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Vague on the sandstorm thread, possibly set before it?? Whenever you have time <3
Much of her time was dedicated now to caring for S'ari, but Candle had not forgotten the words exchanged with @Zoug. Something had changed between them, something she could not put a name to. Yet she felt the need to acknowledge it all the same, and so one day she departed the ravine briefly with this in mind.

When she returned it was with a shell clutched between her jaws, scoured lightly with sand and rinsed in clean water until the colors were bright again, then stuffed with fresh-caught lizards and mice and odd fruits. Candle carried the offering carefully, searching for Zoug. Her intentions were uncertain even to her. But there was a bright, hopeful cast to her gaze as she looked for him.
can be set whenever! <3

candle approached. zoug, who had been chewing the end of a root into a point, lifted his head.

his single eye fixed on her, then fell to the turtle-shell and its offering. 

zoug did not speak. he waited for candle to make herself clear, though he hungered for what she had brought. she was not a clan woman; he could not expect her to read his cues.
She found him chewing a root, and her tail swayed with joy at the sight of him. Candle laid the turtle shell at his feet and lowered herself to her belly in front of him, leaving only a little distance between them. For you, She told him, eyes drifting curiously over the root.

But she wouldn't ask, not yet. First she wanted to give her gift properly, let Zoug inspect all that she had gathered for him. It had occurred to her to put together a similar gift for S'ari simultaneously, but the priestess thought that such gifts would be lost on their ailing Mediator in her current state. So she would wait. For now, it was Zoug she meant to demonstrate the extent of her feelings for.
for him.

zoug looked at candle again but began to explore the bright shell with its food. he chewed contentedly on a lizard, then another.

the single eye found the coyote woman again.

"for me. why?" because she was not clan, there was another reason, zoug felt, and encouraged her to say her words with a low grunt.
He questioned her, and maybe that was to be expected, but Candle was nonetheless caught off-guard. She hesitated.

I... But she did not know the word for it in his language, and so she faltered. No word. Candle settled on after a moment. She let out a breath through her nose and shifted, caught in some kind of discomfort at the notion of trying to explain without the right words.

Still, she did not want to leave him entirely without an explanation. She touched a paw to her chest lightly, then to his. You. Home.
you, home.

it was a sentiment he understood, one he felt.

zoug grunted a low note, but this time he stood and reached toward her.

"cave. home. us."

a proper home. one that would not move from their hotlands. a home for children.
Zoug seemed to understand, even in absence of the proper words to explain — and this had always been the way of things between them, even as he taught Candle his language and learned her own. He spoke again of a cave; a place where they would be safe from wolves, from the scorching whims of their desert home. A place for their children, she understood in some instinctive way, though Zoug had not voiced this.

Candle nodded, her heart racing as he reached for her. And she met his touch without hesitation, but she was subdued in this moment; careful, mindful of the fact that Zoug had never initiated touch before this. She did not want to overwhelm him.

Or maybe she did want that; to pull him close and wrap him in a tight embrace, to hear the steady thrum of his heart and feel the desertweave of his fur mixing with the red shadow of her own. But not at the cost of his comfort! Never for that price. And so she was slow in the press of her muzzle to his fur, a soft whine brewing in her throat, agreement and affection twined in her tone. A cave, then. A place to raise their children in love and safety, and in the wordless understanding which had always been theirs.
"woman, you always give a lot of touch," zoug commented, but his single eye was soft, his voice gentled. 

it was good to have her warm against him, to feel his pulse quicken at her clear joy for their future. and if he allowed himself to think of it, it would be equal goodness to have children around.

it meant the tribe, and the clan, would go on.

and he could raise them properly.

for now he indulged himself and candle, nosing along her sensitive ears with something like a smile on his face.
Candle smiled shyly at his comment, tucking herself a little closer. And she knew that his home, the home he'd known before The Tribe, was important to him; she knew that he would pass this to their children, and truly, it was what she hoped for. Nothing could replace what he had lost, but perhaps in the creation of something new he would rediscover some of those missing pieces.

The priestess herself had little to give in that regard. It was her future she wished to pass to their children, not her past. But between the two of them, she thought that they might find a beautiful sort of balance.

For now it was only them; only two coyotes in a vast desert who had little more than each other and their promises for the future. It was more than enough for Candle.