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@Vigilante <3

he departed grimnismal that morning at a stately clip, seeking out the birdsong that filtered from farther inland. mahler's travels took no particular route; he set the sea at his back and lengthened his stride until its roar was dulled by distance. 
the wind was cold, and raked icy fingertips along the man's variegated hide; he grunted and sought shelter from the winterbite in a gorge, its pathway a gentle downward slope. while snowfall still clung to its crags and floor, he drew in the mossy scent of rich green beneath the white. in time, this place too would bloom beneath the sun's touch.
mahler hummed some lengthy snippet of what he had been composing, attention momentarily diverted by a courting pair of chickadees, black-and-white caps aflash as they twirled and twittered to one another.

Instead of nursing a presumably bruised ego, Vigilante had taken instead to the proactive responsibility of plotting. At first he had examined the coast with a wide girth, finding the edges of the grotto pack and at length carrying a torch for the appearance of the grotto gargoyle. He looked, but did not find, unaware that the brute wouldn't often stray far from his swelling pot of riches. It wasn't too long before his patience had worn thin and the marauder ambled away from the subduing, brine-winds, in an effort to clear his head.

It was fate that he would catch the scent of the pack he pined for far and away from its fortress, nearing the pit of a ravine. He was familiar with such trenches, having been born in one himself, but he paid little mind to the territory ahead, and focused instead on the wolf that had drawn him this way.

It was a male, not the first, but just as  impressive. This one was young and soot-furred, with pale cinders ruffling his nape and an ease to his gait that belied confidence. Vigilante, who preferred the ungentle company of other ungentle males, made to find out if he approached a wolf he could interact with or with a wolf who'd be too intimidated to play. He chuffed to give away his position, and then held back—with an evenhanded posture and a nose quivering interestedly—to first see how the wolf would react to his presence.

edit: click here! no need to use; i've just been experimenting with gimp :D

mahler soon realized he had grown accustomed to his fellows roundabout, and thus was steadfast in his backswept ears' perusal of the landscape at his back. the snowcrunching tread of another pulled the musiker from the birds; he looked back along one ash-stippled shoulder at the stranger who made a light sound in his throat.
the birds followed one another from the gorge; mahler monitored their departure with one dark aud, before positioning them both in the other's direction. the hard lilac of his gaze remained implacable to their depths, but he turned on legs just touched with a wary stiffness, and held his plume just above his hocks; affable to the approach of the other wolf if he so wished.
from this distance, mahler could make out the charcoal and sable hues of the man's pelt, the pride in his stance, the feral young that melded itself with strong limbs. and putting aside the edict of their kind for a scant moment, the stippled brute too glanced into the sharp flaxen eyes set like gleaming stones in the dark mask. 
uttering a guttural warble in return, mahler paused to anticipate the response of the stranger.

Though met with caution, as to be expected, Vigilante found the male more receptive to his presence than the grotto-wolves from before. He attributed this softening to a distance from the coast— from the wolf's support system— but the lone bandit knew immediately that he would not lose this opening to his own bravado; an idea that begot the scheme of gentler courtship.

For the barest of seconds their eyes meet: champagne and lavender. Upon finding no hostility neither on his face or in his body language, Vigilante ducked his head and padded forward. Seeking physical contact and encouraging a sense of friendliness— without the thought of exposing his own throat or underside— he intended to meet the male with a well-meaning headbutt on his broad, pewter-black shoulder.

*fawns over* You're amazing <3 Thank you!

<3!

mahler felt a glissade of tension at the other's approach, his broad stride and the blonde underlights of the dark pelt holding the light. but the musiker understood they were well-met; he swept back sable ears and gave a soft chuff as the stranger nudged him gently. there was not the scent of wolves wreathed through the other's guard hairs; he was alone, and mahler had no way to know that this creature had been turned away from his own coastline.
taking the other's breath in return, the dappled wolf drew back to consider the hale features. "mahler," he offered in his usual brusque tone, though there could be said this time the element of curiosity was more present in his accented tones. the stone of his lilac eyes studied the other as mahler waited for a rejoinder; here was interest, here was music.

Vigilante, glad for the absence of teeth digging into his nape, grated his skull smooth and cat-like across the splay of the virtuoso's shoulder. Their bodies parted, noses twitching eagerly as they lingered near to absorb what they could of the other. Vigilante relaxed further, satisfied now that he wouldn't be physically reprimanded for his audacity. Unlike his strapping counterpart, the black dragoon heard no music. He heard only his own heart and the excited thrumming therewith. He saw only potential; devouring his company like a starved reader. And he fe felt only his hot blood, coursing as he faced a potential challenge— a potential.. other.

There was no room in his head to account for the music of birds.

He flashed his tongue at Mahler's introduction, grazing the foreigner's chin appreciatively. "Vigilante," he returned languorously, tail arching into a light wag. He wanted nothing more than to spar with Mahler— to dominate him if he could— but the vandal knew better than to think he'd be trusted in that way already. First, he must appeal to a baser desire.

"Hunt with me?"

mahler was unused to one so close, let alone a hale man with visible strength who sought the musiker's own touch and deferred with a nudge beneath his jaw. unsure if he enjoyed such ministrations, mahler bore them affably all the same, returning the stranger's plume-wave with one of his own. vigilante. it was a fitting title for the proud stallion of a wolf before him, and mahler took in the pleasant details of the other man for another moment before nodding.
as he had done with kierkgaard, with lycaon, mahler moved to vigilante's flank, passing his tongue across dark lips and glancing toward the wolf he had made their leader hunter. the dappled beast had little interest in leading a chase, but would follow, his rangy stride and muscular build a well-formed vanguard. 
mahler allowed himself to experience the stirrings of a primal elation in his heart, perhaps from the haptic language of wolfkind that vigilante had spoken to him. presently, he wished to bring them together in contact again, but reined in such odd desires — he had foregone touch these many years, and it would not hurt him to do so again.