Moonspear but when it comes you close your window

night fell over the moonspear cliffs and along with it the temperature fell. terance had already begun growing out his winter coat, and every day he looked more and more huggable-- his fur beginning to cover parts of his bear scar. despite the drop in temperature, the weather was perfect, only a few clouds lingering in the sky. he was closer to the middle of the territory (for once), and still had a pretty clear view of the sky through the trees. 

he settled himself on his side, paws crossed like some sort of dainty girl, and tipped his head back to see the sky. mentally, he mapped out the stars he knew and began to sort through the rest of the constellations... one thing always led to another.

he was searching for something specific now, however. it was finally autumn, and osprey had shown him one constellation in particular that appeared around this time of the year... and he was set on relocating it in the sky.

The night came and stole the daylight, it’s velveteen darkness swallowing everything in it’s path in writhing shadows as the moon took her place among the stars where the sun once burned deviantly. The tundrian had just wrapped up a patrol and was heading inland in search of something to hunt and hopefully nibble on before he settles down for the night. His ‘bachelor’ den is large but it often feels like it’s walls as crumbling and closing in on him and he sleeps fitfully in it’s depths before he scrambles outside of it to curl up close to it beneath the protective branches of the nearby pine tree to offer him some shelter from the elements. He hates his den. As he’d told Hydra: it felt like a death trap. A way to easily be cornered and a cage all in one. It was all in his mind, of course, but he prefers to see the sky. He can’t breathe when he’s concealed by earth. The colder months are upon them now, winter is coming and Drogon is suddenly grateful for all of his bulk and fur. He’s a beast of winter, after all. Wintersbane. The cold never bothered him anyway.

Drogon’s pace slows, his thoughts gone the moment he realizes he’s subconsciously following a scent trail — and not a prey scent trail; it does not take the soturi long to find the man though he admittedly blends in rather well with the shadows. Glacial blue eyes sweep the stranger/his packmate over where he lays upon the ground with his forelegs crossed, appearing to look up at the stars. Drogon sneaks a glimpse upwards but when he sees nothing noteworthy ( for the stars all look like mini suns to him with nothing overly extraordinary because he's got no imagination ) his gaze lowers and he lets out a low chuff to announce his presence to the other male.

tearing his attention from the sky, terance looked to the newcomer-- a pup, though older. he'd never seen this kid around before, but as his nose twitched he found the scent of moonspear mixed in with his natural scent-- so terance was unalarmed.

"hey," he said, ears still perked, "i'm terance." he didn't really know if he should like... offer to stargaze with him because terance thought that stargazing with someone was kind of romantic. that would make this interaction sort of gay-- and he had no feelings for any boys ever. strictly female. strictly female, no male wolf ever. not even charcoal coated males with broad shoulders and pretty turquoise eyes-- not even them. 

but this was also a kid, and terance suddenly realized he was merely trying to convince himself of something. he tossed up a smile, pushing away thoughts of his newfound friend and focusing on this guy. "i'm looking at constellations, if you wanna join me." he offered, tail tapping against the ground. maybe he could pass on some knowledge or something-- make osprey's constellation known. he thought she'd like that.

Drogon’s ears swivel and cup forth, attentive atop his skull as the older male introduces himself as Terance. “Drogon.” The tundrian introduces himself in his deep, smoky resonance. There is a moment of silence between them that almost feels awkward and the leijona shifts his weight almost wishing that he’d never have interrupted Terance’s …well whatever it was he’d been doing staring so intently at the sky. Despite this, Drogon was attentive once more as Terance puts forth an explanation — he’s stargazing — and an offer for the Ansbjørn lion to join him. Drogon’s tail gives a contemplative brush against his hocks and his glacial gaze rises from his compatriot to the sky for a moment before it flickers back down to rest upon Terance. Stargazing isn’t Drogon’s thing ( in fact it strikes him as quite boring ) but he deduces that it would seem quite rude to refuse, especially since this man is a packmate and getting to know them better is all apart of the package deal of calling himself a Moonspearian, surely. “What are constellations?” Drogon eventually asks, not sure he’s ever heard the word before ( and if he has, he clearly doesn't remember ). He doesn’t mean to sound ignorant — and hates admitting that he doesn’t know things — but it seemed necessary considering Terance was going to find out anyway. Drogon's age was showing and swallowing that bitter pill of pride was a lot harder than he had initially thought it might be.

drogon. terance felt he could remember that, it reminded him a little bit of dragon... and therefore all of the hundreds of stories his mother had told him about dragons. that didn't mean this drogon guy would be anything like his mother-- or a dragon-- but it was nice to have a connection to mentally put with a face.

if there was an hesitation or reluctancy, terance couldn't sense it. drogon sat himself right down and asked a question, which was-- to terance-- the only way to be interested in something. "constellations are like groups of stars that make pictures or shapes," he replied, turning his nose back up to the sky, "some of 'em are a stretch though." like the dumb sheep... er, ram. like the dumb ram. osprey had pointed it out numbers of times, and terance could point it out in the sky-- he could see it right now-- but it didn't look like a fucking ram. it was just a line. a dumb line. he decided to share that.

"like, uh, you see... that star?" he began, pointing his nose nose. shit-- could he explain this properly? oh well, he'd already started. "if you go... down, like to the left, that's one end of it, and then go back to that first one, and down the the right... and then the two just beneath that guy..." he squinted, making sure he'd counted right. "that's supposed to be a ram." he made a face, like 'people are crazy, right?'

Drogon’s lips press together to form a pensive line, his ears pivoting atop his skull as Terance explains that constellations are shapes or pictures in the sky. Drogon looks skeptically at the night sky that yawns wide and infinitely above them realizing that he more than likely lacks the imagination necessary to see to such things in the littering of stars that break the velveteen darkness above them. Oh, how he has the devil’s knack for weaving stories but sat him down in front of the sky and ask him to find the lion constellation and he’d never find it. Not even if it was pointed out to him. Evidenced by a real life example as Terance starts at a star and Drogon unsure which of the billion or so stars he was supposed to be looking at tries to follow Terance’s pointed path — to no avail. He’s supposed to be looking for a ram but he still just sees dots. No lines, no outlines. Just peppered dots that blink out at him — some much brighter than the others. “…I don’t see it.” Drogon admits, glimpsing as Terance to judge the older male’s reaction. “I don’t think I’m anywhere near imaginative enough to stargaze.” As far as Drogon is concerned: it takes a talent that he simply doesn’t have and he finds no shame in admitting that. He might look like his nightingale mother but it’s clear that her creativity skipped him. Instead, he’s much more pragmatic: like his cutthroat father’d been.

terance didn't take drogon's comment offensively, in fact, all it did was reinforce his belief that aries was a stupid ass constellation! he preferred the little dipper, or the big dipper, which looked far more like what they were supposed to. 

whatever.

"nah that's not a thing. aries is fuckin' stupid," he said, then paused, "just, don't worry about it... it isn't for everyone." his gaze raised back upwards, back into the sky and stars. he took a few moments of the silence to think about his mother, who he hoped was looking up at that same sky, before he broke the silence again-- out of character, but terance was practically rambling on like osprey today. whoops. "what do you do?" he asked. terance stargazed and protected, what did this guy do?

editing a small conclusion on this & archiving. :-)

Drogon’s ears slick back to rest at half mast atop his skull as Terance counters his statement about his lack of imagination not being a thing and announces that ‘Ares’ is “fucking stupid”. The tundrian lets out a low grunt ( of possible contemplation ) as he deduces that ‘Ares’ must be the ram. “It has a name?” Drogon can’t help the snort that tears itself from his nostrils. Why, exactly, did imaginary shapes in the stars have names? “No, it’s not.” The leijona responds in a quiet, gruff murmur of agreement. His gaze lowers from the stars ( though it’s a useless venture for Drogon as he cannot make sense of nor see any shapes in them ) to focus upon Terance as the older male asks him what he does. “I’m a warrior and a tactician …or I will be when I earn my specialties,” Drogon gives a moment’s pause before adding, “and I hunt.” Though he tends to grow bored when he’s out tracking the movements of the herds. It’s fine when they’re on the move but he can only stand about half an hour of watching them graze in one spot before he starts to go stir-crazy. Drogon and sitting still do not mix very well.

The pair talk for a little while longer before, eventually, parting and heading their separate ways within Moonspear's territory.