For some time Laurel had stayed here, in the Phoenix Maplewood. She didn't realise that this was the place of her birth, but there was something about the tranquility of the leaves shifting in the wind. She had warily avoided anyone, and had considered to simply let her heat pass without conception. Mahler'd asked her, told her, to conceive, but then he had taken her heart and crushed it between his teeth. Just another man who would not love her; such was her story, and she had embraced it so much that it was a hard story to break free from today.

Nightmares plagued her every night and she had not slept much. Laurel was tired and she felt vulnerable and alone, every day a reminder that her current state meant she was not welcome in Rivenwood. She was left to fend against the savages by herself, and it led to a lack of sleep. If only she could've just curled up someplace in Rivenwood, if only she had been able to stay there with someone to defend her. She was terrified every day out here, afraid, and she was slowly driving herself insane by way of Iliksis' venomous words filling her head with lies. Lies about her encounter with Mahler that made it hard for her to separate the truth from the lies — that he had rejected her because she was too ugly, that of course nobody would want someone like her, that he had laughed in her face at the sheer stupidity of the thought that he might've meant that he would wish to lay with her or be with her in any way! — and it fueled her paranoia. She thought most days that maybe she should not return to Rivenwood at all, once this was all over.

Every day Iliksis reminded her of the promise that she had made to Mahler. That she would carry children, as he asked of her. He never stated they would be his, dearest. That's just another lie you made up in your head. No! He told me to carry children. Of course they would be his, of course — You assumed that he meant that. That's okay, my dearest, I understand you like no one else. It's not your fault that you are such a despicable — hissed — detestable — spat — ugly — with pity, this time — yet sweet piece of ass. You were born this way. But don't worry, dearest. I will always love you. And you...

No — she snapped violently, causing a few birds to fly up in fright. You will perform your duties.

Laurel was not so sure whether becoming pregnant or abstaining would make Mahler more upset. And she wanted to make him upset. Her entire world had gone from revolving around healing and getting better to breaking this man who would turn her down like so many had before. She hated him. You want him. She wanted to crush him. You wanted it to be him. He made her sick. Because he would not have you.

Stop lying to me!

Shouts to an empty forest, with no one but herself to surround her.

Yourself and me, my dearest.

---

After a week on her own, Laurel found herself finally move towards the north of the forest. She didn't know what she wanted anymore; she didn't know what she needed; she didn't know what to do. Eventually she watched Duskfire Glacier in the distance, and she lifted her head to call for @Wintersbane alone. She would not go to his territory, but she would receive him here, in the Maplewood, and she would see if he would lay with her despite her broken spirits; despite how unloveable and ugly she was. She did not have the air that she had when she first approached Mahler, despite the scent of her heat still clinging to her. But unlike with Mahler, now all it brought her was a deep-seeded fear of what Wintersbane might do when it first entered his nostrils. It was no longer the weapon that she had wielded before; now, it was a weapon that could be used against her, instead, and every second that she waited she thought of the last time she lay with a man while her heart thrummed nervously and her body reflected these fears.

a call rises for him; over the chill of the glacier, originating from outside his claim. not a voice that the tundrian recognized either. suspicion — perhaps natural or perhaps inspired to new levels of gusto with the coming due-dates of the expecting of the glacier's ranks — wintersbane makes his way to where the call came from wearily.

he pushes past his claim, through the qeya river and into the maplewood forest; glacial eyes scanning the territory and ears alert.

it is the scent that makes it's away to him first; of rivenwood, of a stranger, of estrus.

his nostrils flare and he finds himself continuing along the path, despite that he'd told himself that zephyr would be the last unplanned. it was a blatant lie without the backup of knowing that he could not. he was not a married man and there was no moral compass to steer him away.

he approaches, still with caution — gauging the woman who came into view, her situation and why she called for him. he lets out a low chuff and asks, stopping a few feet away.

i am wintersbane, alpha of duskfire glacier, he offers as introduction, the question as to why she summoned him left yet unsaid.

She saw her own caution reflected in his body language, and it made her feel a little more confident herself. Nothing could take away the embarrassment of this journey that she had been sent onto, but if she could feel safe, at least somewhat... Laurel swallowed thickly as he came into view and headed towards her, her heart thumping nervously while her body reflected her own fears, too. She was not the confident and proud woman that had stood before Mahler, now.

He introduced himself, confirming his identity. Laurel hated that it wasn't clear what she wanted, the question lingering between them. She hated that she'd have to tell him; ask him. She dreaded both a no and a yes. My name is Laurel. I'm from Rivenwood, Mahler's pack. He said... He told me you could -- Fuck you. Just say the words, dearest, just be honest. Tell him what you want. -- provide certain services. Hazel eyes looked up at him, daring him to further inquire, hoping she wouldn't need to. Her posture was riddled with insecurity, while her voice was sharp and confident in stark contrast.

there is a moment of quiet disbelief that follows her introduction — that mahler was trying to pimp him out. for a long moment wintersbane stares at her trying to comprehend ...and then it makes sense. mahler does not know of his desire to be a father to the children he sires, for how could he? he only had quellcrist to go off of for the example of how wintersbane spent the heat seasons.

hm, the soft, rasping sound escapes wintersbane as he contemplates what to say. what was the situation laurel sought, he wonders but does not ask. traveling between the glacier and the bypass would be too much to visit children of his there; or even if she'd want his involvement past this.

i can offer those ...services, wintersbane begins softly, finding it very strange to consider it a business transaction. to him, that sounds almost wrong even if it was nevertheless true. i do not know how involved you wish me to be, or if at all but my only condition is that they at least know of me and that they can visit me at the glacier if they choose. it pains him to limit it to just that. i've decided this year that i wanted to be involved in the lives of the cubs i sired. he offers hurriedly in the next breath, feeling like he needed to explain himself and why he's set the terms as he had.

he does not think his terms entirely unreasonable but the floor is open for negotiation if she had her mind set firmly on something else.

Laurel felt unsettled by the way that he let out the soft hm, but perhaps anything he did would've unsettled her at this point. Her mouth felt dry and she swallowed, her gaze averted and a nervous thrum in her chest. He seemed to find distaste in her choice of words, but Laurel paid that little mind.

He said that he wanted to be involved in their lives, and Laurel instantly felt that she did not want that. However, she was also terrified to go out there again, alone, smelling like she did; it would be safer to stay here, with Wintersbane, until it was all over. It would be safer to stay here for now, and to choose him. It wasn't like she'd ever been someone true to her word, anyway. She'd see later if she cared enough to tell them about him. She'd see later how she felt about him, after...

Ah, but dearest, just picture — No, no, no. Thankfully, Wintersbane then said again that he wanted to be involved in the lives of the children that he sired. Fine, Laurel said, a little snappy because of Iliksis' voice sneering in the back of her head. Then, a bit more patient and soft-spoken: Fine. They'll know. If you so please, right, dearest? If it's convenient enough for you, later? Another litter of children kept away from their RIGHTFUL father?! Iliksis' anger blazing in her head was frightening to her now, Wintersbane a representation of all she feared. He didn't deserve to be that, she knew that, but she couldn't help it.

It should've been Mahler, because he was the only one who really did not want it. But it wouldn't be Mahler, and there was nothing that she could change about it now. Return to Rivenwood to once more beg him? That would be an even bigger humiliation than being sent here in the first place.

Laurel took a deep breath and then said, with a tremble in her voice, I want it to be quick. It was spoken like a demand, no negotiation (even though she knew she could not make such demands, as it differed from wolf to wolf how 'quick' it ever was, not something he actively controlled), but the tremble betrayed a fragility beneath those words, spoke of her deepest fears. Don't lie, dearest, you wanted to say that you want it to be rough. You almost attacked Mahler to get what you wanted, after all.

for a reason wintersbane cannot entirely place — and without much cause — he is a little suspicious as to whether or not she was telling the truth. would it matter, he wonders next? they would be numerous territories away and travelling to and fro would be cumbersome for him and them ...and he had his own children within the confines of his own home to tend to. perhaps severing of contact was easier.

nevertheless, he doesn't focus on it for long.

only conceals the cringe he wants to make with a twitch of his tail against his hindlegs when she asks that she wants it to be quick. as if it was something she was dreading. it makes him wonder what she's truly doing here, asking this of him ...

but he will not complain.

very well. wintersbane agrees, drawing nearer to her, where, with her further permission, he will draw her into his embrace, doing his best to comply to her wishes and not unnecessarily drag out the process.

---

It was hard to see if he thought anything at all of Laurel's demand to make it fast, or the way that she seemed almost keen not to do it at all. In all honesty, she was; she only wanted the outcome of this pairing, and not the act itself. But she knew she must endure through it in order to get what she wanted. Now, standing here, Laurel was beginning to second-guess, but she had already endured this much to get here. She didn't want to turn away now that she was almost there.

Laurel sucked in a breath as he said 'very well', agreeing to these terms. She felt a nervous twist in her gut and she took the smallest of steps forward when he stepped towards her. Laurel would not seem very into it, keeping in mind it was a means to an end while Iliksis would jeer her on and call her names for the feelings that the physical act would rouse inside of her. She trembled slightly as she first touched Wintersbane and swallowed thickly, before giving in to instinct and joining the dance, however demurely, that they were about to perform.

~fade to black~