Redhawk Caldera I've been around for a long, long year

maybe a wild @Abaddon?

the woman moves easily through the rock, snow growing thick all around. she had only recently traded hunger for pain; a skirmish over a carcass that had been messier than hoped. the male had torn deep into her flank before she'd run him off, far too close to valuable tendons than she'd ever want another's fangs to be. 

she's off her game; famine and isolation does not suit her. anger erodes more quickly through the barriers she puts down to keep it in place; it is only a liability in fights she needs to win. finding a partly sheltered alcove beneath an overhang, she pauses, inspecting it briefly before sinking onto her side, already moving to clean the wound as best she can.

Cannibalism wasn't something he turned his nose up to. Thankfully with Vengeance leaving much to pick off of through his guarding, Abaddon had something to nibble on every now and then along with any other scraps left behind by the pack. He was not above scavenging. It kept him from wasting away to nothing, he was thinner than usual, but not skeletal. 

But it was something else that caught his nose while wandering away from the misty woods once more... the scent of fresh blood. Bleeding blood. Living. He had to investigate... with his nose in the air, he followed the tantalizing smell, his mouth watering as he grew nearer... nearer, with every step. 

As the sight came into view his steps slowed to a stop. His eyes washing over the pale woman before speaking in a buttery tone. Would you like any help with that?

wind rakes through her fur; the falling snow threatens to thicken. and yet, the wraith is aware of the footfalls, the presence, before he makes himself known. she thinks for a moment it is the loner, back on some foolhardy notion of revenge, but the man that steps through the dizzying curtain of snow is a stranger. 

she straightens, tongue slipping over a similarly bloodied muzzle as she regards the man. his face is as a skull, deeply carved and accentuated with charcoal. the words he speaks, the buttery tone, do not belong to a man like him. she ponders him a moment, judging, before offering, "if you are bold enough." it is an invitation, a test; she is motionless as she regards him.

Blue rimmed rubies washed over the woman as he waited for a response, which came quickly enough. She was sharp, elegant, a beauty for certain, much more so than that young Nightwalker. Perhaps it was her age that allured him, the older women were much more pleasant to keep around than a volatile child still trying to wrap their heads around reality. 

You would be surprised just how bold I can be. With sweeping feet he approached, watching her reaction ever so carefully. Though bold, he was not stupid. Should she snap he would not risk his flawless face to her wrath. This way you could rest while I do all the work. He tried to appeal to her wounded side, to rest instead of working on healing themselves, she could take it easy for a moment while he... satisfied a bloody hunger. 

he replies in turn, and her gaze does not waver as she considers him further. he steps a little nearer, she remains impassive. he's young, she thinks, but by no means does this seem to affect his confidence. what she can not immediately disconcert is his motivation; she knows he must have one, and yet it is hardly obvious. a caregiver, a healer, would make the offer he does only because it is what they do, and there is reward, for some, in the act of helping another. this man is no healer, she doubts skull-face has ever cared for another in any capacity. 

"hm," she feigns contemplation, though her features remain set. "does the altruistic healer have a name?" perhaps it is power over another, a stranger, he seeks. she will stall him a little longer; it is her experience that those motivated by control, power, can only keep up a facade so long before they snap. and if not, he's certainly interesting enough to warrant further investigation.

She was careful, that was normal. Nothing he couldn't work around. Nothing he couldn't handle either. She was wounded after all, and he was hungry. How much could she struggle against him anyway should his hunger come to a fever pitch? It made him smile. For both their interest, he hoped the beauty would simply cave and let him lick her wounds. Every drop. 

His approach was slow and grew even more sluggish as she questioned for his name. He found her golden eyes with his own dueling fire and ice. I am Abaddon, at your service. He gave a low, elegant bow. May I ask yours? He said with a sweeping sidestep. Creeping just ever so closely step by step until invited.

he crept closer all the while, offering what she could only assume to be his true name freely. he presses next for hers, and she did not answer immediately, instead considering still his approach. it was unrelenting, and to allow him to approach unhindered was poor form. the other option, aggression or fleeing the situation, did not appeal. rising, she moves to meet him, drawing alongside him and pressing her muzzle briefly to his side. this near, she can scent pack, albeit not as strongly interwoven as most. "you can call me eirwyn." she offers, peering back at him and wondering just how quickly she could seize his neck in her jaws, should the need arise.

And she moved. Oh damn it all. It took everything for him not to roll his eyes in frustration at her no longer sitting to accept his approach, it would be much harder to lick that wound of hers with her walking around and all. Instead, he watched her approach. Her touch sent his hairs on end, defensively rising in response to her taking the initiative to prod at his side. 

My my, Eirwyn, you're quite forward if I do say so myself. Pulling back, he created distance once more. Not approving of being preyed on. He was the predator after all. She was the one who called to him with that wound. Do you like what you smell? he turned to face her, quirking a brow at his own question while a grin tickled his lips in a striking composure for someone mildly irked... and suddenly hungry.