Greatwater Lake It's not ours to break

@Buffalo

Pallas dipped her head up and down, gauging from her head-weaving the water's depth. Ahead the lake's rippling surface rolled out into gurgling and distant streams where she guessed the landscape turned ripe with rich delta flora. She was unwilling to test the water's cold bite, and instead elected to swing wide of the great lake by trotting casually astride the bank. Just before her there was a scatter and a splash and she froze instantly. Food? Hungrily she hunkered down into the reeds and peered into the shallows where she could just barely make out the slow-moving and primeval form of a languishing cat-fish.

byll was annoying, pushing him away, denying him the pleasure of entering her god-kissed body. and so he left her in a huff, loping toward a lake he had explored only briefly in their passing. hunger gnawed it him beneath his irritation -- the latter was soon forgotten, for buffalo was satanic in his self-gratification, and slaked his thirst with a couple of long and cool draughts. 

his mismatched gaze wandered down the bank until he saw another wolf staring balefully into the waters, hunched down. pale as he was. the man gave a chuff and began to move toward her, curious about what it was she did.

There was a ripple that announced the catfish's lolling gait; underneath the murkwater its mouth gasped and the gentle beams of sunlight pierced the water and afforded the dense murk an amber-like glow. Ahead she heard a chuff and her attention riveted to a stark creature with a burning and mismatched gaze, unlike any wolf she had ever beheld before. That simple glance was all it took for the catfish, who had leisurely finned away into the riffling gloom. Pallas, disappointed by her loss in a meal, did not bid the male welcome; instead, she watched him carefully the way a crow might watch a lion.

buffalo's attention was distracted by a flipping fin that broached the surface and was gone; he quickly realized what had happened but did not apologize. instead, he tipped a wink into the chocolatey stare of the silent woman. "sorry 'bout that, toots." why was she hunting fish anyway, with a whole springtime crop of baby animals to devour? "i'll make it up to you. i know where we can score some fawns." 

buffalo smiled broadly at the woman, hoping to charm a smile from her, or at least something more than the level, pointed glare she was giving him now.

Out of the corner of her eye the Stormthorn had longingly gazed after the plump catfish and the trail of swirling lakeland debris it had disturbed in its wake. Yet it was gone now, and all that remained was the painfully lost opportunity. Pallas would have sourly dismissed the male and was about to do so when he unexpectedly offered an apology. The shewolf was not entirely convinced it wasn't sardonic, but the mention of a possible meal caused her ears to perk forward in interest. His smile was not mirrored -- instead, her gaze seemed to pointedly stamp 'Return To Sender'. On stiff limbs she slid upward, shaking the bogwater from her sodden pelt. "Where?"

"the meadow of berries. unless you don't want to go that far?" he inquired hummingly, smirking at her pointed lack of interest in him. presuming that she did, for the promise of a meal would not be denied, buffalo fell into step alongside the pale woman. he knew that small talk would be wasted on her, and so he set about matching their paces, fixing his eyes ahead.

In truth, Pallas preferred catfish. She trailed him reluctantly, never once removing her gaze from his parting form. She matched his pace with a fluid and ambling stride, though the suspension of it was interrupted by her short hind limb. His eyes were steadfast ahead, so in turn, Pallas set her own sights forward -- though in the back of her mind she certainly considered the possibility he may have been planning some sort of ambush.

the woman walked farther back and buffalo couldn't fault her for it, nor did he mind. she was a strong quiet warrior type, and he liked to talk. they weren't well-met here. no matter -- soon the pallid pair came to the half-ruined expanse of berry bushes, under which the man knew newborn fawns to be tucked. "behold," he laughed mockingly, before descending the slight slope into the fruitland, muzzle to the earth as he searched for the milky scent of new deer beneath the heavy, rich fragrance of ripening berries.

As they walked Pallas looked around her, studying the landscape as it rolled and changed. If Buffalo proved aggressive, she would need to know the lay of the earth. Her observations were interrupted by his announcement that they had arrived and she jerked her muzzle towards a wellworn tapestry of fern and briar. She looked at him, nonplussed, and then peered back into the broken thicket. The pale wolf dropped his muzzle and traced the earth and silently she followed suit, keeping a chestnut-hued eye on his retreating form as she went.

he was aware she was watching him, and had they not been on the hunt in that very moment, he might have called her out for being a creeper. however, he also knew he could be odd himself, and so let it go. the momentary flicker of a leaf caught his eye and he froze for a second, fixed on the brush where he knew a small fawn lay, breathing quietly in terror.

yet he was upon it in the next, sweeping down like a pale and vengeful demon; he caught it by its throat and broke its neck. tossing it to the ground, buffalo moved onward, searching for another -- the bloodlust had taken him.

They combed the small thicket in opposite paths, two pale murderers sundering the wooded realm. Buffalo found their quarry before she did; with a lift of her paw she watched as he seized the little form and flung it from the thicket in a broken heap along the ground. Quietly Pallas watched the eyes of the fawn, the liquid life draining into a dull and unseeing stare. She pulled the broken body towards her: she wished to eat, but was unwilling to lower her head or guard when Buffalo seemed so clearly seized by a terrible and bloodied reckoning.

he was off again; he caught another fawn, and another, relishing in the sound of their brief and helpless bleats before he was forced to collapse, panting, smeared in blood. his mismatched eyes flickered as the haze lifted from him -- he peered around for his silent, stoic companion, spotting her with the first fawn. "hunting with me has its perks," he chuckled, before tearing into the flank of one small carcass to begin his feast.

Pallas watched warily as he went, noting how with each kill he became more bloodsplattered, more spent. He tired eventually and when he turned and pounced upon the ground he was no longer pale but instead a rare bloom of commanding burgundy. Pallas admired the color briefly before splitting one fawn's neck and tasting the succor of its flesh. He was right -- hunting with him did have perks. Pallas had done practically nothing, and had been rewarded with enough to feed a harem. "It does." She announced in agreement, mouth full of sinew. "Who do you hunt for then?" She inquired, wondering if this man was part of some clan she did not know about.

a harem u say

he ignored her for a moment while he filled his belly, then lay down again with a groan, stomach distended with the weight of the meat with which he had stuffed himself. "me, myself, and i," he chortled with his head against the ground. "and byll, my sister." a wicked thought came to him; he rolled to his side and peered slyly at the white wolfess. "i have to feed her if she's to grow fat and healthy enough to carry my kids."

maybe that would horrify her enough to elicit a reaction.

Pallas had expected, given the seemingly enigmatic and nefarious impression she had of the man, that Buffalo would eschew the question. Instead he answered it readily -- and apparently, honestly. While she did not immediately register that it was morally uncouth to bed ones' sister in the eyes of some cultures, her ears did fly forward in surprise at the mention of a comrade. Idly she wondered if this sister was as delightfully strange company as he. "Byll is a male's name." came the dry observation -- as if the only outrageous thing he had said was the implication that his sister possessed a name of decidedly male origin.

she didn't even bat an eye -- buffalo lay back against the ground. all the fun had gone out of the game for him. "ding ding ding," he mocked the pale huntress in a monotone. "you win a prize!" another thought gripped him, but it was a long series of moments before he lifted himself again and peered at the woman. she didn't even seem to be phased by incest, so he doubted she would have any response to anything else he could say.

yet he chuckled wickedly and grinned at the woman. "d'ya wanna know what it is?" with any luck, she would say yes, or say nothing, which was as good as a yes for buffalo and his dubious moral code.

Pallas licked the bloodclod from her white cheeks, observing Buffalo between two leveled and hefty paws. While not a clever prodigy, Pallas was still fully aware of the sarcasm in his voice. He fell silent and she felt no need to press the issue further, as she was quite content to snap the doe he had delivered between her hungry and waiting jaws.

A few moments later the pale wolf rose, and the hazel of Pallas' dark eyes tracked him. She did not rise from her supine position, though she did heft a large paw over the battered face of the fawn as if protecting it. "Yes." Her reply seemed mundane, but a somewhat challenging gleam seemed to flash in her gaze.

he did not miss the challenge, nor the way she covered the face of the doe with a paw, but buffalo wasn't interested in that. he had his own. also, he was way too focused on the punchline of his joke to care about her meal. eyes glinting, he rolled to one side and displayed prominently his family jewels for all to see, even giving them a vulgar waggle against his thigh.

he held his lips together to stifle a giggle; buffalo met the pale woman's eyes as somberly as he could, and in tones choked with reined mirth, he kept the smile from his lips and intoned solemnly: "these nuts."

"oh my god" - accurate rn

Pallas should have known better than to tempt Buffalo, for he seemed the type that needed little encouragement to misbehave. She pulled her head back, her gaze sharp and lingering as he preferred the family jewels for her viewing pleasure. Pallas had never been particularly witty, and a slicing riposte was well beyond her skill-set. All the same she simply stared at them, as if they were a pair of shriveled oranges left in the sun. She shifted a paw under her chest and looked up at the male, an ear canted forward as she innocently responded: "Not much of a prize."

far from being impressed by his offering, the woman responded with a cold voice, insulting him. had he known it was merely her dry nature --- he still would have been offended. buffalo closed his thighs quickly and leapt to his feet. "you're a real assface," he growled, flushed red beneath his pale fur. 

stalking over to his kill, the man stood over it, glared at the wolfess, and then began to tug the fawn away. far away from the woman and her emasculating words! he decided, huffing and puffing with annoyance.