In times of bother, one found their comfort in the things that reminded them of home, or in any instance brought them calm where the words of others might fail. Rather than seek out the warm presence of her denmate and companion, since her dismissal from the Creek, the warrior had chosen a hole in the mountain to find peace. But even in the cramped crevice, there was only so much security she could find in the earthen walls. Only so much calm she could attain before sadness crept into the delicate flesh of her heart.

She has been shunned away many a time in her prior home. It came with the territory of being a traded female rather than one born and raised in the fold. But never had she been dismissed by one she called friend and trusted. It was a strange, hurtful feeling that took a while for her to realize that it stemmed from assuming her presence was no longer wanted. And it worsened when such words had indeed fallen from the mouth of her mentor. She did not believe herself deserving of the consequence, and yet she was forced to endure it none the less. She had lost something precious while the Creek carried one dismissive of their transgression. Such a backwards way of looking at things, and she could not begin to wrap her mind around it.

By the afternoon of the following day, her thoughts had not changed. Still she clung to the disbelief of their audacity, but it had lessened somewhat as was the result that came with time. With some internal motivation, she managed to peel herself from the inner walls of her keep to fill her lungs with the warming mountain air… yet in doing so she caught the wisps of a scent nearby. An all too familiar scent that brought her hackles to stand on end. They had only just dismissed her, now did they seek to further drive their teeth into the still fresh wound?

Merciless.

Soundlessly, she emerged from the den assuming claim to a rock adjacent to her hideaway. With head high and tail curled, she surveyed the lay of the rocky scape in earnest, hoping to find hide or tail of the Creek wolf before they crossed nearer to the Vale. She glimpsed a shock of white then among the rocks, familiar in its coloration that it elicited a draw of her lips and a rattling call for attention. Why on earth was he here now?

As anger and rage were quite new to her experience, a fortunate effect was that she hardly had the means let alone motivation to hold onto it for long. Though ‘hurt’ was easy. Hurt was a well-known expression endured for more seasons than she cared to admit. And with it came the ease of masking it, letting it fall behind the solidifying façade of indifference as Njal expressed his intentions.

Apologize?

The word echoed in her mind, its reverberations knocking against her fortified resolve until it began to ebb one crumbling fragment at a time. No one had ever come to apologize to her, but the novelty of it only lasted as long until the announcement of the transgressor’s name was given. And even then her face remained hard, unmoving, as if the wind itself dared not to stir the hairs of the stone visage. Drawing upon that anger from the memory of that day would serve her no purpose now and was better left alone. She was more composed than to lash him with her anger especially, when he had not taken part in the breech of her pack’s security. However, there was a dark sect of her mind that would have favored equal torment, if only to instill the same unrest that pale female had given to her brethren. Instead, she breathed deeply through dark, flaring nostrils, and expelled the breath slowly through the gradual part of her weathered jaws.

“I cannot accept your apology, as it was not your actions that brought this complication…” exhaling, she leapt from her pedestal to stand on level ground. Minding their proximity, she remained closest to the mountain as if in its great mass she would find the strength to remain on her own four paws. Letting her eyes fall to the ground, she looked anywhere but to the earth dusted paws of her mentor. “I do not understand why it would matter if you need word from your superior,” she expressed, unembarrassed by her ignorance in the Creek’s inner workings. “Nor do I understand how you would call me ‘friend’-“ meekly, her ears folded back against her head “-when just as easily you claim I am unwelcome when I have done nothing wrong.”

There had been hope when told of his interest to continue their training, but it was fleeting when reminded of the complications of their arrangement. For one reason or another, it seemed that the Creek wolves were not kindly to the Vale; a reality that left the warrior terribly uneasy. Had it been on part of the Vale, she could have taken what methods she could have to resolve it, but since it was not on their part, she was at a loss of what to do. And because of this, she did not foresee the hope in a continued arrangement lasting for long.

Family, unlike ‘wife’, was indeed a word she knew. However rather than fond sentiments and strengthened bonds of loyalty, in her mind it was a tattered hide woven layered in broken promises and betrayal- well-weathered and strained until it was an ugly sight to behold. To hear of it again made her lips quiver somewhat, yet she kept herself in check, choosing to conceal her teeth rather than allow her dislike blossom further. Instead she listened, and deeply in the hopes of understanding just where this man was coming from. The complications he himself endured, they did not seem to make sense to the warrior’s mind. Was knowing her such a burden that he needed to lie to his companion and leader? Were the consequences of their arrangement that severe?

Her muzzle was clasped shut lest she repeat her confession for the third time on the situation. But the scrunch of her brows were sure to betray her as would the questioning cant of her muzzle to the side. It was no fault of the Vale, her ignorance. She had lived a life within a den away from the deeper workings of her home. She was only told what she needed to know. All other quips of knowledge were scrounged by her own experiences and luck. But what she could understand, when all else failed, was the voice of sincerity regardless of its accent.

Timidly, she lowered her nose to look down at a large paw, watching as it moved seemingly on its own accord to push and brush bits of rock to and fro. “Our friendship is important to me…” mumbling her confession, she pushed a small rock away with a blunt claw. Her ears perked forward to the sound of its clatter against the earth, then drew back as she continued as softly as per usual. “I wont refuse you. If I did, I would gain nothing, and would lose someone important.” She paused, suddenly feeling a tightness in her throat making it difficult to speak. “But I,” quietly, she cleared her throat. “…can you be certain our friendship would not cause you trouble?” The last thing she wanted was her desire to make another’s life more difficult, even if it was him that offered to continue their bond.

He was near her before she had a chance to spy his moment, but it was a fault of her own for looking at her paws. It was not by her name that she raised her head to look at him, but the sudden rush of warmth passed from living body in motion against the brisk air. He did not touch her, but she felt his presence as if the physical barrier had been breached. And in the same regard she felt the hairs of her nape stand on end, her heart quicken and breath still, as if the slightest movement would be the catalyst of some unknown event. In her stillness, she might have forgotten the reason for his visit had the gravity of it not weighed itself so heavily. She had to remind herself of it, as umber and gold caressed the contours of his muzzle to rest at its bridge.

Did he really believe that? Did she for that matter?

But then, had it not been the act of one that effected the two wholes so completely? Perhaps something positive could come from the continued interaction, as long as it was tended to gently and moderated with care. She was a perhaps a fool to believe that such things could happen simply because they were said. But rather she struggle with a glimmer of hope to hold fast to, than surrender to pessimism without so much as trying. Only time would tell if this slim possibility became a reality. And looking to him, as the corners of her lips rose faintly, she hoped the fates would be willing, and the minds of the others open.

“I suppose, we will see then,” remembering to breathe, she exhaled softly, and she smiled lightly in her relief. Feeling the tension ebb somewhat, she even went as far as to extend her muzzle and tap it lightly against a whiskered cheek. A friendly gesture, one she shared often with her superior. A sign of trust and care, and a solidifying bond that indeed they would still remain friends.

To be lost in ignorance was both blessing and curse, as it awarded the mind the pleasures of not knowing, and damned it with the burden of not understanding. The deeper bonds between the soft grey male and his wife were distant from her comprehension, that she did not think of it at all for the moment. Even when the warnings of uncertainty rang soundly in her ears. Rather than heed their tones, she was fixed by her ignorance, damning herself for not understanding the pull elicited by a single touch, nor the cause for warmth that brewed from her belly to touch her cheeks. It was pleasant, undeniably, but she could find nothing in her mind to compare this impression to. Let alone a reason why a small, lengthened touch would react with her so. The new was frightening, yet thrilling, worth the bold progressive step to follow his retreat.

They had fallen silent inevitably. Now with a resolution there was no need for either to speak, let alone linger. Yet she did not step away nor did she allow him to do the same- not without a slight hindrance to his progress. Smoothly she slipped forward to cross the path of his retreat, a broad shoulder jut forward to bar him for a moment as again she nudged her muzzle forward to press against the length of his own.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to part, yet the better part of her resisted as if there was no need. Her thoughts of consequence were far and in between, lost in the muddled hues of pale grey and soft white. At a better time, she might have considered her actions as an outsider peering in, but her mind was deeply enthralled in the moment, succumbing to both warmth and the strange comfort derived by so intimate a touch. It was not all like what she shared with her lead; their little game bringing her glee then falling away when she felt her actions too juvenile. But this… this was different in all sense. Her heart did not hammer with the excitement of a game, but the slow, rhythmic stirring, churning the heated blood through veins fully opened. Her body felt heavy, near lulled by his touch. The breath on her nape that sent a chill along her spine. The fine weave of pale grey into wild curls of soft gold…

…marred only by the soft patter of cold against her nose.

Eyes unintentionally closed snapped open as the sobering droplets began to fall. Each drop, a needle permeating the thick flesh, made worse by the warmer state of the victim body. They began slowly, more a note for attention as they fell quietly on the rocks, then grew with intensity as the full width of the hovering cluster of clouds drifted overhead.

By cooling rain, the spell once cast had been broken, and with it the contact that had bound them together. She was quite at peace even when she found herself rather suddenly along in the midst of a heavy pour. The roar of the rain became deafening, but she hardly noticed, as the sound of her heart hammering in her ears had become all she knew. She could not feel her legs or any other part for that matter. Just the steady, heavy rhythm of her heart. Never had she felt such a way before now. But then, she had never felt so at peace yet terrified at the same time. It was thrilling.

She lingered a moment more upon her ledge, then gradually found her paws again to move. It was much too late to return to her haven, and chose instead to return to the thick of the Vale woods. All the while she wondered, even long after the scent of the Creek had faded, if her lead had ever felt such a way before. Or was she alone in this strange wonder… and would she ever feel it again.

[Exit]