She couldn’t help herself. 

Away from the moors she stole in the dark of night, an overcast sky creating but a pale cast of muted grey light from where the moon hid beyond the clouds. I’m the tangle, she could get lost. Meander, sprint, and enjoy her folly. 

Through the labyrinth of brambles she careened, imagining in her head that perhaps she was a prize- and only those who could find her might be worthy of her. 

Suitors she hoped to find- but simultaneously she dreaded them. Her heart yearned for the careful songster she’d met along the seashore, and the gentle, quiet giant whose paws had been twice as large as hers. But the chances of finding either of them again? 

Not impossible. Simply improbable, and she could deal with that.

Ashlar had begun to think that perhaps he should come to know the neighbors a little better. He still balked at the thought of meeting a great number of strangers, but he loved the idea of the connections and goodwill it might bring to the rise. The singer had not had any luck recruiting and had gotten few opportunities, lately, to practice his trade. His medicines were stocked and the pack thrived. He wanted, still, to help.

The girl on the beach had said her pack lived on the shore. Ashlar decided that he would start there, and that morning he had set out to find the paradise in the cliffs she had sung about.

Funny enough, Ashlar found her first. He had cut towards the forest to hunt before continuing on, but what he heard was bigger than anything he could catch alone. The bard froze and watched, was at first surprised to see a wolf, then delighted to recognize them.

They were already friends. He wasn't nervous at all as he bounded forward and bounced with a playful bark, tail spinning wildly behind him. Ashlar did notice the strangeness about her, but did not pay it much mind yet. He was too happy he had chanced across her path again!

The first wolf to come bounding toward her at first sent her back a few paces. In the dark, his features were difficult to see and while his posture was playful, she had been warned that her body might entice men into a more buoyant, forceful spirit. 

But she caught his scent and the hint of dappling at his nape and recognized him. Her cheeks flushed and she scuttled toward him, ears flattened in an apology for her previous hesitation. She crouched low, tail whipping from side to side, and high pitched whispers escaped her with each breath as she came forward to greet him and search his features for any sign that perhaps, he realized things might be different.

He stopped immediately when he realized that he had startled her and his expression mirrored hers an instant beforehand. Ashlar was immediately apologetic, though he did not lose his exuberance. He could see that she simply didn't recognize him at first, approaching in the darkened forest.

I was looking for your cliffs, he explained, beaming. He stopped there because as much as he'd been planning to visit, he found he would rather stay. Just like with Avicus, there was no sudden and conscious shift... just a sense. And while, in Avicus, this feeling had made him nervous, here there was no Tulimaq. No looming competition, no Prophet or silent one to disapprove either. Here the bard felt inspired to play.

He hopped back and then lunged into a bow, then smiled at her with an open invitation.

She uttered a soft, surprise huff, flattered that he confessed he’d intentionally been heading out to see her. Perhaps he was merely flirting, but she senses no insincerity and it wasn’t so hard to believe that he’d decided to visit her. She eyed him appreciatively; it meant a lot to her, and made her feel valued to know he’d wanted to visit her. 

As if choreographed, she too dipped into a play bow without hesitation. Even in the dark she could see the glint of his wolfish smile as he dared her to come closer. She lunged forward, bounding twice in his direction before she whirled in the air and with a teasing tip, she began to bound off through the brush, demanding that he chase her should he want her.

 

goldfinch was here again, near to his world.

augur easily picked up the tendrils of her scent and followed it until it twined with that of blacktail.

he blinked. tongue lolled. down the rise from him he saw goldfinch and blacktail leap and bound.

augur did not recognize jealousy. he did not call to them. he only watched. in time he would turn away to hunt for red woman. but he would come back to look for the salt wolf again.

Ashlar was too caught by the game to see Augur watching. The moment she invited him to chase, he complied. A small yip escaped as he took off through the shadows.

She was fast! He pressed himself to keep up and to whirl up behind her and attempt to catch at her withers with nips that barely connected, let alone left any mark. He just wanted to prove he had caught her.

He was too breathless to laugh out loud, but he was clearly having a blast. If he caught her and she turned the chase to him, he would be ready to pivot, hoping to avoid capture that would end the game so quickly.

She growled softly as he nipped at the air between them, occasionally tweaking one of her longer guard hairs. A capable hunter he must’ve made, where he lived, to have both chased and closed in on her so fast in the dark. 

She dug in her heels and crouched her haunches so she could spin and spring toward him, sending him off in another direction. Being fairly familiar with the area, she thought she might stray from his path and pursue another deer path through the tangle, one she knew would intercept his in only a moment except-

There, in her path, stood a quiet giant made of the moonlight that the clouded sky did not offer, and she recognized him  with a happy squeal. Once again, she dipped into a playbow, grinning as her breath came in pants, before she bounded toward him, kittenishly sneaking her body along the underside of his chin- before she took off once more. A cant of her hear and a backwards glance over her shoulder she hoped would be an invitation enough to prompt him to join in the chase too, as she barrelled toward the intersection of deer paths where she thought she might surprise Ashlar.

the lithe body of the sea woman rushed toward him. he mimicked her playbow with a low growl of pleasure, pressing his muzzle into her nape as she slipped her figure along his own.

goldfinch invited him to run and augur was behind her with long steps of his broad paws, teasing the air with controlled nips toward her heels.

when blacktail's racing form came into view, augur chuffed a loud sound of greeting, slowing to paw toward the other wolf's shoulders before he refocused upon goldfinch.

He raced towards them but the instant he saw Augur, Ashlar's body language shifted, almost as though he had been struck. Augur had never given him reason to fear him, but instinct told him to fear anyway, and were the motions he made in play? Or were they a warning? He did not know.

As his delight melted into uncertainty and nervousness, he slowed to a stop, failing to join in on the chase. His eyes tracked them as they went, but that same fear held him. He did not want to compete with a wolf who was, in so many ways, his better. Alone he could forget, but with Augur, he was reminded his place.

He should go back. The disappointment cut, but not enough to even begin to think of challenging Augur's right. It wasn't something he even imagined being allowed to share.

Like a cat, she arched her back before she sprinted away, darting through the darkness with Augur following close until Ashlar again came into view. She nipped playfully at him as she passed by, noticing his sudden drop in momentum and spirit. 

A glance over shoulder revealed what she thought was another playful invitation from Augur,  though Ashlar’s enthusiasm seemed to have faded the moment Augur arrived. He didn’t look angry, though- but he certainly did look disappointed. 

She motioned toward Ashlar with the nod of her head, hoping Augur would follow. So she trotted toward the now-sullen Ashlar, tail swinging side to side in an apology. She knew this might end up being harder than she’d wanted it to be.

”Ashlaaaar,” she said, moving forward to greet him with an affectionate nuzzle should he let her. It did not escape her notice that both males bore the same pack scent.
”You know each oder, no?
Bot’ from Redtail Rise.
An’ bot’ of you I know as well,
From de softness in your eyes. 

I have a question for de each of ye,
If you will give me some time.
But if dere be an ounce of hostility,
I will beat your sorry behin’.
Savvy?” She asked. She wanted civility and compliance from both of them.

He didn't understand. She wanted to ask something? And Augur was leaving. He watched uncertainly as the other man turned and began to depart, unsure why. Ashlar didn't wish to be in his way and worried, now, that he had upset him. That wasn't something he'd ever wished to do.

I didn't... he said to the retreating form, but cut it off and looked down, ashamed. She wanted something from them, wanted them not to fight. He had no desire to either, but somehow, he had done wrong here. He would wait.

He had probably wronged her as well, ruining the joy of their reunion in some way. He hadn't realized that she knew Augur or that he would be here now. He should have come another day. He should have been more careful, paid more attention. So many things. His posture dropped more submissively, but he didn't make a move forward yet. He didn't want to make things worse.

The quiet man had no time for her words, it seemed, and she was made to feel as though she’d been foolish to think that they both might have been interested in her. Just when she thought she might be precious to them, she felt unwanted. 

Ashlar’s doleful expression and posture appeared in part apologetic, and seemed to express some guilt. The moment he’d clapped eyes on Augur, he had wilted. 

She’d worried that men might war to claim her- but it was clear now that neither of the two were the sort to attempt to possess a woman through a show of strength. And for one who did not desire to be won through barbaric terms, she was at least somewhat relieved.

She could sense that Augur was nearby- but it appeared very clear he never Ashlar would have nothing to do with one another. Had he hung around in sight, she might have been forced to make a choice- but as it was, he’d crept off into the darkness. In part she still yearned for him, but such longing was easily forgotten when she had hope that the bard might still hold some affection for her. 

She hummed a gentle tune- half a melody, only, and let it linger on the air between them as a question only he, she felt, could finish.

Ashlar let out a small whine of apology to both her and Augur, though it was likely he would not hear it. If he didn't see her disappointment he would have likely followed to apologize now, but he didn't want to leave her alone. It made him feel a bit antsy to leave things like this.

Then Chacal began to hum. He listened silently for a moment as he picked up on the tune, and then it was impossible for his mood to stay as low as it had been. He would need to find Augur and apologize, but at least she wasn't upset with him.

He hummed a few bars back, part of it a repetition of what she'd first hummed, a part of it new and a bit of a counter. He liked her voice and had never met another singer like her.

The glance he spared, gazing softly into the darkness, caught Chacal’s attention. For in those gentle, sweet eyes there was remorse, left behind by Augur’s peaceful retreat into the darkness. It struck her suddenly- that she thought she saw a glimmer of longing, too, in that glance. 

She could not see Augur to gauge how he might have felt that look, but she felt warmth brew in her cheeks. Ashlar pined for his packmate, and the only reason that it could be, perhaps, was that he was called forth by her siren song and her invitation. When she thought about it for a moment, it seemed to make sense. 

Ashlar pined for Augur.

He had faultered when Augur had come from the darkness to join their chase. Perhaps it wounded him to see Augur flirt with another- and perhaps Augur left because he did not want to cause that pain. Which left Ashlar, crestfallen, but nevertheless receptive to music. 

His phrase had been like theme and variation, this time ending with a question. The corners of her lips pulled in a timid smile. On the inside, her thoughts raced.

What if Ashlar and Augur were lovers- and she had come between them? What if she was using them? Manipulating them with her wicked hormones? Was she an interruption in what could have been a good relationship? 

She wanted to know- but she couldn’t ask it just now. His soft voice awoke something within her spirit. And while she loathed the thought of potentially causing a rift between what she believed might be two lovers, she couldn’t be completely blamed for forging ahead nonetheless.

She had affection for the both of them- a natural comfort, an intriguing sensation in her gut when she thought about them. With Ashlar, she could share her voice, something she could share with so few others. And with Augur she could share her trust and comfort. 

She hummed again, stepping slightly forward. Her tune lifted, lilted, danced, and returned back to the initial motif, which then hung on the air, begging to be completed.

Ashlar didn't fully understand what she wanted from him yet. He accompanied her song, but the meaning that lay under it escaped him for the moment. He felt the instinctual draw, the uptick in his pulse, but he would never be the type to initiate. Ashlar rarely took - he only gave.

It was hard to turn away from the unhappy circumstances that would surely follow him home but he managed to. As he returned her melody again he let the worries fall away so that he could enjoy and fully invest himself in at least making her happy. Perhaps Augur would forgive him if he smoothed things over here.

It never crossed his innocent mind that jealousy might make things worse instead.

Ashlar was also oblivious to the fanfiction that Chacal crafted around his and Augur's misunderstanding. He bounced and sang a few more notes, trying to regain the atmosphere of before, but his inexperience was clear. If Ashlar was the one expected to make the first move, he would likely be fated to be childless.

She thought his melody might reflect the yearning she assumed he might feel; but she could see that Ashlar was genuinely beginning to invest in their melody-sharing. She’d felt guilty, a moment earlier, for potentially having caused a rift between the two males…But perhaps it was not as big of a deal as she’d thought. Maybe she was just being too sensitive. 

In the very least, Ashlar seemed entertained. Her hopes of seducing him still lingered, though coupled now with the potentially that she might feel incredibly guilty afterwards if she did succeed. How had her mothers struggled through this? She wondered if they had struggled with their consciences as well. 

She wanted to coax Ashlar into motion and stepped forward with the continuation of their tune, before stepping back on the next line. Her initial melody rose again, and she stepped forward- to conclude with an elegant, yet kittenish play bow.

She began to move, stepping in and out in a pattern that confused him at first. Then he caught on and curiosity sparked within the bard. Ashlar had never danced before. But it seemed like she wanted him to copy her.

He stepped forward hesitantly at first, watching her to see if he had understood. In, then out, then in again.

Every time he stepped closer, something unknown pressed him on, told him to close the gap completely. In close proximity now, he was extremely aware of her warmth as well as the delicate way that she moved. It startled him with its unexpectedness, but he didn't step back this time. His ears tilted back and his eyes met hers with a mixture of heat and confusion.

Was this okay? Should he be here?

He hadn't gotten close enough to Avicus to feel this kind of draw, nor had he ever experienced it before. The closest he'd come was with Ratio - but that had been emotional. This was instinct. On some level he understood what it meant, that it was a draw usually reserved for mateship. She wasn't his - he wasn't hers. He let out a small, uncertain note.

With each step they took toward each other she felt her longing amplify. A strong magnet was pulling her in, and with every sway away from each other she felt became more and more difficult. She blushed and smiled every time she caught a glance from him. 

While she had sung songs for years now, something felt right about having found a partner to sing with. His voice was enchanting, and she delighted in his ability to improvise along with her. She couldn’t have imagined a courtship that might be any more romantic or fitting than this. 

The thought of considering Augur had disappeared into the darkness along with the kind man, who had left them. Perhaps in the end, this was what she truly wanted anyway. All she knew was that it felt more right than anything ever had before, to be with someone who moved and spoke her language. 

What might have been intended as hesitance instead was interpreted as asking for permission, which she found to be endearing. He was respectful, and she appreciated that. With an affectionate purr she acquiesced, and moved forward to press her muzzle to his cheek, so she might trace his jawline and press her chest against his, to see if his heart was beating as wildly as hers was.

The bard was both young and naive, but it turns out even he could read some signals. Chacal's purr and her decision to tuck herself in closer were as clear as a branch smacking him repeatedly in the face. His heart was probably pounding even faster than hers at this point and the overwhelming nature of all of this had his mind almost completely blank. He hadn't shut down in a bad way. He couldn't think straight in a really good one. All he was aware of in that moment was her.

He didn't want to sing anymore.

It turns out that, when properly motivated, all of his best intentions around the careful nature of fatherhood were lost. He knew where she lived and that was about it, but with a rumble that he'd certainly never made before, Ashlar sought to fulfill her request anyway. The consequences were as lost to him as words were right now. All that he needed to know were the instructions his blood was singing directly to him, instructions he was completely unwilling (and likely unable) to disregard.

Chacal had known what she’d wanted- she’d had a goal in mind when she’d set out, of course- but in the glow of the aftermath she found her sentiments had shifted. She’d never fathomed such an experience, and the novelty of those sensations left her breathless and at a loss for words. 

In the wake of such intimacy she curled herself against his side, feeling somehow changed. She felt exhilarated, and lightly self-aware as well, after having trusted him completely with her vulnerability. 

Shyly she searched for his gaze, girlish wonder shining in her eyes. She uttered a quiet, surprised giggle, and exhaled; she’d not exactly had expectations for the experience at all, but suffice to say, her mind had been blown.

Ashlar was slightly dazed as he reclined, fitted against the songstress from the sea. He hadn't realized such a thing could happen, but he knew so little about her and still felt this close. Ashlar was not an emotionally distant creature and he had known deep closeness before. He had never known intimacy.

She giggled and he looked to find her catching his gaze in return. He smiled, shyly, but wasn't sure what to say. What did you say, after this? But he felt he should find something.

Nothing he could find fit. He tried for a few moments, then gave up and instead buried his muzzle affectionately in her ruff with a soft rumble. Ashlar couldn't bring himself to simply say 'thank you' but maybe she would get the idea.

His meek smile reassured her. She wondered if he had done this before, or if he’d been relying on instinct as she had. She leaned into his embrace, and felt as though here, this close to him, she could feel his emotions. She thought he felt as uprooted as she did,  got the whole experience, and perhaps just as unwilling to let it pass.

Each breath of warm air he breathed into her golden-tinged ruff felt sacred, like something she should treasure. She nestled her muzzle into the fur of his chest, so that he could become the only thing she sensed, aside from her own joy. 

It was with a pant of sorrow, of course, that she realized at some point, they would have to part. She squeezed her eyes shut, and willed the rest of the world to simply stop and wait for eternity, so they might spend forever in that moment together.

As she nestled her face into the fur of his chest, he shifted to draw her closer, then let his head rest gently in an embrace where it was. Ashlar was happy to stay like that for a while, but inevitably, he too began to remember that there were other things out there. He had absolutely forgotten until now.

He belonged in the Rise, she belonged with the sea. He knew he could not leave Avicus and the rest of his pack, but when he thought of returning, his stomach turned with anxiety. He could not go back now and leave her here alone. His fear wasn't one of possession, but something deeper and less logical. There was no identifiable reason to it, just an emotion that permeated and gripped him.

I have to go back, he said quietly, turning his head to press his cheek to her fur instead as he spoke. But if you want, I can stay for a while? They won't need me. He couldn't say that for sure and felt guilty even as he spoke it. But they hadn't needed him these past weeks and she had not found her war yet. If Avicus were to grow with pups, then perhaps. For at least a week he should be safe. He would need to explain when he returned, and he would. Hopefully they would understand.