Eshe picked her way to the Moors on their determined day. She had nearly forgotten the day of, because the morning had been hectic with her sister and, after a hunt with a packmate to-be she lost track of time. But when she remembered, her mind exploded and so too did her limbs. It wasn't too far of a trek that she truly needed to worry... and the last time they had met, it had been night. It was afternoon, now, but she determined she'd wait here for hours if she must. She might even stay the night. What if he had forgotten, and came the next day, remembering too late? Well, Eshe supposed that said plenty on his feelings for her... but, even still, there was no harm in being
friends...
It was difficult to understand her emotions, but if she were experienced at all in this, it was that the odds of being merely friends with a man she felt oddly so strongly for in the first hour of meeting him were slim to none. Eshe cared about him already, and enjoyed the carefree whimsy that came with his presence. Her loyalty was something that she had given to the Hollow. Even with Riordan there, who she fancied heavily, her mind still helplessly drifted to Scimitar as frequently as it did to Riordan, two halves dedicated to two people,
loyal in its feeling to the both of them. Eshe waited by a river, dipping her face into the water and flicking it upward to cool herself off. The world was cooling, but already she felt flushed with excitement. To see his face again...!
He had not forgotten the promise to come back and visit her in three days, though he had wanted to. He kept careful watch on his children, maintained the pack borders and would gauge his mate’s temperament, which was never favorable. He and Bazi had not spoken for days now, and while the silence was unsettling, he was surprised at how easy the adjustment was.
And so, with radio silence from his mate, the cinnamon wolf determined he would see the silver siren one last time.. She had not taken him up on his offer to join their pack, and it spoke volumes to how far any form of a relationship (friendship or otherwise) would go between them.. and yet here he was, his creamy paws leading him to the moors.
He seen her. She seemed perfect against the autumn landscape. The days were cooling, though the leaves remained intact and rich in emerald hues.
Even as he watched her dip her muzzle in to the water and flick it upward in an arc of playfulness, his heart ached. He knew her for no more than an hour but she was devastatingly beautiful, kind and had haunted his dreams since he had first met her.
His stance becoming neutral, the large beast moved forward, closing the distance between the two.. and knowing that he should have been running the opposite direction.
The water could not overwhelm the sound of his approach, which she had actively sought out. She looked over her shoulder and grinned broadly when she saw him there, and her heart rendered her into action before her mind could possess any of her body parts to stop her (most notably, her limbs, which propelled her into movement). Her tail waved easily behind her to support the fact that she was quite pleased to see him, and she smiled at the handsome man of the Grove.
Would he invite her again to stay with him...?
Would she deny him that, now? Could she?
Her golden eyes grinned with her lips. That she worry he might not come was all so silly a thought now. Here they both were... and she was at a loss for words, he was so handsome! Differently so than Riordan. Another step toward him, and Eshe slid into a playbow, eyeing him impishly. For all the cares in the world she had, she wanted to let them go and simply think of this for a while.
She was thrilled to see him – and in turn, he could not keep his own lopsided grin from flashing through a stoical mask upon his features. What a refreshing change – to have someone welcome you so warmly! As she closed the distance to him, he could feel the words beginning to form in his mouth – to invite her once more.. or to tell her the truth about the five kids he had teased her about earlier, and how they were his. And that he was very much a taken man.
Or was he, if your relationship was on the brink of falling in to darkness?
No sooner did he make to speak did she slouch forward in a playbow, mischief rolling from her with an ease he had long since forgotten since his children were born. His thoughts pushed aside for now, he too would live in the moment, and bowing before her as well, the cinnamon wolf made to lunge playfully at her face, aiming to nip at her ear as a crooning growl escaped him.
His crooked grin was one of her favorite things in life. It was undoubtedly among the seven wonders she had heard about in passing, and she was pleased to have discover it. He slipped into a bow himself, and Eshe admired him for a moment longer than she should have... his crooning growl brought her to, and as he successfully managed to nip her ear, Eshe let out a small laugh. It wasn't often a wolf could get the better of the quickfooted Quill, but here it was! Already!
Eshe leaped upward to tag him in turn with a full-bodied tackle, tail slapping against her sides as her muscles rippled easily beneath her furs. Eshe's own smile took over her face, and should she catch him beneath her average weight, she would reward herself with an affectionate nip of her own before dashing off as though to say, tag, you're it! If not? Well, she'd keep attempting to tackle him... but his own weight was sturdier than her own, so it would be a difficult feat to complete.
Even her laugh was beautiful – how had he stumbled upon her? Why was she alone?
The question remained unanswered for now, and Scimitar was pulled in to a bout of play. His teeth managed to gently nip at her ear, and such actions usually held a consequence. His wolfish brows lifted, daring her to do something about it, and she did.
Her leap would bring her body to tackle in to him with a surprisingly hefty force given how slight she was in comparison to him, and her nip brought on the age old game of tag. No sooner was her warmth and fur touching his and stirring a flame in his chest did she bounce away, leaving him unfulfilled.
A roguish grin crept to his features and he bounded off after her – slower, given his height and weight, but certainly determined to catch that beautiful creature in to his arms.
She had done it! And that very same heat blossomed in her own breast; she noticed it as when she departed him, she was met with a chill that did not agree with her. It caused her to look back—something she had never done in this game—and she nearly stumbled in the process. Certainly slowed because of it, giving the darker man the advantage he otherwise would not have had against the sprightly woman. But her tail waved at the idea of him catching her... it was something the competitive Eshe had not ever wanted, until now. To be caught was to lose!
But this time, that thought did not occur to him. To be captured in this situation felt like it could be the greatest victory she had achieved, and as she ran, she looked over her shoulder once again... even knowing she might slow down, just to catch a glimpse of his face, his progress, as she moved.
They played – but as she looked back, she would slow, and a knowing glance would steal from the male toward her.. she wanted to be caught. He did not hesitate, though he should have – he would need to tell her about his mate and kids, but the cool autumn wind whipped his face, and her tantalizing scent teased at him.
Each thrum of his paws upon the ground stirred him to keep just one more moment before he would tell her – let him have one friend for this stolen moment. Perhaps, they could have even been more.
Had he known about her thoughts, he would not have lead her so far astray. Even more, if he had known her infatuation with a man in a pack she had already promised herself to, he would have felt even less terrible about it.
But for now, it was that smile he sought, and not anger or sadness. For now, it was just the two of them, and each stride he made would bring him closer to her. Perhaps, he could hold her just one more time as well.
Eshe thought nothing of Riordan when with Scimitar, and the same could be said the other way around... but, to be certain, she felt differently affectionate toward the both of them. The way she felt truly could only be known by exploring them, and the different circumstances surrounding the both of them meant nothing to the woman who was in all other things a realist. Scimitar made her believe in things she never thought possible, and he was the first to do so. Even still, Riordan—who she felt bashful around—had not yet risen to the level of feelings that surfaced around Scimitar... she felt strangely sure with him that she had found something good and right... like perhaps he could be "the one". She had been told about "the one", but had never believed it. Her father had spoken of love at first sight, and Eshe and Bhreac had (at the time she had thought appropriately) laughed.
Well, the man was surely laughing in his grave now.
Of course, she knew nothing of love... just that when she looked at this stranger, she felt a loyalty different to any other, one that would make her forget all else (bar her sister) and run away with him, darnit!
Her tail waved as he gained on her. She attempted to pick up her own pace, but her legs were gooey beneath her... fortunately, she remained upright and running, laughing excitedly as he drew nearer, the volume of his own paws heard over the light dance of her own that grazed across the earth. Was she flying?
His guilty mind was pushed aside as the cinnamon agouti man maintained himself to be purely in the moment. His creamy paws thrummed against the ground, and his large strides, while not as agile as hers, were at least closing distance between the two.
He did not know what to do when he caught her -- how he would break the spell between them. But as puffs of air coiled about him in the air, the sleek female before him grew ever closer, and with a playful lunge, the male made to nip gingerly at her tail and hind limbs.
As the two sprinted, he soon caught her feathery plume in a light, gentle snap. The touch was enough to break her concentration, to cause her to stumble, to cause a misstep that would make what could have been a longer chase not so long at all. It was like when one told you, "don't look back, you'll slow down". It was just like that, in fact. The touch internally caused her to look back, to remember who it was she was running from, to want a little more of that touch... she also did not consider that in this misstep she might earn it.
She still tried, though, still put her effort in careening onward, as though that one misstep would not have finished her. Eshe knew that long before that touch, she had been finished, somehow. That her feelings for him exploded within her, a craving that excited her, made her curious, want to know more.
His jaws gently nipped her tail – so dissatisfying compared to her haunch or shoulder. He craved contact with her, and it was off-putting at how much he actually wanted it. Her brown eyes looked back at him – doe-like innocence reflecting from them, and he felt his heart skip a moment, remembering that he was indeed a taken man, and his mate and children waited for him at home.
A few more bounds, and she would be his. His own form would try to gain on her, heading her off, so that he may slow her down – so that he may hold her once more before he would have to tell her of everything he had not. She deserved far better than this – and he would have to let her go.