Wolf RPG

Reverie was increasingly — frustrated, and it was beginning to boil over. It was one thing to be without Lestan, but another thing entirely to be completely without affection. Not the innocent kind of affection she shared with her friends and her daughter; she got plenty of that. No, Reverie was craving something far less family-friendly —
And there was no one around to give it to her. She thought she might lose her mind. Instead she took to pacing outside of her den in short spurts, careful not to leave Blossom alone for too long. Honestly, she didn't want to be near her daughter while she felt this way.

The hint had been unsuccessful for Moss, who returned to the Creek still damp from the latest rainfall. Unlike others, it did nothing to diminish her size- and she appeared just as barrel-shaped and tall despite having her pelt so wet. 

She river back toward where she felt Reverie would be, hoping to find her secluded and alone, with her young daughter sage and sound alongside her. 

She spotted the blonde woman pacing and assumed that perhaps she might be anxious about Moss’s well-being. After all, Akavir must have returned already following his altercation with the childsnatcher. It made her feel important- though the presence and potency of Arric’s scent in the area made her lightly suspicious. 

She woofed softly. She was disappointed that she had not found and killed the woman- and despite what Arric had said about Reverie wanting Lestan to come back, she searched for joy in Reverie’s gaze when she came stalking back into view.

Moss! Reverie startled slightly at the bark, but it quickly turned to an intense, flushed pleasure at her companion's return. She lit up at the sight of her, body wiggling a little with the force of her wagging tail as she moved to greet her. Moss! You're back! Reverie wasted no time in sniffing her over, not once but twice, and was satisfied to find that she was not wounded as Akavir and Arric had been.
Oh, but this closeness... Reverie froze a little, pupils dilated when she looked back up at Moss. Her hackles prickled lightly with an overload of feeling. She wanted to tell Moss that she was beautiful, that she was like starlight, like a dream she'd once had where everything was silver and she felt nothing but safe. But she could hardly breathe, could hardly think, and besides that was terrified beyond words of rejection! She didn't think she could bear it.

She growled as Reverie flowed toward her like a golden sunbeam. She shimmered as she wriggled. Moss stiffened as she was investigated, relaxing once Reverie could look upon her with reassurance that she had not been harmed. It warmed her heart to see Reverie in good spirits and sprightly in her step. From that she could infer that Blossom, too, thrived; she suspected there would be a lot of change in the young one.

Moss reached out to touch Reverie and inhale her scent- only to find that Arric’s scent had been tangled in her fur. Along her ruff, the nape of her neck, the fur of her shoulder. She drew back.

Arric had known some details about Lestan- a private conversation Moss had likely been excluded from on purpose. She squinted lightly. ”You smell like Arric.” Jealousy riled within her.

You smell like Arric.
Well that was certainly a mood killer. Reverie's ears pinned back immediately, hurt overtaking all of her positive feelings in an instant. He was hurt. I - was trained as a healer, so I was helping him, She explained a little haltingly, overwhelmed by this abrupt shift in mood.
Suddenly she didn't want to be near Moss after all. She stepped back, ears still flat to her head, gaze falling away now and searching for something else to focus on. Blossom probably needs me, Reverie mumbled, and disappeared into the den, assuming Moss would follow. Her daughter was napping as peacefully as ever, but Reverie curled around her nonetheless, aware that she could not go too long without a source of warmth. Besides — it was a distraction.

Arric was hurt? ”How?” Moss asked. She’d seen signs that Akavir had been wounded, but had Arric intercepted the woman as well? She felt lightly reassured, but disappointed as well- in herself. If the men had both managed to find the childsnatcher, but she had missed completely…Maybe she was losing her edge.

Reverie pulled away and Moss felt snubbed by the word me. Was there no us anymore? Reverie had asked her to help raise Blossom, had she not? She clamped her jaws together for a moment before she drew closer to the den. 

She cleared her throat. She felt she had a place within the den- but if Reverie dreamt of Lestan…She shook her head. Arric had to be full of shit. Maybe he knew what was going on between Moss and Reverie and was jealous. Maybe he’d brought up Lestan just to get Moss to leave so he could get closer to Reverie.

Well, she wasn’t about to let that happen. 

”May I come in?” she asked, softly.

Of course you can come in, Reverie wasn't sure what to make of Moss's sudden reticence, her jealousy. Didn't she know that she was wanted here? Guilt gripped her, to think that she had somehow made Moss feel unwanted. Maybe it was time to stop being so shy.
He had some trouble with... a woman. A different woman, She sighed as she explained about Arric. It's a long story. One she didn't care to get into, because it didn't matter to her very much if she was honest. What mattered to her, in this moment, was Moss. She invited her close with a gesture, hoping that she would come lie with her and Blossom but simultaneously dreading it. Reverie knew that the moment they were close again, she would feel that desire again, and the thought horrified her with Blossom so near.

Moss burned with shame to learn she had jumped to conclusions, though she remained silent in response. Maybe she shouldn’t worry so much in the future. She sauntered forward, and felt the tension slip from her shoulders like a silk scarf when she saw the small, pale pup in the den. 

The sight of the infant calmed her, provoking a gentleness that did not often frequent her spirit. She’d never known what it felt like to be a mother, but the instinct began to bloom within her nonetheless. 

”Babe,” She murmured softly, as she neared and settled upon the ground; her gaze did not stray from the child. She felt she could look ar Blossom for hours, forsake her duties at the pack’s borders so she might simply get to tend to the small, sweet creature.

It was not Reverie's words that brought Moss's warmth back, but the sight of Blossom. Her heart dropped into her stomach and she felt an ugly twist of her own jealousy — because Blossom was hers, and so was Moss. She looked away, falling silent now, a quietly-seething storm of emotion. Maybe Blossom sensed it, because she started to stir after a few moments.
Reverie kissed the girl's forehead idly. She wanted to cry. All she'd wanted was to feel desired, and instead she felt criticized and cast aside. She wanted to sleep; she wanted to run; she wanted Lestan, more than anything.

Moss’s lips twitched when the child moved, and looked up, finally, when Reverie kissed Blossom’s head. Her gaze followed Reverie’s downcast eyes when she lifted her head again, noticing finally the arched brow and the sag at the corner of her lips.

She wondered what Reverie was thinking. She thought, maybe, that she didn’t want to know. 

”How have you been?” She asked.  Maybe conversation would ease the tension.

Fine, It came out automatically, the kind of response someone gives when they've already decided not to give any kind of real response. The kind that says: sorry, we're closed! It was what Reverie did best, shutting down and shutting out anyone who might care — a way of running without really running.
Except it didn't work so well this time, because she promptly started to cry. Embarrassed, Reverie looked away from Moss. This was not how she'd envisioned things going when Moss returned. And through it all she still burned with desire turned shameful and shy, insecure now because she could not imagine anyone wanting to touch her. Least of all Moss, who was far too good for her and perhaps realizing that even as they spoke.

Moss regretted the question almost immediately, feeling rebuked for having tried to get a glimpse of how Reverie was feeling. Perhaps Reverie held a grudge against her for leaving- or she was possibly just hung up on the fact that Moss had been so surprised by the scent of Arric. 

Her ears flicked back when Reverie started to cry. She wanted to reach out, but couldn’t help but feel as though this was her fault- and as such, Reverie might not accept her consolation. Moss was willing to take the chance, though, and deftly moved in to circle around Reverie and lay at her side. Gently, but firmly, she pulled Reverie toward her. 

”I’m sorry.” What for? For leaving? For not reacting properly when she’d come back? For not catching the witch that had threatened Reverie? For all of it.

She didn't expect Moss to curl around her, to pull her into the warmth Reverie so desperately wanted. Her reaction was immediate and undeniable; a deep shiver ran through her body and she pressed in closer, lips parting with a small gasp that marked a halt to her tears. She tried to hide it. She really did.
But all she could focus on now was the warmth spreading through her, intensifying with every moment of contact. Moss, Reverie murmured helplessly, hardly registering her apology. She leaned back, searching, wanting to press her muzzle into the fur at Moss's neck. Suddenly she didn't care if it was too bold.

Reverie leaned against her, and Moss remained solid like a stone, warmed by the sun. But when Reverie gasped, a shock of fear ran through her. It caused the fur at the back of her neck to lift, and her eyes to grow wide.

Reverie searched, her voice beseeching. Moss could feel how warm her companion grew beside her, and felt heat rush into her cheeks. She knew that rejecting Reverie’s advance would likely lead to a tailspin- but Moss felt deeply uncomfortable with the sudden influence of what she felt was physical desire.

It was not something she herself enjoyed or longed for. As gently as possible, she murmured quietly. ”Easy,” She would hold her lover’s hand, but would not allow it to caress her so. ”I don’t….” She began, but halted. ”It’s not you, I just don’t…I don’t do….Physical…With anyone.”

Oh.
Reverie's ears and cheeks flushed with a different kind of heat now. Shame, to have assumed that Moss would want her — to have been so forward without even asking! She couldn't think about the implications now, about what this meant for them, but even so she felt dread coiling in her stomach. This was not something she could compromise on.
She would never want to force Moss, of course. Knowing now that she didn't want it, Reverie could not even find any desire for her anymore. It was the feeling of being wanted that made such intimacy enjoyable to Reverie. The absence of Moss's want effectively extinguished her own.
Reverie was left instead with something like embarrassment. She withdrew some; not entirely, but the contact between them was greatly reduced. I'm sorry, She said softly, and turned her gaze to Blossom. She wasn't sure what else to say.

Reverie’s apology stung, at first, as she assumed Reverie was apologizing to her as a show of sympathy. It concerned Moss to think that Reverie might not accept her for who she was, or that it might change things…But she knew she couldn’t expect every partner to be satisfied without having a physical connection as well. 

”Don’t…Apologize,” She pleaded quietly. She knew Reverie likely had good intentions, but apologies still made her feel as though every time she confessed her asexuality to someone, it was interpreted as something to be pitied. Reverie had pulled away a bit, and Moss felt the cold creep in between them. 

”It doesn’t mean I don’t care, or that touch, like this, is out of the question. It’s just…” Reverie’s gasp came to mind again. She knew the sound of keen wanting. ”There’s a line I’m not comfortable crossing, physically.”

Moss told her not to apologize, but her explanation only solidified in Reverie's mind that the situation warranted an apology. I shouldn't have assumed, She said, glancing back to Moss only briefly. She didn't want to talk about this, really.
Talking about it, after all, brought to mind the reality that there was no future for her with Moss. Reverie did not think Lestan would return, and so she didn't think of him in this moment. She wasn't really thinking about Moss, either; she thought only of herself. But I - I don't know if... This time she couldn't look at Moss as she spoke. It seemed silly, in a way, to end whatever was between them over — this! She just couldn't imagine never being touched that way again, and she didn't think Moss would be okay with her seeking that kind of intimacy with another.
In the end she couldn't bring herself to say it. But the sentiment hung in the air between them, implied if not voiced.

She could forgive anyone who tried, with ease. It felt nice, being wanted, and so long as her boundaries were respected, she could easily forgive that first trespass. She shook her head, and made to warmly reassure her- until Reverie spoke again.

Now, she felt herself lacking. Undesirable, now, considering what she would not give to Reverie. She felt insufficient, and bothered. It frustrates her that Reverie would want nothing from her, if she could not have everything she wanted. 

And Moss would not compromise.

”We don’t have to talk about it right now.” She said, wanting as long as she could have, in this little bit of peace she found.

Now it was Reverie's turn to be uncomfortable, but she accepted this in silence, feeling that she deserved it for the hurt she was inflicting on Moss. They would talk about it later, though, she assured herself. Reverie had no desire for a romantic relationship without physical intimacy, if she was honest with herself. The two were far too bound up in one another, at least for her.
Already the depth of her feeling for Moss was rapidly dwindling, and even before this it had been quite shallow. Guilt filled her, and she remained silent for the rest of their time together, stewing in misery and hatred for herself; for the fact that she did not want Moss at all anymore, and hardly even ached at the thought of losing her.
She felt now that there was nothing Moss could give that she wanted, and so what was there to lose?