There it was. The familiar scent she had always known and loved. Faint, here; whereas stronger onward. But the pale one did not tread where she did not know if she was wanted. True, they had once been friends—sisters, almost. But time had passed. Things changed, even in short passing.
Along the edge of the meadow, she walked with care, sniffing nearby bark and brush. Keen attention was placed upon the fumes of whom she sought.
With delighted patience, the pale woman paced, curious to know if her own presence would be noticed. She did not intend to barge in; but rather, wait to be invited. The proper way.
her time was almost over.
she had enjoyed herself immensely, and thought fondly of the future but not in any certain terms, wishing only to enjoy life as it came to her; and when the season ended, zharille would hardly think again about the men she had accompanied. the ramifications of her dalliances were a far-flung thing at the moment.
the woman spent some time roaming the lake shore, huffing over scents, scratching the soil. her head lifted from where she had been snuffling through the reeds when the wind brought a familiar scent to her nose, and for a moment zharille was alert - surprised. she snorted to clear her nostrils and then began to trace the scent along its path.
before she had even pinpointed where ranva waited, she was crooning a note just for her: not the same sound as what she'd use for her men, but something of an invitation, a question. where have you been? and i have missed you!
There, from the distance, came a voice. The voice of Zharille.
Oh, the sweet melody. And it was sung just for her!
Delighted, and eager, her pace quickened. But only until the two were in sight of one another. She would draw close, then, intent to give her lost sister a proper greeting. An affectionate nuzzle or two, and later a nudge upon her shoulder.
There were questions and sentiments passed. Ranva would answer them.
I have been wandering. Searching. Learning! And many things she had learned indeed. But what of Zharille? What had she been up to?
Gaze urging and inquisitive, Ranva sought similar answers.
the woman came quickly, and the two spiraled one-another in greeting. zharille rough in her attentions, ranva less-so, but both equally curious.
zharille could find very little upon her friend to tell her of the journey. on the flip side, zharille carried upon herself many male scents, some female, and the strong odor of her heat! much had changed as she'd come in to herself and found, in a way, a power unique to her sex.
zharille clipped at the white woman's cheek and rubbed the side of her muzzle against her face, as much to show her love and happiness for their reunion, as to mark her as a part of the lake pack.
Much had happened with Zharille. Ranva knew this by the many scents the woman carried. She had been busy. But all was well, she also knew.
There was further affection shared, and even a small mark to solidify their reunion. The pale woman would not be leaving anytime soon. Both knew this.
When all was done, Ranva offered a small push to the other's shoulder; a desire to see more of this place. Show me, sister. Let me see where you walk, and where I will walk with you.
they would remember one-another; the physicality was one way that they both were versed in, and zharille welcomed the contact with a rumble of invitation, perhaps more open than before because of her current state - and she would beckon the woman to follow her.
they would run. there was no trepidation within zharille. she did not throw her weight around for the sake of a title, not with ranva, not when they were so well known to her. from time to time she might reach for her or made small noises to draw her eye here, or there, as they traveled. there had never been need for dominance with ranva.
Ranva — oh the sweet woman! Never desirable for superiority, never once thinking she had the skills for it! A councilor, an advisor, an attentive listener and keen follower to those who knew her best; given the talents of knowledge the many months life had given her.
Zharille had always held a sense of power within her, but never once did she use as an advantage against Ranva. And oh it was appreciated! She could know with ease that their relationship stood on grounds of pure affection and doting for one another; a kindred tie.
When the sable woman ran, the pale followed close, taking in all she could. It was a wondrous place! If given the choice, she may never leave. But, of course, that all depended on Zharille. Would they stay, or eventually move on? The answer could not be known now, but only in the future. And so, she would not dwell—instead, she would wait, and enjoy what bliss could be found in the present.