Totoka River I am so many types of bitches I`ve lost count

@Alastor & @Zoratto
I think I PP'd a little. No harm done, I promise <3

The life of a loner was exciting, full of uncertainty and adrenaline. Leaving Tortuga was probably the best decision Vixen had ever made, for now, like never before, she felt truly free. It was true, she had found the many silver linings of being the crew bitch, it was also exciting, but it did not compare to the real freedom.

However, it had been way too long fighting starvation and running away from packs like a coward. That was not what Vixen wanted, and she was no fool to think she could survive the cold that was rapidly growing nearer. No, she decided she needed to find a pack at least for the winter, one that did not bore her to death. She'd been eyeing the northerners from afar, but there was nothing striking or compelling about their way of life, and the new southerners were no better. So for now she guards the riven in between, feeding off of what it's waters give her, and luring in brave warriors to take a bath with her in the Tokota.

She sees them from afar, two males of silver approaching her camp, and she cannot contain the excitement. Except she does, and she makes herself most visible by entering the waters, right across their way, and swings her hips like hula hoping to get their swords drawn out on her.

He walked at Alastor's side through the northern lands, his thin coat little protection against the whipping brisk breezes that began sweeping in from the north. Winter was coming, as he was so readily reminded. The Dotharan walked close to Alastor, selfishly using the Greek to protect him from the biting wind. Even as they crossed into the sands of the seashore, Zoratto used Alastor as a shield from the salty wind. He spat every once in a while, sand and salt finding their way into his mouth. He muttered something about poison water, hoping that they ventured deeper inland soon before he was full of salt.

There was a river up ahead, which Zoratto scowled at with suspicion. River full of poison water too? He asked his companion, barely noticing the firey female sensually walking out of the water until they get close. And even then, he ignores the woman, focused on washing the salt and sand out of his mouth.

The wintry winds did little to effect the male, though it was every now and again that they'd manage to reach down towards his skin. Yet, he'd kept moving, allowing the other to use him as a shield, though he knew not how effective it was. They'd continued like that even after having reached the shoreline, which, again, the Greek didn't mind. He'd been born near to a coast, he'd visited the sea several times in his youth, he was used to the salt in the air. For him, it was just another trip through a familiar terrain. Having heard his companion mutter something about poison water, however, he'd increased the pace at which he moved, attempted to get them away from the sea quicker. Still, though, there was a long ways to go, and so he'd kept the other in his thoughts. Whenever an especially large gust of wind decided to sweep by, he'd tried to better shield Zoratto, but he wasn't always quick enough, or sometimes his body just wasn't large enough to offer the best of protection; but it was the thought that counted.

When the river had come into sight, he was asked something that he wasn't entirely sure how to answer. Thus, Alastor had given a shrug, along with, "I'm not sure. I haven't been here before." Or, if he had been, he couldn't remember. When they'd drawn closer and the woman was noticed, he'd looked first to Zoratto, and then back towards her. She was pretty, he'd noted, but he wasn't exactly attracted to her. Still, he'd steered them off in her direction, a bow of his head having been displayed prior to speaking. "Excuse me," he'd voiced, hoping to gain her attention for just long enough to ask a question. "Is the river's water of the sea?" Surely she'd know, which would prevent either of the males from having to test it out for themselves.

They walked u to her, and Vixen kept to her sylph in the water paper until she realized something was wrong. The tall one with the mask kept hiding behind the silver hunk, who approached her with a question about the water. "'tis sweet as honey, love. Why don't ye a pair join me?" she invites, letting the water run down her chest as she dips and resurfaces with her coy smile still painted on her face.

Zoratto was no stranger to the flirtation of women, despite his apathy towards them. Dotharan women, when they came of age, were encouraged to pick the strongest, bravest warrior as their mate. Many had tried to seduce him, but they were all rejected. Some saw his behavior as strange, but ignored it. Others thought it suspicious, and well...look where that brought him.

He snorted, ignoring the woman, his attention firmly on the water. How water could be sweet he did not know, but compared to the salty sea, it must be sweet. The Dotharan lapped the cool water, his eyes half closed as he did so.

Had the male not been brought up by a mother alone, perhaps he would have taken the woman up on her offer. It was not his disinterest in the physique of most female bodies that kept him from being enticed by the stranger, but the fact alone that he'd been raised to have manners. To simply throw himself at another being of either sex wasn't the way in which he operated, nor was he even capable of doing so. A nod was offered, though, but it'd been meant for the first half of her sentence. Thereafter, he'd watched as Zoratto moved forward, the answer clearly having been enough for him to proceed. Without any negative reactions towards the liquid's taste having been noticed, the foreigner glanced back towards the Lady of the River.

"I don't believe that we can," he'd responded. "We're on our way somewhere." While there didn't exist for them a specific time at which they needed to arrive, Alastor was still interested in keeping the trek short. Should too much time be taken, he was sure that he'd turn tail once again and have to work the courage back up to approach.

Both males acted like Vixen wasn't standing right there being sexy and shit, and she felt her whole existence shift in a weird angle. She blinked at the grey man's response to her offer and stared as the other one lapped at the water without even glancing at her.

Why th' rush, matey? she asked lashing her tail invitingly, a last effort fearing that she might be pushed away from the conversation before even starting it.

Zoratto growled as he lifted his head from the cool spring. Havazh, poison water, bad for Dotharan. Taste bad. Dangerous. Leave quickly. He huffed, returning to his fresh water. How anyone could want to live by such disgusting liquid confused him.

Though her beauty could be seen by all, he was unable to feel any pull of attractive towards her. She was but another face to be looked upon, but not a wolf that he’d ever be capable of viewing as something beyond a friend. He remained as being unaffected by the way she moved her body, her words having been deemed as far more important. Especially so since she’d asked a question, which had then been answered by the masked boy. Towards @Zoratto had his gaze then been drawn, his impatience surprising, though the Greek understood the reason for why he spoke as he had.

Back to Vixen had he looked, expression touching on apologetic for the manner in which she’d been spoken to. “He does not like the sea, and I have a message that I must deliver to a pack,” was his version of the answer, voice smooth. He’d a thought thereafter, which had quickly morphed into an offer. “You may join us, if you’ve no interest in staying here alone,” Alastor told her. As soon as the last word had moved passed his lips, he’d glanced back over towards his friend, curious of what he’d think.

What little she could get about the masked one's explanation was expanded by the greyscale male. Apparently he didn't like the sea, the Dotharan wolf, but she wondered why he would even try to drink saltwater. You'd have to be dumb to try that.

Vixen stared, disarmed. Neither of the males seemed to grasp her intentions despite how loud her hips called for their attention. It was weird, not being looked at by a male as though she was just a piece of meat, a sexual toy, and something about it made her feel... Strange.

She was invited to accompany them, kindly spoken to by the grey man. She wanted to say no, why would she even follow two males that didn't even want to fuck with her? That was what she wanted, wasn't it? "I'll come," her brain spat out, though, despite how unwanted she'd felt by the masked one, against her fearful will. She felt tranquil with these two for some reason, and somewhere deep within was Claribel, a girl that yearned for an disinterested friendship.