Raven's Watch a string of broken christmas lights

restless, lionel roamed away from the sentinels, returning to his post along the coast.
it was both quick and slowgoing; even with fewer pauses to piss or survey, the boy did not find himself near the mountains before evening.
this particular slice of rock reeked with the heavy markings of the pack that claimed it. lionel mayfair was at once upon his guard, bristling as he pulled away from the borders, but still foolish enough to linger, gaping with curiosity at the place.

-steals thread while you are also waiting for replies from me elsewhere- wheeeeeee
tags for reference

At last, @Stjornuati had granted her freedom. Though it was with caveats, she felt more confident roaming the borders. There were places to be, things to see. Though @Kigipigak had never approached her after the fight with Njord, she did not feel sorry for herself or for him. The wounds he'd gathered were deserved. Slowly, she would rise to be something greater than her former self. The poppy girl was lit aflame again, though now, the fire had no direction or purpose.
Valmúa was hot on the trail of a stranger at their borders. The boy was golden, and bristled, he looked formidable. Such posturing held little effect on the woman of the north, who rushed toward him with red tail waving high and eyes sharp. On approach her pace slowed, and she spoke harshly. Why do you come to the Watch?

WEEE

— oh god o fujk — 
lionel's eyes widened and he took several steps backward as scarlet poured over the edge of the mountainous borders and became the curvaceous shape of a cold-looking warrior. caught between his immediate lust and his sense of self-preservation, the mayfair wisely went with the latter.
"just curious," he mumbled, tailtip twitching in a manner to suggest he meant no challenge to her well-guarded keep. but out of the corner of one murkwater eye he snuck another look. was this a place of amazons? were there more terrifying women due to pop out of the snow, surround him.
he hoped not.
he hoped so.

His retreat was quick and respectful enough, but Valmúa knew boys. She saw the sneaking glance and wide eyes and knew well the warm flame he felt, for it had long been the red northerner who stoked such feathers so they might become blazes. It was quick and slight, the curving grin that turned her lips. Curiosity can kill you, she said swiftly, lifting her head and eying him like a bird of prey on the hunt for small rodents.
Her posture relaxed, and she turned so that her tail flowed easily behind her. Mirroring his steps backward, she moved forward. Even though her brother had let her beyond the Watch, she knew that any wrong move could land her right back in the penalty box. However, he would never be able to police her wily play. What is name? She half-demanded, the words slipping over her tongue like fine chocolate, or perhaps a snake. Who was this delicious young buck who had come to her doorstep, like a moth to a flame?

can you? his cheeky mind shot back, though lionel wouldn't have dared say anything that even resembled such a brazen sentiment. he kept body and gaze in check, though the red blood in him could not help sneaking another glance at the way her —
why was she doing that? confused, the saltboy continued to retreat, until his hind end stumbled over a treacherous stone. down crashed the boy onto his hindquarters, but he was too enthralled to smart for now. "uh, lionel. lionel mayfair." this close, the red woman smelled of stone and snow and other wolves, far more scents than he himself carried.
he didn't dare ask for her name.

She followed him, delighted when he fell. The grin she felt internally was hidden, her heart warming with a delicious silk, a type that could only be forged with such life experiences as this. The crash was met only with the advance of the dangerous woman, who stood over the boy as one might look upon a sow for slaughter.
Such a sweet, cute boy. She could put him in her mouth. I am Valmúa af Stormskýli, she answered, stepping over him to prevent him from rising properly. And this is our Watch, she gestured briefly. She wanted to know his agenda, wanted to know if he had ventured here separately from the talks. Yet the more she looked over his body, the more she decided that he was a stupid boy; he was a ripe fruit for plucking. She stepped further toward him, looking down at him with purpose.

gosh so sorry

the redfox was in his space, her breath sweet with things she had eaten before. lionel stared helplessly, hoping she could not hear the thud of his heart inside its cage of ribs. and her closeness, the savage femininity of her being; it was all the mayfair might do to keep himself from responding, from being exposed in a particularly shameful manner.
"the watch?" he mumbled, clinging to the words as though they were an anchor being lifted from icy water. that was what he needed right about now; a cascade of coldest sea washing over every deceptive part of his treacherous body.
the stag was mesmerized. "are you the queen?" a whisper; voice cracking unceremoniously.

<3

No, she answered crudely, voice raw with pettiness. She knew it likely that at least one of her brothers was watching her, for despite her freedom, she was still prisoner to their wills. She hated the both of them for it, despite the grotesque form of love lingering beyond the surface of her disgust. The fire woman stepped all the way over Lionel at last and turned, allowing him to rise if he chose to protect his undersides from further embarrassment.
Valmúa eyed him without reservation, keeping the distance between them thin and quite unacceptable. She wanted to tell him that she should be Queen. She wanted to tell him she should be able to take him by the nape, drag him to wherever she pleased, and do what she might with him. He was of the same breed as Njord. The same as Kigipigak. They were boys, ready to do her bidding, ready to perform whatever she asked of them. Would you like a tour of my Watch, litli prinsinn?

he wanted to whisper you should be, but lionel was tongue-tied as she stepped dismissively over him, and suddenly ended their connection with even a slender distance. a breath spiraling out from his lungs, held for god knows how long. the fire of her burned at him; he was compelled to only bob his head with a nod.
lionel missed the nuance of her intonation; he knew only that he must follow, and desire strengthened his shock-laden limbs as he straightened to his full height before her. "please show me."
a confidence he did not feel, something that wanted to feel her teeth around his neck. it was not an urge the boy had ever experienced, and he leant drunkenly into it.

His youth was intoxicating. It was ever tempting to become distracted with her new blonde prince, but the sister was a woman of purpose and intention. Thus, she moved forward, bringing her gorgeous charge into the Watch. It was less of a tour that she planned to give and more a hope that she might sneak him over to her favourite place at the base of their sequoia tree. She had plans for him that would likely put her in hot water, but she did not care. Her brothers could not own her, and they would never control the choices she made.
As she walked, she kept her body intentionally close to him as though they had known each other a long time. She clung to the boyish nature of his aura — she could feel tension. My brothers own this place, but they do not know its full potential, she said, knowing quite well that if Stjornuati was to catch her speaking in this way, he might very well decide she was plotting again and throw her out. To Valmúa, it was a game.
They moved under the trees. Ravens watched them, perched ominously. Several of them cawed directly at her, clearly feeling snarky. The dark birds had never liked her. It was one reason why she had felt out of place and angry while cooped up. It seemed ironic then that she had chosen to bring her new plaything into the Watch rather than beyond, but she knew Lionel's use to her. They worship these birds. I do not. I think they are only birds, she said, picking up her pace to get away from the darker parts of their forest.

lionel was drawn along in her wake, feeling his skin fair crisp beneath the royal heat she radiated. the storm-sylph spoke of her brothers, and that should have put lionel onto his guard. but it did not; he was delirious with her attentions toward him, and it muddled all reason he should have to be wary. several times the stag considered snaking his nose along the proud arch of her neck, but did not dare.
lionel scarcely diverted his attention to look at what was around them — until they came to the branches clustered with the large black birds. there he drew to a slower walk, craning his neck back with a surprised 'o' muddling his mouth quite stupidly. valmúa spoke of her brothers again, and this time lionel listened with a bite of anxiety behind his ears. brothers as in multiple, who worshipped the sharp-eyed fowl. the stag drew to her side again, of course, but perhaps with a bit more alertness as he was swayed deeper into the claim. "they could never complain about you anyway. birds can't talk."