Absently, she pulled back, preening the fur behind his ear. She remained silent in her worry, for even though she liked the wood (for she had always found the allure of thickly wooded places ever so enchanting) this observation was pushed aside.  "maybe we should have gone south." He pulled back, and his fur slipped away from her without complaint, and her gaze met his steadily. "no." 

to the latter she did not answer, but an acknowledging flick of her ears offered all the agreement needed. but this she could not share with him, not this time. for her pride was her weakness, and with her pride came a fierce avoidance of ever, ever appearing weak, as Pema had so implied. and certainly, these feelings - longing for an open future, the unknown, free wanderings, were selfish and thus weak. for a leader did not desire these things; a leader desired all that had been offered to her. and to shrink before her neatly paved future was to be weak in the face that all that was to come, and this - 

he was speaking again, the lyrical words slashing through the threads of thought in her mind, scattering them. she blinked at him, moving nearer a moment. "I want you." again, a simple statement, but one not as simple as it was intoned. she wanted to want him as easily as it was to say it, to want him and the future he offered. she was still as she regarded him, not sure why the words had left her maw. 

he shook his head at her words, smiling graciously. "too hot for your father," he said, thinking of grayday's thick, plush pelt, "and yours, as well. sunny. . .shale. . .you all were born and bred for the north." aditya shrugged, with another minute sigh. "sab theek. it'll be spring soon enough."

spring, with its promise of new life. though none would come from their loins, he had seen the look between his alpha and catori at the blood moon. pups would come. . .and perhaps pema would choose to have a litter, too. he wondered briefly whether the healer had anyone in mind, in the first place.

her next statement jarred him slightly, and he peered at her, wondering if this was the reason she had been so solemn as of late. lust, and its effect on the young mind. surely not? dawn was passionate, but he'd never known the girl to have an appetite of that nature. not yet, anyway.

and he--oh. almost too late, he saw her eyes, bold and brave but with the barest hint of something akin to fear buried deep within the amber orbs. not lust, then, something else. . .

"but," he prompted blandly, his mouth suddenly dry. his lips drew in a straight, tight line. "there's a 'but' coming, right? you want me, but. . ."

no buts. yet somehow, he didn't believe her.

she pressed herself against him, lifting her muzzle to nibble at his ear. he let out a shuddering breath as she did so, shifting his weight uncomfortably. she had watched and learned--from who he didn't know. perhaps catori, or some other temptress. goddamn it, she had watched and learned. 

months of frustration pent up inside threatened to burst like a broken dam, and a savage growl bubbled in his throat, not one of violence but of love. fuck, even without her heat she intoxicated him! his fur bristled, his toes curled. his eyes rolled back, and he lowered his head to take the scruff of her neck between his teeth, gently yet firmly.

he would turn her, rise up, possess her. the wild girl would be his at last. finally, she would know--

he paused, her neck still in his mouth. the lust racing through his blood froze suddenly into icy dread. she was cold, and stiff, and. . .empty. her amber eyes had held seemingly nothing when she had looked at him, and yet his body had responded anyway. she spoke but the words were wrong. she touched but the gesture held no warmth. 

this was a game. no buts, but she was lying.

"stop." aditya pulled away, shaking his head in a mixture of remorse, exasperation, and shame. his body throbbed, though now with fear rather than passion. what had turned his wild girl to stone? "dawn, no," he said, his voice firm, though not without a quaver. "i've seen this dance before. you're here, but you're not. . .here."

his lips pulled tight once more, into something that almost was a snarl. "don't fuck me to fake it," he said, his words crass but sincere. "tell me what's wrong."

his breath came hard and fast, and the passion that had vanished a moment ago came back in waves. it ebbed and flowed like the tide, and if she did not leave him, he might be tempted to have her. all of her. and he'd be gentle and kind. . .but he wouldn't be able to stop, once he'd started. 

he could run off and fuck someone else, true. spare her feelings, her body, from the sudden onslaught. save their first coupling for a more romantic occasion, when the girl was finally in heat and able to bear their children and he wasn't so frustrated. take someone else for now, instead.

but he didn't want someone else. he wanted her.

with the utmost patience, aditya stood still in the snow, his heart hammering in his chest, staring her down with raptor-gold eyes. she continued to lie, or at least dance around the truth. why? what was she hiding? what was she so fearful to reveal to the one wolf who would never abandon her, not even for any perceived fault on her part?

then again, maybe it was his fault. the girl was young; perhaps she had found more enjoyment from a male closer to her own age, more in common, more energy. his age, though still somewhat low--this was only his fourth winter, after all--weighed suddenly heavy, something like drowning. 

but how could he voice it? how could he accuse her of rushing after someone else, especially if it was not true? she would never forgive him for his lack of trust; his trust, he thought, was what had won her over in the first place. trust, and saccharine words--honeyed phrases his tongue lacked in this painful, shattered moment.

maybe it wasn't someone else, but something else. something had changed in her; she didn't want him anymore, or at least not the future they had planned. that hurt worse than the internal dig at his age, he thought, feeling his stomach clench.

he had lain awake at night, dreaming of the seasons to come. made love to her in his mind a thousand times. named their children, and saw their faces clear as day.

here he stood, speechless, looking at her. nothing is wrong. she was lying--but how could he say so?

dard-e-dil. . .dard-e-jigar. . .dil mein jagaya aapne. . .

his uncle's song. he had sang one of vishal's tunes to dawn before, when they had first met. she had been charmed by it, and in turn, charmed by him as a whole. they had fallen in love, and not looked back. now another melody had sprung to mind and for what? the chasm between them in this moment was as boundless as the ocean, and he with no idea how to cross it.

with a small whine, as if he were sickly once more, aditya sank down on his haunches, hanging his head. well, and if she wouldn't--couldn't--show him weakness, he had no such reservations. she had mystified him, hurt him, and it all ripped suddenly at his chest like white-hot claws and fangs.

for days the doubts had worried at her, and yet suddenly they seemed so foolish when Aditya crumbled before her. she moved slowly, at once wary to touch him, the fragile thing he'd become, and it was after a moment that she nosed over his shoulder, circling tightly around him. "no no no," she breathed, ears pressed flat against her skull, unsure of what to do with this frailty that had her suddenly fear, and not for her selfish pride. she had worried so at cementing herself down that she had not considered the alternative, had not considered this. 

 "I feel trapped,"  she said at once, desperate now to stop this frail Adi. "you, leading, our future; I knew - I know where it leads. I know how things'll turn out, and maybe I'll be happy but-" dawn stopped, breath ragged in the stillness, and she realized that she'd much rather Adi yelled, spoke, did something. "it's wrong, it's selfish," she bit down hard on the word mistake, its implications, its meaning.  "but I want that openness, again. but I'm not supposed to want that,"

and in her selfishness, in her doubt, she'd hurt Adi, clawed at him and slashed lines of pain across what they were. she did not know how to fix it could only offer her own heavy thoughts in some desperate attempt to even the playing field. she hated this, for she'd been the one to spill the pieces, and now she did not know how to put them back together.

her words hit him like teeth, tearing into him with each and every syllable. he felt weak, exhausted, out of breath.

and pathetic. not good enough. he knew it. it was about him. even his own wanderlust wouldn't sate her. she was limitless, meant to be tethered to no one. 

she'd have to make her own decision on the matter. perhaps she already had.

he flinched at her touch, so at odds with her words. how could she comfort him, speaking things like that? anger flickered in his heart, a tiny tongue of flame. 

he would have died a thousand times for her.

she was right. she was selfish. 

"i'm tired," aditya said, his usually musical voice devoid of all color. he couldn't look at her, instead gazing toward the ground as he rose to his feet. "i'm going back to sleep."

with lead paws, he trudged back to where easy was sleeping, the snow covering his tracks almost as soon as he'd left them. as if he'd never been there. 

maybe she'd prefer that. maybe she'd be happy.

maybe he should have died of that fever.