Wolf RPG

Home wasn't the same without Bjarna.
The woman wandered; she had visited every place that had been precious to her at one time or another, seeking something familiar and fleeting, and found herself going farther each day. She would not let herself be drawn too far — not again, not ever, she vowed to herself.
However, there was something tempting about the woods.
Sanja's body would soon shed the last of its desire; the heat that had driven her so far for so long. It was weak enough that she did not detect it upon herself, but there was still something need-based to the way she prowled the woods, and alerted to every sound.
She crooned a note, hoping to see her daughter — but knowing Bjarna had gone on her own adventure, and that it was futile to call for her, or anyone.

Phox took a day trip away from the camping trip. He wasn't entirely sure how he made such good time. Perhaps he'd simply been in better spirits since hanging out with Meerkat and the kids. It was downright nice to be around family, which is why he couldn't quite say why he wanted to take a trip away from them. So he'd excused himself after leaving Meerkat and left the kids in Towhee and Jack's care. Having three parents always did make things easier.

He was about to turn around and head back when he heard the melodic voice of somebody he did not know. "Very curious," he thought, veering toward the sound. And although the traces were faint, he knew that smell. With his right leg constantly making an effort to account for the loss of the left, he rounded a bend and saw her. A young thing, no doubt.

Oh, sorry, I—he stammered—Sorry.

The creature she found was not food, and not family. He looked older than her — and injured? No; he smelled healthy. Sanja was reminded of the various meetings she'd had in the past weeks with strangers, many of whom showed a strong interest in her, and she knew why.
There was a confidence to her now, thinking she was free of her season. Unaware that there was something lingering to draw him in. He sounded nervous, with his stammering. Maybe he was reluctant around women?
Sanja was not as cautious as she was known to be, this time. She ventured closer, and shyly greeted him with her heavily accented, —hallo.

She approached, something Phox hadn't entirely expected. She greeted him, and Phox relaxed a smidge. Hi, he said. He felt his skin twitch, unease running through him. He had, for the most part, avoided anybody who smelled even remotely like she did right now. And there was a good reason for that. Phox knew the way instinct worked, and he knew it was very difficult to retreat from it.

You from around here? he asked. Oh yes, very smooth.

He didn't flash his teeth, or get possessive like the men she'd seen in recent weeks.
His response was friendly, if a bit guarded. She wondered why; but when he asked his question Sanja was immediately enamored — happy enough to talk about her home.
Kvarsheim, she says with a boastful tone, and turns to motion with her nose, back the way she'd come. Her tail swayed eagerly, herself oblivious to the scent she carried. It had become so diluted to her own nose (maybe because she had become nose-blind to it) that Sanja didn't consider how her presence might bother the man.
He hadn't left yet, so that was a good sign. A part of her — desperately lonely, and hungry, somehow at the same time — did not want him to.
It is heim to me, to -- Sanja, me. She motioned with a dip of her chin to herself, a bit bashful for her verbal stumbling.

He wasn't even going to make an attempt at pronouncing that, but he found it didn't matter. She didn't run away, and she didn't flash teeth at him, both usual reactions Phox had seen with women with that smell. Instead, she was pleasant, friendly, and Sanja.

That's a pretty name, he said, finding himself lulled by her voice. He took a daring, perhaps stupid, step toward her. I'm Phox Redhawk from Epoch. He hadn't realized until now that it rhymed, and he let out a nervous giggle. Why wasn't she chasing him off?

She warmed when he complimented her, knowing just enough of the common tongue to understand.
Fox Redawk, she echoed, trying to make sense of the sounds, and finding it difficult. Maybe she would call him something else in her head. Threer for his three legs, maybe?

E-pock? Epic? She felt foolish for sounding this out! Her tail lowered, the tip shuffling a bit as she considered, and finally she laughed. Is good heim? Far?

He smelled as if he came from somewhere very far. Somewhere mountainous, at the very least. It gave him an earthiness that she enjoyed, and scooched a little closer to carefully investigate the other scents he carried; there were many people there, in his home. Children too -- his children?

You have big family. Sanja mentions as she draws back again, though not by much. Maybe she's invading his space a little bit, maybe she doesn't care; she does feel a little dizzy, and should be more careful — but he was so friendly! She wanted to be near him.

He grinned stupidly as she sounded out the names, far better than he ever would have been able to pronounce the place she called home. He didn't even comprehend the comment on his family, as he was far too concerned with the way his whole fucking body was vibrating. Phox wanted to pull away. Oh shit, this again. No, no, no.

Mhmm, was all he could conjure. That was a universal word, right? She pulled away just slightly, but Phox was quick to close the gap between them. He didn't lead her further into the ritual, but what if...

Something in him woke up just long enough to realize the closeness between them. The smell that hung in the air. The way he so badly yearned for an intimacy that had been gone from his life for so long.

He was beloved. There were so many people with him, always, hanging suspended in the dust of his coat. Sanja was jealous of that, suddenly. She wanted a big family — she wanted her Bjarna home with her, and her blood children too, and wished she had been present to build all of that, properly. What sort of people did this man surround himself with? Able-bodies, to make up for his deficit. Maybe he spent all his time with children born to others? A good father.

All of these thoughts spun through her head less as concrete things, but more as gossamer, as feeling alone. He was so close she could taste his breath.

I want... She didn't know what she wanted, or what she was going to say. It was nice to have company. I want to not... be alone, she managed, quietly. There was a note of desperation in her voice that climbed its way up her throat, and then Sanja tried to swallow it down again.

That explained why she didn't want to leave him, she told herself. Loneliness.

Phox swallowed. He was not alone. He had Towhee, the kids. He wanted more kids, but... no, not like this. Not because of a chance encounter, but because they wanted it, together. In some sense, that was true, but Phox was smart and old enough to know that knocking somebody up in a pack that wasn't shared would end poorly. He had to be there for whatever kids might come of this, and he knew he couldn't do that and be there for Towhee. Fucking logic!

He sucked in a breath. I want that, too. But I can't give you what you really want. Yes, that's up there with "top 10 ways to kill the mood." You're gorgeous and I want nothing more than to give you what you want, but not like this. Is that okay? Can we just... get to know each other? If he'd been dead-set on having kids this year things might be different, but he had kids: Towhee Jr and Sable.

He said a lot, and the tone gave away more than he probably meant. Sanja felt herself deflate almost immediately; she had not realized how badly she wanted what he spoke of — it wasn't something she was actively pursuing either, that she knew of. She had kept herself secluded and on the run throughout her cycle and thought she was free of it. No, she was free of it; she could not sense anything amiss about her body, only that she was desperately lonely and there was a man here who might fill that void that she carried.

That, I want that. She smiled somberly, and nodded. It was hard to quell the instinct within herself to covet his attention, or his closeness, and she only fought against it partway now; letting herself linger close even though he said no, even though she trusted that the window had closed for her this year.

I show you heim? She offered; Or — you tell Sanja, about family? We share. I have... I have daughter, she found herself choking up a bit when she mentions this, and an expression crosses her features that is pinched, painful, a touch nostalgic. She away from heim, now. One day, home again.

He had half expected her to recoil and chase him off. Or beg that he go ahead and do the deed. Instead, she agreed with him, and Phox relaxed. It felt foreign, but not in an unpleasant way. Sanja spoke of a daughter, one who was no longer here with her. Phox knew that feeling well, though he had come to terms with his kids dispersing over the years.

There was a tension in the air, though not as palpable as before. Having said the words aloud made Phox more confident in his ability to resist temptation. He would have to. Not just for her sake, but for Towhee’s, too.

I have lots of sons and daughters, he revealed. I am phother now to my sister’s children; their dad is missing. Phox still held hope that Maxim would return. In what state, he could not say. He could not think that the man would leave his family behind willingly.

Many! As she thought.
He spoke of a systir and she felt a swell in her heart. At first there was some confusion — the father to his systir's children?! — but the more he said, the more she understood. The flash of befuddlement shifted to something calmer.

She felt compelled to console him even though it was not a loss he faced, but one carried by his family, and even though he did not appear outwardly affected Sanja wanted any excuse to get closer; so she brushed his cheek with her nose, and hid the warmth in her face - and the taboo feeling that sizzled her skin - by commenting, —maybe missing, but they have you. That is kind.

He was so different from the men she had known so far! Closer to Gunnar in temperment, she thought; perhaps that was a sign of his age? The younger men were all teeth, no heart. Phox was the opposite.

My heim, it has tall stones. I -- I talk to one for daughter. This was an embarrassing detail to share with a stranger, no doubt! Maybe wish to stone, that your missing man come home?

That would be nice, he said. Though Phox wasn’t sure he believed it would help, it certainly couldn’t hurt to have all the help they could get. For now, he was happy to walk her back home and part ways once they arrived there.