Ravensblood Forest I was doing just fine before I met you.

For Constantine!

Darkness enveloped Ravensblood Forest, and Durnehviir was a creature of the night. She prowled the woodland in silence, dainty paws careful on the terrain, crimson ears tall atop her crown as she followed the trail of a vole that continued to evade her.

Silver moonlight broke through the dense canopy above, dappling her back as she stalked through the foliage. When she heard the tiny animal rummage through leaf litter just ahead, the pale-eyed Frostfur paused immediately in her tracks. She stared at her intended snack, trying to gauge the best approach, and just as she prepared to stride forward and strike, another silent hunter swept down from the trees to grasp the rodent between its talons.

The owl flew to reside among the branches, and Durnehviir lifted her head to frown up at it as it set about consuming its prey. Defeated, she huffed softly and swiftly made her way out of the area, slipping away into the night to seek another bite to eat.

He trailed after her –she was still a mystery to him, but if he considered why he knew it was the distance he maintained between himself and the others. But she was addictive, and as much as he was hesitant to become so close to another, the shadowrunner found himself drawn to her, though he was still very aware that a certain white dove rested now within his home.
 
The moon played delicately upon the fire of her fur, setting her aglow. It was her champagne eyes that truly captured him, and as she continued to rove the forest, Constantine found himself picking up his pace, now drifting in and out of the shadows as his fiery gaze sought her own. His tongue swept darkly past his lips, his eyes intense upon her. Slowing now, he tried to sidle up along her side, his presence making itself known with a brazen touch of his muzzle to the delicate pale fur at her nape.

She heard him before she saw him, a fiery ear canted backward atop her fine crown to drink deep the familiar sound of his padding paws. Durnehviir had hoped he'd seek her out and, as his steps drew nearer, she abandoned her hunt and eased herself into a more relaxed pace to allow him the opportunity to catch up.

Constantine did not hesitate to brush alongside her, heat and electricity passing between the meshing of their pelts. She paused in her tracks then, crooning softly as his raven muzzle pressed against her nape, and she turned her head enough to part her jaws and gently preened the soft fur of her dark companion's strong shoulder.

Durnehviir longed for him often, sometimes innocently and in fleeting moments, craved something more intense. The mere sight of him set her skin aflame and her heart aflutter, and he drew her in without even trying. She pulled back from him slightly, lifting her pale gaze to seek the warm sunset hue of his bold eyes, and smiled in her contentment. "Constantine," she breathed, barely a whisper. Their relationship confused her, yet there she stood - eager to lose herself once more in his embrace.

She was addictive – her touch warmed him, and he felt her eagerness with a feeling of relief. Like he was finally coming home. His nose drifted along the fur of her neck, greedy in his ministrations as he inhaled her scent softly. His name fell like a croon from her lips, and he felt a surge of possessiveness for the dragoness.
 
They barely knew one another.
 
“I want to show you something, sometime,” he murmured, pulling his face back to study her gently. If this were to turn in to develop further.. to turn in to something more, there were parts of his life he would not keep from her, even if he was unwilling to revisit them himself. Honesty was the next step, was it not?

Constantine met her gaze, and she struggled to keep herself from melting into a puddle of happy goop at his paws. Her expression softened and her feathery tail swished gently at her pale hocks, champagne eyes glimmering with fondness for him. Durnehviir remained blissfully unaware of the turmoil he faced; she was not to know that, while he cared for her and found comfort in her embrace, his heart yearned for another. Entirely inexperienced in the ways of love and courtship, lost in the beauty of her budding affection for a man she barely knew, Durnehviir simply followed the pull of her naive heart - wanting to believe that he had eyes for only her, as she did for him.

She was scared, however. The fear of being left behind was ever present, but in the presence of Constantine she did not let this rule her mind. Instead she focussed on the moment, the here and now. Her future looked brighter and more promising than ever before, and despite the urge to know what her enigmatic leader thought of her, Durnehviir did not press the matter. We must be patient, little dragon, she recalled her uncle's gentle advice following rejection at a pack's outskirts, for patience is at the root of all good that comes to us.

When he spoke to her, the russet Frostfur swooned. Curious, she fluttered her lashes and canted a fiery lobe: " What do you wish to show me?" Durnehviir asked, prompting an answer from him with a delicate arch of her brow. 

Her question lingered on the air as he paused, his eyes gently studying her before a soft and rumbling sigh escaped him. Had he been human, he would have brushed his hand through his hair, Instead, he delicately nudged her, his heart stirring as he wondered how she would take everything. “My past,” he finally offered, his own muzzle tipping slightly. He would take her to Donnelaith – the ruins something he never wished to see again.. but, it was suddenly important for her to see them. To know.
 
“I also need to take a quick trip south of here to a pack called Moonspear. Aria – have you met her? She’s an old friend, but she’s lost her memories. Last I seen her before she joined us was there – I want to know what happened to her.” He paused again, wondering what she thought – if perhaps, once they were more settled, she would journey with him.

When it became apparent that Constantine did not wish to show her sunshine and roses, her smile faltered. Concern glimmered in her pearly gold eyes, which lingered helplessly on the swarthy leader's dark features as he exhaled a sigh. Durnehviir emitted a soft whine and, flicking her tongue hesitantly over her upper lip, gingerly lifted her lovely crown to gingerly touch her muzzle to the downy fur of his cheek. He spoke of his past, a familiar sorrow in his tone that took her back to her own uncertain infancy, a reminder of her troubled beginning.

Constantine did not continue on the matter, and Durnehviir did not press. She knew very little of his background and hoped he might open up about it more as they got to know one another, though understood his reluctance. It had taken years of ignoring the inner turmoil before admitting that she was ready to remember her time in the Teekon. It was still a delicate topic, though she was learning to better manage her fragile emotion.

Constantine changed the subject, mentioning his intended trip to a Southern pack and asking if she'd crossed paths with another wolfess. She shook her head then, indicating she'd not yet met the female who'd apparently lost her memories and, more notably, was an "old friend" of Constantine. Something uncertain tightened within her breast as she considered his connection to this female might be stronger than the one he shared with her, a budding jealously that roused a new feeling of guilt.

Durnehviir lifted her gaze once more, seeking the warmth of his fiery eyes as he studied her for response. I'll follow you anywhere, she yearned to tell him, but instead she remained rooted. She did not know if the brute wished for her to accompany him on this trip - why else would he inform her of it? Curious, she canted her head slightly, champagne eyes questioning: "do you think that Moonspear will have the answers?"

Her question was something he lingered on for a moment, and finally the dark Mayfair lifted his shoulders in a gentle shrug, his muzzle giving a shake to indicate he did not readily have the answer. “I don’t know,” he replied with honesty, his thoughts churning back to the wolves of Moonspear. If Floki was there, surely he might have an answer? Aria and he had been close – close enough that Constantine had realized his own feelings for the girl were overshadowed by her attraction to the Moonspear Beta. “Even if they do.. I’m not sure they’ll readily speak it. I doubt I’ll receive a warm welcome.” It was likely a pointless journey – but he had to try.
 
“I would take Aria to see if it triggers any memories.. but I don’t want to overwhelm her.” His tongue slid across his lips for a moment, and his eyes drifted to study the fiery woman before him, his expression softening. “I’d rather your company,” he rumbled, wondering what she felt of that.

He didn't know if Moonspear would solve the mystery of Aria's lost memory, and her ears tipped back gently, and went on to include that he doubted he would be welcomed there. Durnehviir looked at her dark companion, uncertainty and confusion swimming her gaze as she sought his bright eyes. Had he lived there once, alongside the wolfess he wished to help? Did he abandon them? If he did, who was to say he wouldn't leave Ravensblood, too? Inhaling deeply, the russet Frostfur concentrated then on reigning in her paranoia, and decided against asking why he did not think Moonspear's wolves would answer his questions.

Constantine went on to request her company, and she dipped her muzzle in agreement. "I will," the crimson beauty told him. "Did you... live there, once? At Moonspear?" Durnehviir asked, an air of hesitance around her as she contemplated whether or not she really wanted to know the answer.

She seemed uncertain – he studied her, noting the change in her demeanour around this conversation.  Uncertain exactly to what set off the wall that she was suddenly starting to build, Constantine found himself drawing upward, confusion pulling at his features momentarily before the shadowrunner offered a gentle ‘hm.’ He had been ready to open up further to her – to take her to the ruins of Donnelaith and tell her of his past. His demons. Had this been what had set her off? Was he moving too fast? Perhaps he had read their situation wrong?
 
“Yes,” he answered, his wolfish brows arching upward, drawing back with a whip of his tail. “For a brief while. Aria wished to stay there for the winter. But it wasn’t home.” It was all he would explain for now – he could not bring himself to tell her of the devastation of Donnelaith just yet – he had to show her.

He, too, seemed confused. While Durnehviir found him to be enigmatic and at times distant, she hadn't considered the possibility that he might think similar of her. Withdrawing, the fiery she-wolf chuffed as she strode forward, inviting him to join in her in her wandering through the trees. Awkwardness had clearly sprung, and there was no point in lingering around staring at one another as they struggled for one to find the bravery to simply ask the other what was wrong.

Constantine admitted that he'd lived among the ranks of Moonspear, and her budding suspicion regarding he and Aria began to bloom. Her heart thrumming in her ears, Durnehviir racked her suddenly troubled mind for something - anything - to fill the silence that came to linger. She turned her head, briefly looking over a slim shoulder to gauge the swarthy leader's expression, and swallowed. "You and Aria...?" Durnehviir left the question open, allowing her companion to take from it what he wished while reminding herself that while she was wildly attracted to Constantine, he was not hers.

The air seemed to thicken with something – hesitation, uncertainty? Constantine had never been a wordsmith, but it was rare he found himself stumbling for something to say. Durnehviir moved away from him, though her gentle voice beckoned him to walk with her, and withholding a light scowl, the shadowrunner moved after her, feeling the cold air where her warm touch had been only seconds before.
 
She looked back at him then, and the question from her lips was the last one he had expected from their conversation prior. He blinked then, his scowl becoming more prominent as he considered where this came from. It was a moment of different paths for the Mayfair – to be upfront and honest with the fiery she-wolf, as he desired to be.. or to cling to the way he had wanted to move forward. A way that had not included potentially upsetting the dragoness before him.
 
“Friends,” he said slowly, his pace slowing now. His shoulders rolled back as he straightened, his tongue sliding past his lips as he considered his words. “It might have turned in to more in the past, but the timing was never right. And I don’t think she reciprocated my feelings.” He chose honesty – but he wanted to continue, before any wave of hurt took hold of her. “In case I wasn’t clear with my intentions toward you, Durnehviir.. I don’t make a habit of trying to cozy up next to a girl for the sake of it. I like you. I want to court you. I want to get to know you better.” He stopped now, feeling the words slip past and a bout of nervousness press to his chest. Constantine had experienced certain aspects of life – growth, family, friendship, battle.. death. But he had never been so honest with a female before of his feelings for her – and he couldn’t think of anything more terrifying in that moment, as his eyes sought her champagne gaze.

She regretted asking about his relationship with Aria almost as soon as she did, and her rusty ears tilted back to accompany the submissive bow of her head. Noting the swarthy wolf's scowl and mistaking it for anger with her, Durnehviir's feathery tail swept low and she turned her face away. From her lips came a soft whine, almost inaudible, a poor excuse for an attempt at apology.

Constantine answered her simply, and she slowed her pace as he did. Her immediate thought was not to believe him, telling herself that he said this only because it was what she wished to hear, before she mentally kicked herself and dared to look at him again. Durnehviir parted her jaws to respond, but he went on to admit that there could have been the possibility for something more and promptly cracked them shut, a glisten of disappointment in her opalescent eyes.

The flicker of despair within her remained, even when her dark-furred leader swayed the topic of discussion from the competition to Durnehviir herself, and she found herself holding the sharp breath that she sucked in. It wasn't the first time someone had told her they wished to court her, but he was the first that she wished to allow. Doubt, however, clouded any delight she might've had for Constantine's admission; how was she to believe that she wasn't simply second best to the girl that got away?

"I..." She tried to say something, anything, but could not find the words. Wide-eyed, the russet beauty gawked dumbly at her companion and let silence hang awkwardly over them as she struggled to think of what to say. "Forgive me," Durnehviir finally managed, easing to a gentle halt in order to collect herself. "I am foolish." Durnehviir had spent her whole life trying to be strong and right there, in that moment, as her champagne gaze rose to meet the vibrant tangerine of the male who'd so easily drew her in, her walls came crashing down around her.

"I want that too," the crimson Frostfur admitted softly, her voice thick with emotion and tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "When I first saw you, I just... knew. That you'd be important to me somehow. I've spent every single day since trying to make sense of it, because I've never felt this way about anybody."

He could not fathom the uncertainty in her eyes – surely that’s what it was? He mentally kicked himself for being the cause of it, and hesitated in his pace, wishing to sweep her in his embrace and soothe her. Even after her own admission of wishing for him to court her, he felt hesitant to touch her now -- nervous that anything he might say or do in this moment would only fuel her doubts.
 
It was when his bright gaze caught the trace of tears in her eyes that he swept forward almost fiercely, his stocky form making to enfold her against him as his muzzle preened at the velvet fur of her nape. “I feel that way too – I can’t explain it,” he murmured, hoping to reassure her that she was not alone in this.
 
The trees were silent for now – as if the ravens were watching the show below in entertainment. The quiet was something he usually felt comfortable in, but now he felt the need to speak – to say something from losing the warmth of her from his side again. “I want to explore this further.”

He did not leave her to linger, but instead swept in to support her. Durnehviir let herself lean into her dark guardian's embrace, forehead snug against his swarthy chest as she inhaled sharply in attempt to steel herself against the tug of her emotions. 

Constantine caressed the ginger fur behind an ear, delicately preening and soothing, and the russet beauty felt herself begin to deflate. He spoke to her with words of assurance, reminding her that he was right there. Instead of turning tail and running from her confession, he seemed to welcome the rawness of her feelings by admitting that his own heart had experienced similar turmoil.

She stepped as close as she could, tucking herself firmly against her dark-pelted companion and flicking her tongue past soft lips to the warm fur of his throat. "We should," Durnehviir encouraged simply, releasing herself from her companion's hold only to look upon his face and seek to meet his smouldering gaze.