Wapun Meadow i can feel your teeth on my paper-moon skin

backdated a day or two, perhaps when everyone is rescuing indra after the snowstorm. feel free to hop in.
tagging for visiblity!!!

she was becoming restless.  it had been days that she and her pale-coated alpha had been kept up together near his childhood den, and though she enjoyed him she missed being able to stretch out her legs, she missed sitting on her rock, she missed hunting.

so in the early morning she broke from their clearing, @Xan already gone, and pushed her way out of the valley entirely, wandering into the meadow at its mouth.

he had followed the scattering tracks of what must have been a severely deranged hare -- up until it slipped into the fold of a pack's borders. unwilling to test the nature of a wolf's protective teeth, ich'aak had turned from the borders and headed for the meadow.

as he traisped across the empty expanse he thought he scented something enticing and alluring -- more than once the bouquet tested him, and more than once he gave pause and inhaled deep into the cold air.

it was not a scent he could isolate, and so, he continued his trek across the lonely landscape until he saw the shape of a wolf. under normal circumstances ich'aak might have avoided the silhouette, except it was female and as he drew closer, he suspected she may be the originator of his interest. quietly he drew to a halt and regarded her, his moss-green eyes laid plainly on her figure.

she still had yet to understand exactly the changes her body was going through; she had always been too stressed or malnourished to go through a heat.  yet even through her pheremone-induced haze she bristled at someone so close to home.  

with disregard to her present state, she traipsed closer, packed snow crunching heavily under foot as she closed the distance between them.

her tail was raised, ears pushed forward as she let out a questioning woof — what did he want here?

tantalizing as her scent was, he did not draw closer. she rivaled him in height, and he was not one to push his luck. her scent, however, inticed him to press the distance beween them. he chuffed softly, a wave of his tail given as he bobbed his muzzle.

she was distinctly wolf, and not at all of his kith -- but he was magnetized to her. he canted his muzzle to the side as he interpreted her silent query. tenderly, he let loose a lone and solemn howl set to serenade her. his lilting song did not have the tenacity of a wolf, but it carried soft and tender notes with it and ended on a gentle, almost floral finish.

and what a noise it was!

the nonverbal woman finished closing the distance between them, probing her nose down his withers and rear, circling around before setting her mismatched gaze about this creature.

he was decidedly not a wolf.  she had very few run-ins with these creatures during her time alone, and her opinion of them was not very high.  but this one was not trying to hurt her, to take her food, or the flesh from her bone.

but that did not mean that he wouldn't.

she returned his songs with a tentative howl of her own, crisp and full as it cut through the winter air and carried across the meadow with ease.  soon after she paired it with curious vocalizations.  why was he so close, and what did he want from her?  maybe she could take him home, if he stayed nice, and they could live in the valley together.

a chill rendered his spin as her body contacted him; she sent her muzzle down his flank, the heat of her body emanating across her body to his. he was not ignorant to the sensation that thrilled him; he knew what had overcome her, and if she would allow it, he would gladly rid her of its pesty existence.

she returned his song with a cutting call of her own -- it dwarfed his song by sheer measure, crawling through the sky in high pitches that he was incapabale of. as her muzzle was tilted to the sky he brought himself closer, throwing his head up in wild abandon, a shrill rejoinder issued through his slim muzzle.

he sang to her of the shadowed copses of the south -- of the verdant rims of saltwater pools of his homeland, of the limestone rimmed lips of the agua clara -- he sang to her of the silence that settled around dusk and the chitter of bats and denizens of the deep recesses of distant caves. finally he sang to her the bloodbath of his people, the fierceness of his gods, and the cruel exile of his iniquity -- each song was fevered in pitch and accompanied by tentative notes of sorrow -- and when he had finished his story he drove his muzzle to hers, his eyes locked to her own in rapture, wanting deeply of her flesh.

she felt him bristle and burn against her touch and against her will it brought forth a throbbing in her ventral areas.  her tail beat wildly in short, fast bursts, tucked against her body.

and when he sang for her again the emotion was communicated to her (although the details were lacking).  this is what she had been craving her whole life, someone able to communicate to her without words, who would not be frustrated with her incapacity.  and it's what she felt — at least, in this moment.

his gaze was fierce as it came back to her and she offered him a suppliant whine.  it was now obvious to her what he wanted and her body wanted to give in, but she knew better.  her mind was pulled back to her home in the valley.  

she could not come home smelling like another man.  that, for certain, would get her sent packing.  there was something else, too.  what would xan think?

she pulls back from him, heart hammering in her chest.  she couldn't run, she still wanted to bring him home with her.  he was nice.  what now?  what now?  what now?

as he finished his sorrowful song she whined, pushing against him. he did not contest her reaction  -- instead he watched her as if a caged bird; careful, intelligent, wary.

he glanced besides her, towards the deep rift of the valley. wrongfully he assumed her reluctance come from his breed and not her loyalty. carefully he attempted to bury his muzzle in the tufts of her shoulder, but he made no move to bother her further. either way she would not understand his tongue -- he relied on the true call of the wild to make his intentions and whims clear to her. like all wild things she was free to do with the interpretations as she pleased without judgment or repercussion.

he seemed flighty, stiff, and she worried that if she made one wrong move he would bolt, and she would not be able to steal him and his lilting howls back to the valley with her.

at his touch, flashes of previous sexual endeavors came to mind.  he was wild, he was anxious, he would be just like them.  she could not allow herself to be claimed by a man outside the valley's walls — but it was hard.

his muzzle, prying through the fur at her withers pulled the hair along her spine straight upward, and she provided him with another desperate, wanting whine.  it was like her body required one thing and her mind another.  confused by the warmth spreading through her ventral regions despite her mind's vehement protest, her head whipped round and her teeth clashed against one another in a weak warning, but the warnings stopped there.

he was aware of the conflict that roiled in her - he steadied any further advance, instead fixing her with a somewhat inquisitive stare. their strange dance in the wapun meadows was as old as any, but he felt there was restraint in her step and reservation in the soft whine that spilled from her parted jaws. he watched her carefully, noticing the shift in posture a moment too late as her teeth snapped close to his cheek.

he sprung back lightly, his hackles rifling in surprise. he made no other move to approach her this time, instead electing to stay rooted in the spot he had landed in. he did not think her actions were play - there was something too solemn about her deportment to ilicit any sort of feelings of gambol. his tail swept back and forth over his hocks and he cast her a quizzical stare with his head tilted to the side like a listing ship and both long ears pressed forward in question. he did not understand the hesitancy in her actions, or the pining way she whined; he thought she was sending him mixed messages and did not know which signal carried more earnest - yes or no.

she is thankful for his prolonged hesitence, his lack of forceful inistence that they give in to nature's call and copulate.  she didn't know how long she would be able to resist him if he had pushed her harder.

solemnly she increased the distance between them, but turned around and beckoned him with a swing of her head.  come home with me.

does any guy EVER have 2 be asked twice to come home with u I THINK NOT!

she turned to leave. ich'aak felt disappointment string her heart, but he would not insist further. if she had been of coyote blood, perhaps it would have been different -- as it was, she still outweighed him and he was not one to put his own neck on the line with minimal reward.

she stopped; he tilted his head in the other direction, his skull rotating like some sonar device. her wordless meaning was clear -- with a jolt he made to trot after her though he kept his distance lest her skull come swinging back to him again. in truth, he did not mind walking behind her anyway - it afforded him certain sights (and smells) he was rarely rewarded.

LMAO you're so sweet omg
-pushes ichaak off a cliff- PP WITH PERMISSION GUYS

she was pleased to see her pretty friend with the pretty voice follow with little hesitation.  eagerly, she trotted closer and closer to the borders of her pack, swinging back to make sure he was still there every once in a while.

she rounded upon her boulder and turned to face him —

but he was gone.