had too eerie an aura to not have some knowledge of the effect he had. "Just a hunch." Finally she did take a single backward pace, moreso to get her face out of his exhale range.
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#10
"I did not choose it. It chose me." He stated. No creature chose their appearance or their gait, and though his stealth relied on the ghostliness of his stride it was also a practiced art that made his hunting and concealment all the more effective. It was a tool for survival, not a means to cast a certain aura. However, the coywolf knew how to work with what he had been given, to use any advantage that may present itself.

She stepped back and in the same moment he took a step forward to reclaim the space she had placed between them. His mouth was curved upward in a fiendish smile. As ever, his dark eyes held her own while his tail swayed idly.
Fear is the heart of love
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#11
She wasn't completely taken with his stressing the details, nor did she see much of a difference between what he corrected and she'd said initially.  But she let it go airily.  Her brow lifted when he stepped forward in counter of her slight retreat, and her tail swayed with mild intrigue.  "Y'know, your breath is no picnic.  Didn't your mother teach you how to treat a lady?"

A sardonic smirk graced her own lips at this - the idea of his mom sitting little shark-tooth down to teach him manners was almost as amusing as the one of her being termed a 'lady'.  The shit that left her mouth was astounding.  She didn't move back again, though, taking the opportunity to inspect his teeth.  "Those are some bleeders you have there.  Don't suppose you are much good at using them?"  A slight rise entered her tone, the edge of interest impossible to hide.  No ulterior motives here.  Nope.  None.  Right.
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#12
He made no reaction to her first comment, but he lifted himself upon her second. He drew his shoulders back and raised his head. Both corners of his mouth were now pulled upward, and his mouth parted slightly so that ivory of his fangs were accompanied by a glimpse of the rest of his teeth. His confidence as he moved to take command of the situation was evident. He took another step toward her, drawing his shoulder just past hers, the impenetrable black of his coat grazing the auburn of her own. He turned his head, placing his muzzle just beside her ear as he whispered. "Yes."
Fear is the heart of love
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#13
The guy had no boundaries.  None.  And though Roz wasn't one to shy from contact, his predatory pushiness in invading her space was enough to even set her ill at ease.  Miffed by that, and the very idea a simple wolf like him could give her the creeps, she stubbornly ignored it.

"Then what say you give a little demonstration?" The words lilted suggestively. "Find us a bite of something to share?" She offered nothing outright to return, though she had little to give anyway. And anything she did have, she had no intention of actually handing over. In fact, she wasn't even sure she would share... Snagging the prize once caught and getting clear of here seemed a good option as well, if an opening was given.

Honesty wasn't much of a priority in her life.
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#14
last post for me! :D

He did not draw back; purposefully lingering in her most personal space. She spoke suggestively, but took the conversation in a different direction entirely. It did not matter; while he enjoyed teasing and tempting, she was not a coywolf and thus out of the realm of what he considered most attractive, and he had no intention of bedding her unless he she was in a state in which he could seed more of his own kind.

"Keep dreaming," he whispered, as he turned and promptly slipped away. His game had come to an end. He had his amusement and now exited, for he had even less interest in hunting for someone than he had in fornicating with them. If he hunted, he did so for himself, and only for himself. Feeding her was of no benefit to him.
Fear is the heart of love
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There was silence enough for her to hope, but in the end he shot her down.  She glared after him and threw a "Cheap bastard" at his back, but when he'd left, a smile grew on her face.  Talk about interesting characters.  Imposing.  She did hope there were more like him around.

In any event, since she'd failed in wheedling a meal out of him it was down to her to actually do some legwork. She stepped forward with a long suffering sigh, purposefully following a different route from the one he had taken. He intrigued her but that didn't mean she was going to try her luck. That guys teeth were intense.