Dragoncrest Cliffs Dynasty

In the chaos circulating their upheaval, he had found less time to dwell on his upcoming contribution, and what it would all mean for him. Maybe he'd lulled himself into thinking that it wouldn't come about too soon; Wildfire was pretty young, the winter seeming a little unpredictable already, and he'd not entirely sorted his matters with Portia either. But soon the painfully unmistakable scent of season came to him and he knew his nose wasn't lying. Suddenly he was keenly aware of a great many more things, and how he ought to approach them -- perhaps most loudly of all, that basal, carnal craving that odor inspired in his kind.

On hearing Wildfire's summons, he was on his way shortly after with a stiff tail and a long stride. He knew what would come soon after. If Wildfire's determination towards this all carried over onto now, he had little doubt that she'd have what she wanted. Deep down he was gleaning his share of satisfaction from knowing he could help her, solidify the pack's future, and perpetuate his genes all in one fell swoop. It was not an opportunity to pass aside.

Even over the the seasalt, her scent remained loud and blaring. He squinted against the misted breeze and neared her smoothly, already having noticed she was still alone as he zeroed in nose-first. "Wildfire," the gold wocha greeted in a low rumble when he reached her, and he had to remind himself to click his jaw shut entirely while watching carefully. In his experience, females could vary wildly and he already felt his heart racing in anticipation of what she may bring. Neither had he been so close to the scent of heat in quite some time, and greedily he savored it, yearning quietly already.

His tail wagged, arced up, and he stood before her in her power while they presumably awaited the commander's arrival -- as requested.