Ravensblood Forest You're breaking up, you're on your own.
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#1
All Welcome 
Hoping for WhisperDawn, but otherwise AW.  :)

Durnehviir, for the past few days, has kept herself entirely to herself. Refraining from venturing beyond the borders, she opted to remain hidden away in the heart of their bleeding forest, avoiding her pack-mates in the approach of a new heat cycle. Irritable and hormonal, her decision to disappear for a time is not only for her own good but that of her unsuspecting comrades.

Not even Constantine has been brave enough to seek her out, it seemed. Her thoughts are always with him, however, and her fear of what he might think when he does seek her out is all too real. Her body yearned for his, but she worried that her avoidance of him would force him further away. Quiet, the russet Frostfur passed her time with a careful grooming session as she tried not to stress over the matter, and set about preening her fur in the cold afternoon sunlight that broke through the evergreens.
everything mortal fades away in time, but the spirit remains
to stab my youth with desperate knives
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#2
since whisper is ppc right now, i'll steal this :D


 it is that finicky season, but without any particular interest in engaging in the fineries of reproduction, samothes is largely uninvolved. though interested in both men and women he has found he prefers the company of men (at least sexually), lacks a real desire to reproduce (at least in this stage of life), and anyway, it's not as if there are any prospects (the women of ravensblood are lovely, and firmly not his type). 

when he finds durnehviir alone, he is a little surprised: he is not blind to the affections between her and their leader, even if it is beyond his concerns. he would assume constantine would be guarding her jealously though -- he could be wrong about the nature of their relationship, et cetera, one never knows, does one. either way he has not had much opportunity to pass the time with the russet-furred woman and so cautiously steps into view, careful to avoid coming too close less he inadvertently muck up some courtship ritual he's not aware of, and chuffs a greeting.
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Durnehviir's teeth combed the soft ivory fur of her chest, plucking from it the twigs and dirt that had gathered in her wanderings through the forest. When satisfied, she smoothed the pale tresss with a gentle sweep of her tongue before setting about working on the next section of her coat. Should she decide to present herself to Constantine in the days to come, the russet Frostfur wished to be pristine.

The arrival of another was unexpected, and she jerked her head to the side at the soft chuff of a pack-mate. Wild champagne eyes sought his form among the bleeding trees and she rumbled gently - a quiet warning to keep his distance. He stepped into view and Durnehviir gathered herself, hackles pricklinging to attention until her bold guard hairs stood erect along the length of her spine. 

For a long time, it had only been Samothes, Constantine and herself to call Ravensblood their home. She admired his loyalty to their small group and liked him well enough, but it didn't protect him from her flaring hormones. She stared at him for a while, silent and unmoving, waiting for him to make his intentions known.
everything mortal fades away in time, but the spirit remains
to stab my youth with desperate knives
154 Posts
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#4


his greeting is met with a fair warning -- the messeda boy stops, calmly taking a couple steps back before sitting. ah, hormones. his body instinctively responds, feeling a heady rush course through him, but he does not feel the need to risk those beautiful teeth (hers or their swarthy leader's). 

"my apologies if this is an inopportune time," samothes says smoothly, "i've no desire to... interrupt your..." er. he makes a vague gesture with his paw, adopting a slightly sheepish mien. he still half expects constantine to burst from the trees to scold him (which makes the moment a little more titillating than he'd like to admit). 
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He did not advance toward her, thankfully, and even sought to place greater distance between them by taking a few careful strides backward before settling into a seated position. Durnehviir watched him quietly, bristled and lingering uncomfortably in her place. Her champagne eyes never drifted far from his pale features, and she maintained her tension despite the assurance that he had no desire to court her.

She cleared her throat then, smoothing back a chestnut lobe with curiosity. "Did you wish to speak with me?" Durnehviir asked, a certain sharpness in her tone. There had been no time that she and Samothes had conversed privately so why now, of all times, did he seek to chat with her?
everything mortal fades away in time, but the spirit remains
to stab my youth with desperate knives
154 Posts
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#6
sorry for the wait!

it is not often sam feels flustered, but durnehviir exudes an authority that he can't help but feel slightly chastised by. but he's made this bed and by god he is going to lie in it. there is no room for retreat in the messeda world of conversation. (this is what he tells himself to save himself the indignity of departing with his tail between his legs, for now.)

"about nothing in particular," he confirms, still sheepish. "we've just not had the chance to get to know one another, despite our shared longevity." just a spot of bad timing. surely she'll understand. ahem. "if you'd prefer to be alone at the moment, i can go," samothes adds assuredly, not wanting her to think he's going to awkwardly hover and make small talk at her. he has some class.
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#7
Fading this.  :)

He wished to speak with her of nothing, was the pale boy's admission. Durnehviir blinked at this, curious, though his explanation cleared up any uncertainty. It was true, she supposed; they'd been pack-mates for some time, yet neither had seemed to care enough to initiate one-on-one conversation with the other.

The tawny beauty's tall ears drooped with this acknowledgement, and guilt tightened her chest. Mustering a half-hearted, almost timid smile, she bowed her head in silent agreement. Constantine was important to them both, and while Durnehviir had always respected and appreciated Samothes' commitment to Ravensblood and their small pack, she felt it made sense for them to at least try to be friends.

"No," she told him, her tone far gentler than before. "Let's talk."

everything mortal fades away in time, but the spirit remains