Two Rivers Isle invisible string

@Winterbourne and/or @Ingiullik! Tag for reference.

Eshe lounged by the edge of Imugi Lake, dipping her toes into the water, enjoying the tranquil haven she and @Argent had discovered. While she wasn't sure what they'd done to deserve such a place, she tried her best not to overthink it, and simply enjoyed everything the land provided them. 

During the afternoon, under a pleasant cloud cover, a gentle breeze would come and go, making her shiver. Still, this did not stop her from enjoying her time by the water. She was in such a state of relaxation that she couldn't muster the energy to move, and she was on the verge of dozing off if left undisturbed.

His hunt took him closer to other wolves than he and Ingiullik typically strayed. The scents were thick here, but not so aged that Winterbourne thought he might pass into a claim. He assumed these wolves to hold a position not dissimilar from his own; wanderers in search of a home for the spring. For their family.

His ears twitched at the sound of tiny footsteps across foliage somewhere at his back — but his mind never truly left his wife, or the children she surely carried now. So when the sharp musk of wolf-scent reached him on the breeze, stronger than ever now, he reluctantly turned away from the opportunity in favor of ensuring the security of his small family. Best to make nice with the neighbors before they found a reason to get pissy.

Or to find out now about the potential threat.

His path took him to a lake, and the silver wolf reclined beside it. Winterbourne chuffed his greeting, stopping to drink some distance away. His gaze flitted back to the woman every few seconds, watchful. But he would let her have the first word.

Upon detecting an unusual smell, she became vigilant and observant as a man arrived at the lake, chuffed, and started drinking. Silence hung in the air between them, leaving her mind in a whirlwind of confusion and self-doubt as she wondered where this man came from and if they'd somehow missed his scent. She hadn't thought that they were trespassing, but she had to make sure. 

She cleared her throat and asked, Hey, I'm not trespassing, right?

It wasn't the question he'd expected. The woman's self-doubt was apparent to him, and Winterbourne's first instinct was to reach for that soft spot — to press until the blood welled and he could see what really lurked beneath it. But it was probably better to be polite, right?

Nope. Am I? A wry smile pulled faintly at his lips as he lifted his muzzle from the water. She was a pretty thing — a married thing, if the strength of male scent surrounding her was anything to go by. That was alright. He could play nice.

She was reassured that they were not trespassing, but his question gave her pause. Even though they were working on claiming the place as their own, technically he was trespassing. However, since they were still in the early stages of marking their territory, she wasn't concerned about it. Their scents were weaker than those of a typical pack, making it an understandable mistake.

Technically, yes, but I don't blame you for not catching our scent. My husband and I moved here a few days back, and we've only just begun staking our claim, she explained, her tail swaying behind her as she watched him.

Ingiullik had stuck to the man she fancied her husband like glue, blissful, for the moment, in their seclusion. There seemed to be no one else in the world, and she was enchanted by their little fairytale life in the woods. But they were still on the search for a proper den, and gradually, Ingiullik had begun to wonder if she shouldn't be seeking out other women instead. She'd never done this before!

When she found Winterbourne speaking with a strange woman, her reaction was immediate: pleasant surprise and a strident surge of joy. How strange and delightful it was to see another feminine face!

"Hallo!" she called, picking up the pace to move her fat little body closer. Oh, there was still plenty of muscle to be found on her! But her husband had done a good job of feeding her and their growing family. "I am Ingiullik! What is your name?"

She came up beside Winterbourne, casting a radiant smile up at him that dimmed only a little when she looked at the woman. It occured to her only then that the stranger was very pretty.

Ah, there she was. Winterbourne turned warm eyes to Ingiullik as she called out, tail swaying slowly for a few moments while she made her way to his side. A gentle, playful bump of his hip against her own was his only greeting for now. He pressed his flank to hers in a subtle gesture of possession and turned his eyes back to the woman.

Seems we're in the same sorta boat, He commented amiably. Winterbourne's the name. My wife and I are looking for a place, too. Guess this one's taken, though, honeybee. His last words were directed to Ingiullik, still as good-natured as ever.

They were joined by a pretty, young thing with a body softened by pregnancy, and she regarded the other woman with a smile. I'm Eshe, she said, addressing them both. It's nice to meet you two. 

When Winterbourne remarked that they were in similar situations, and that this area was taken, she perked, pushing herself to a sitting position. If you guys need a place to stay, there's plenty of room here, she offered with a smile. I'm sure my husband wouldn't mind the company, either—I know I'd like to see some more familiar faces around.

The conversation took her just a moment to parse. The woman's name was Eshe, she was — pregnant? It was hard for Ingiullik to understand, having not been privy to the rest of the conversation. She listened with her eyes pinging back and forth between them. When they landed on an invitation, her tail began to spin.

"Here?" she asked, eyes wide on the woodland around them. Already, it seemed a warmer place to her. A beatific smile graced her features. "I would like this," she declared, looking to Winterbourne for permission for half a second before she remembered: I do what I want!

What a strange thing to forget.

She looked back to Eshe.

"I must find a den! — Truly? We might look for one among you and your husband?"

She glowed; Winterbourne had called her his wife. He had called her honeybee, which she was growing to love with devastating fervor.