The Sentinels and the malaprops make me wanna fucking scream

Onwards, and no sign of Dirge, yet. This place wasn't amenable at all. A fire some seasons ago had burned the place down, and life was just now beginning to spring up again, green among the wreckage. Oddly enough, it was much like the place where she had first met the brown-pelted man, although, judging by the amount of old, charred trunks about, it must have been more forested.

Lily felt some sadness as she weaved through the dead trees. It reminded her of the carnage back at Broken Boulder. Dead cats and their aroma everywhere, the pall of sickness hanging over the territory, sadness from the departures of Zamael, Steele, Vilkas. Vilkas. . .

She sat with a small whimper, trying not to think too hard on it. New beginnings. Wasn't that what she was out here for? She fixed her eyes firmly on a small sapling, bursting forth from the ground. That was what was most important, not the blackened landscape all around. It was a poignant metaphor. It may not do to stay here permanently, but the forest could give her one thing: a lesson.

pssst @Dirge

He scoured the deadwood once again, hoping that he would turn up some sign that Nyx had not completely departed the area. As the days drew out, so did his concern. It did not quite seem like her not to pop up somewhere, a watchful eye lurking in the background as she so often did, but to stay hidden for days on end? It seemed doubtful, for even as stealthy as she could be he had always been able to suss her out in time. Of course, it was less likely that she would range this close to the coast and he justified his being there as a means to give her space.

Cool air off the sea greeted him as he guided himself along the wreckage of the timber, the pockets of blackened wood mixing in with the foliage. This place was a usual haunt for a little bit of solitude, which as of late he could have had within the confines of the weald. But even then it was never meant to last as it had in the past—his eyes lighted on a dark figure ahead, but it was not Hydra he saw. His ears perked; Lily was not someone he had ever anticipated seeing again.

"Why so glum, little blackbird?"

The voice had her wheeling quickly around, the nickname ringing in her head like (albeit cheerful) alarm bells. Her eyes widened, and she rushed toward him, tail wagging like mad.

"Dirge!" Lily exclaimed, resisting the urge to fling herself into his embrace. She stopped just short of where he stood, maw cracked in a huge grin. "Goodness, I-- To be honest, I didn't think I'd find you! Not so soon, anyway." She flushed with delighted heat, a tinge of embarrassment to it, but stared him down all the same, surveying his rugged features.

"How are you?" she asked, quieter. "How has the sea treated you?" Quite well, she supposed, taking in the sight of him. Then again, he was one of those wolves who had always been handsome, and always would be handsome, to his dying day.

Her surprise to find him there seemed genuine, but that response earned a wave of his tail in muted happiness. Long had been the days where things had been more serious, be it his thoughts or simply the context derived from passing conversations. With the change of the season and Nyx's absence, it hadn't quite dawned on him how much of a distraction he needed. In the closed space between them, it was far too easy to draw in her scent and be reminded of their chance meeting; it bolstered the smile he had been keeping low key.

"As well as the sea can, even inland. It is rather beautiful, but also unforgiving. The season's coming to change soon," he mused, neck craning outward to mull over what he drew in on that seaboard air. She still admired him, he noted, unable to avoid that peculiar expression in the glimmer of her bright eyes. "I did not think you would come here, but perhaps the temptation finally won you over. What did you think of it, the sea?" And perhaps if that loosened her tongue, he would find what had left her so crestfallen moments ago.

It was good to hear his voice again, so rich and full. Manly. She took in the musky, masculine scent of him, a dreamy expression flitting over her face, before she realized he had asked her a question. If she were human, she would have blushed; instead, she cast her eyes through the barren trees, ears tipped forward to catch the near-distant sound of waves.

"I love it," Lily declared, voice hushed, reverential. She turned to look back at him, grinning. "It's so beautiful! I could stare at it all day." Then she remembered that she had turned down his previous invitation in order to look after Bracken Sanctuary. That had been one crisis, this was entirely another. Her countenance fell slightly as she continued.

"I'm out looking for a new home for my pack," she said. "There was a sickness, and cats--" The whole thing was so confusing to her; how would she ever explain it to a stranger? "Anyway, we need another place to live. And that's why I am out here, so far from where you first saw me."

Her gaze grew warm and liquid as she stared at him, an undeniable hunger in its depths. "I was looking for you, too," she added.

Cats? He hung on her exasperated note for a moment, wondering. The feline sort was certainly not to be trifled with and he was no stranger to their predatory existence. It had not been long ago that such a feline had stalked him through tall brush; he could see why such a thing was unsettling. And sickness to boot? How troublesome.

The thought of suggesting they come to the weald also crossed his mind, but he discarded it. It had been difficult to amass much of anything, so trying to sway an entire group seemed egoistical rather than confident. Besides, he reasoned, he needed a distraction. The quietude and frustration were exactly why he did not find himself safely within the confines of the thick forest. Meeting her gaze once again, he draw a wan smile to his face.

”Well, you've found me,” he murmured. He had hoped in some ways their paths would cross again. ”Seeing as I have nothing better to do, I suppose you have me at your disposal for now. Perhaps we could search along the coast for somewhere suitable for your pack?” Unless of course, she had better ideas.

She giggled, looking away, her ears swiveling toward the nearby rush of the waves. We could do, she remarked, her tone cheeky Among other things. Lily fixed her fiery gaze upon his face once more, drinking in the golden orbs of his eyes, the manly broadness of his visage. She could have lost herself in a swoon then and there and not cared a single bit.

Do you think about me, sometimes? she asked, lips slightly parted. If you looked closely, perhaps you could see stars in her widened pupils, dancing wildly in the dark void. A warm flush of heat raced through her as she thought of their last meeting, how. . .satisfactory it had been. Perhaps he was up for round two?

A rogue smile escaped him at among other things and it was somehow satisfying when so many things as of late had been less than satisfactory. Maybe it was reassurance that he needed more than distraction, but he would never admit to it. Instead a throaty hum was his only response as their conversation progressed, and he moved to usher them along in search of better scenes. It also gave him the appropriate time to consider a response to her question, because every knavish creature had to pluck worthwhile words from thin air.

Nothing too extravagant though, just enough to whet an appetite.

”I'm sure you've crossed my mind a time or two, certainly when there is little else to worry myself with,” he said as he passed her, this time a teasing smile to flit across his muzzle—she could take the meaning of worry how she wanted. ”I'd ask the same of you, but clearly you have as you came looking for me,” and how easily things went to suggestive content, he was willing to wager she thought about him more than he had her.

”You seem to have been doing well for yourself, though.” No worse for wear really, not all raw bones over frame and a mockery of her summery self. ”I'm surprised you've come all this way on your own even, I'd half-expected you to have some knight in shining armor at your heels.” But perhaps things were truly that bad at her pack, or she had simply not settled. Or maybe, she had just opted to sneak away from beneath a watchful eye. Probably not the latter, but it was entertainment nonetheless.

word count: 277

Not a very satisfactory answer--her lips pulled tight in a pouting frown before loosening again, something unnamed in the depths of her eyes. Still, she couldn't begrudge him other worries. Hadn't she taken comfort in Vilkas' embrace, and then Barracuda's? She would be a hypocrite if she held him to lofty standards to which she failed to hold herself.

You were on the agenda, yes, Lily said coyly, trying to match his casual tone, despite the pique she now felt. More important was finding my friends a new home. The next remark of his made it worse. If Lily were a more temperamental sort, she would have stormed off then and there. Fortunately for their relationship, she managed to take it all in stride.

I traveled much farther than this by myself before, she expained, brows lifting as she gave him a long look. No knights in shining armor needed. Unless you're willing. Khali came suddenly to mind, and she wasn't feeling this much anymore.

At least she had her priorities in order. The pout hadn't gone unnoticed, but it was far from the first time he had ever made an unsatisfactory remark. May as well have gone in line with the long list of other unsatisfactory things he had done in the record books of others, as he had never bothered to keep track. It did not deter him from his mark, nor detract from listening to what else she had to say. A pleasurable note lodged in his note to her parting statement, the smile still set to his face.

”Well, I do like a woman who knows what she is after and capable of getting it,” he rejoined, ”so what sort of territory were you looking for? Obviously something that will keep you and yours safe from further harm, preferably sustainable. Are they the picky sort on a view? The coast has much to offer and I might know a place or two to look. Wouldn't recommend being right on the sea though,” because other than the crashing tide and pitfalls galore beaches offered, they were also lacking on fresh water. Lessons learned there, not that he was going to let on.

word count: 200

Anything is better than what we currently have, Lily responded, her annoyance fading with each word. She mulled over the options he presented her, trying to keep Seabreeze's suggestions in mind as well. Somewhere with fresh water and plenty of game. We have plenty of pups to feed. And. . .

Another thought rose suddenly in her mind, and she met his gaze dead-on (though the slow swivel of her ears detracted from this directness). What are your plans, Dirge? she asked softly. Winter is almost here; it won't do to be out all by yourself.

She knew full well that she could not control this playboy, no matter how hard she tried. Perhaps she didn't want to. Her optimism had plummeted into something more realistic; what had started out as a pie-in-the-sky crush was now, well. . .the pie had fallen to the ground, landing top-down. Dick fever, she supposed. She'd heard about that particular phenomenon once or twice.

But Lily had undoubtedly grown fond of the man, even if just as a friend, and she didn't want to see him suffer through the cold alone. Why not invite him back to live with her at the Sanctuary, wherever it ended up next?

In truth he hadn't put much thought into what he planned do for the winter. There were plenty of half-buried hopes he had left strewn somewhere in the marsh and mud of the coast, and at one point he had thought the winter feasible with Nyx. But that had escaped him now and with the northern winds riding down to force the season along, he certainly found himself in a predicament he had been in before. There were options no doubt, plenty of them if he wanted to sit and count them, but as it were and said before, he hadn't. Yet.

He considered for a moment saying that it all had been squared away and she needn't worry about him, but the courage to lie was about as flimsy as his halfhearted attempts at conversation. His usual charms had failed him; the best he could muster even now was a considering murmur in his throat, the lie that he was deliberating even now.

”I've kept my options open thus far,” he decided on, before turning honest, ”but I haven't thought much of them yet. The snows haven't forced my hand yet.” For as much as he avoided pitfalls, he certainly did not seem to mind riding the perpetual edge of them. Having spent most of the year fending only for himself, he hadn't fallen into some trap or almost perished from ill-adjusted decisions. He was lucky, or positively stupid. Perhaps both.

”It does please me that you've concerns though,” he went on, as though smoldering tones would change the sobering air that had drawn her out. ”It is nice that someone would care,” as though no one had until this point, however childish the notion was. He waved it away as he did many things with the sway of his tail at his hocks as he ushered her eastward. For all the distractions he desired, he would not entirely force things in his favor—it wouldn't have been very upstanding of him.

”What about a forest? There's one a ways from here, but if I do recall a river snakes through it. Nothing too major, just a fair stream. The sloping valley and mountains shelter it, lets it stay tucked away in my opinion,” and it certainly helped that the pack that had been forming there in the spring had skirted away to elsewhere. He also knew it to be some distance off and hastily thought to tie it in with a lengthier, selfish distraction.

”We could make a day trip of it,” he suggested.

word count: 425

She was tired of games. Tired--she wanted to go home, all of a sudden. And not just back home, but back to a better time, when things had been easier. When they'd been flirting for the first time, just a guy and a girl and playful banter. Lily didn't know if she would ever feel that carefree again.

Perhaps, she said halfheartedly, falling into step beside him. I shouldn't be away too much longer. And there are places I've not yet seen, to the north of the mountains. . . The blackbird lapsed into silence, then, gaze fixed pensively on the path ahead of them.

Finally, after a few beats that may or may not have been awkward, she looked over at him. Look, I've been thinking about you a lot, and it's obvious that you don't feel the same way, Lily said, her voice more matter-of-fact than anything else. If you need a place to stay for the winter, you should come to us. Otherwise. . .

She stopped, exhaling slowly, carefully. I should probably go, Lily ended lamely, unable to meet his gaze directly.

He knew from the moment her words began to trail off that she too would seek a swift escape from him. If there were ever a notion that it pained him, it flickered by in his gaze just as quick as it had come, swept away by the mirroring shift of his gaze to their surroundings. Perhaps this was why Nyx had spared him a goodbye, no longer able to temper tolerance for the ebb and flow of him—but that was a very bitter thought, and very bitter thoughts were ill-suited to keep as company.

They did not however spare him from a stiffening posture that rendered him silent. Where there should have been words, even simple ones assuring her that he did not intend to lead her astray and that their trip would take them back the way she had come, he could not find them. It was unlike him, who up until recently had been more surefooted in the art of conversation. Her parting words drew his attention keenly; her voice was hushed to the suddenly so loud ambiance and he found that she could not look on him any longer.

Never mind the offer she had extended to him—the lack of confidence now burned him worse.

”As you were then,” he found himself saying, almost absently. ”Safe travels, little blackbird.” The scene there forward unfolded swift and sure, perhaps even childishly in the way he decided to start off without her inland. Of all the things that were currently not going in his favor, he had not anticipated adding another entry to the list so soon, let alone feel the accompaniment of foolishness begin to sting at his cheeks. So off he went, beating a hasty retreat not unlike the many he had performed before.

Her heart lodged in her throat as he spoke, and she opened her mouth to reply--but no words would come. She felt as though some force beyond her control was tearing her in two. Tears stung the corners of her eyes as she turned away, his parting remark ringing in her ears. Maybe it would always be there, ringing, until she died.

There were things to do, places to go. She wouldn't let herself grieve for long. Bracken Sanctuary depended on her; she couldn't get sidetracked by personal problems. She wouldn't.

Firming her chin, Lily strode on. Stiff upper lip.