Rosewater Oasis Sol
Loner
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#1
All Welcome 
Relentless heat and the buzz of desert insects. It had been like this for miles. The ground was cast in various oranges and browns. More vibrant in some places but all relatively similar. There was little green, limited to the ground nearest to natural water sources. It was surprising to come upon the glittering oasis and its surrounding life. On the edge of the water sat a fat and happy lizard. It basked in the warmth of the summer sun before scurrying away to the undergrowth as the wolf drew near. 

Juárez drank at the edge of the water. Slow, drawing in his drink with a few lazy laps on the surface. His gold figure would blend well against the redstone backdrop of the desert. Once he’d had his fill, the jaguar turned to look back. @Soto would not be far. 
Loner
sometime come the wolf
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Ooc — Lauren
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#2
he plucks a fat locust from a waving strand of rhodes seed-head, crushing the juicy meat between his teeth. juarez drinks ahead, his pantherine form hunched over silvery water.

soto draws besides him. the heat of the day already so oppressive he feels it wrap around his throat.
Loner
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#3
Juárez sinks his legs into the wet and feels the rush of cool water against his chest. Soto appeared nearby.

Refréscate. Tenemos mucho camino por recorrer.

The jaguar pushed deeper, feeling the water rise to his chin and flush through his exposed teeth. Snout submerged, he gazed at the rush of fish that passed with the current. Juárez pulled back, drizzling onto the surface of the water. The lizard had vanished from its sunbathing place. A few more laps to satisfy him before he stepped onto the bank and shook his coat.
Loner
sometime come the wolf
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#4
soto stood at the bank while his brother slipped into the cool water, the muscles along his back outlined by the sudden heaviness of his fur. 

he did as he was bid, coming to mingle in silence alongside the pantherine form of his brother. 

he remained in the water a little longer, listening to the splatter of liquid as juárez crested the shoreline. 

the lizard was gone and the fish downstream. soto ignored the grumbling of his stomach, turning to the bank after juàrez’s rippling form.
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#5
Soto said little. Juárez eyed him.

The bronzed young man had grown into a sizeable adult. The cool hawkish gold of his eyes, burning with detached interest. It was as though everything and nothing appealed to him. Soto did as he was told and he did so quietly. Juárez could not have asked for a better brother.

The jaguar snickered, sniffing at the tracks that formed near the bank of the water. Wolves had used the trickling creek as a reprieve from the rough dry of the lowlands.

Juárez hummed low in his throat, a rumbling sound. When his voice broke free, it filled the air in a raspy song.

Sobre esa fortuna abandonada en esos cerros de México.

The jaguar was also hungry.
Loner
sometime come the wolf
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#6
after Juárez crested the bank, soto followed. he bent where his brother had and drank of the rich scent deposits there, that spoke of a vibrant tapestry of life visiting these shores. 

the jaguar moved off with a snicker, the rasp of his song floating through the banks of the arroyo. while soto could often be regaled to join, this time he remained silent — for a particular scent caught his attention. 

he moved after it with a flick of his tail towards his brother; look here, it said — where the fresh track of a young hog left perfect imprints in the clay.
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#7
Juárez watched his brother, followed his body language. The jaguar lowered his head and prowled toward Soto, dropping his snout to sniff at the earth. The smell of pig was strong enough - strong enough to follow a trail.

A glint of his exposed teeth showed as Juárez lifted his head and drank on the wind.

They would hunt. He took to following the tracks with a swift pace - rippling muscle with each stride.
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sometime come the wolf
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Ooc — Lauren
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#8
the pelt of his brother ripples as he bends to the earth, musculature rough and gleaming. soto’s eyes travel to the thick connective tissue along his ruff. 

Juárez has had his fill; he swings heavy paws forward in a stalk and soto springs after. 

he follows his nose through the needling dark. the path winds through fen and thicket, but it is by the causeway of stone and rubble that the pig’s scent is thickest.