Emberwood If text kisses were real kisses, the world would be an orgy

Open to any UG wolf!

Following Bhediya was fruitless, now. She had shown her true colors by helping Grayday's son. All Pygmalion could do now was wait for the sweet smell of her heat to come down upon the Emberwood, and stake his own claim in her heart. Woo her successfully and she may never think of the man again.

But everything would have to go just right. And nothing at all had gone right for Pygmalion, lately.

He prowled the border a little anxiously, half-looking for intruders, half-looking for traitors from the inside. Besides Lolita, no one here could be truly trusted. God, imagine if Sunny had come home with them—he'd have to kill the boy.

Ha! No, not kill. But certainly a stern talking to. Keep your cock to yourself, lad. . . Pyg chuckled softly at the thought, rolling his eyes. 

Best to pour his energy into Uaine Gorsedd, and wait for the heat.

If one were to think that K would become acclimated to the cold weather and would eventually graduate from the bore of whining about it, they'd be a fool. While he had become more adept at shivering or otherwise working his muscles to counteract the chill, the way the snow stuck to him as he walked was irritating enough. Gods, how he wished for nothing more than to curl into a group cuddle session and melt away the freezing air.

He strode along the edges of Emberwood with a stubbornly-cheerful bounce in his step, hoping that perhaps he could combat the cold out of sheer, joyful spite. K knew that until he became more accustomed to his potential role acting on expeditions, his presence along the borders were a great deterrent for the opportunistic malicious force. Though not a total tank of brute force, Kukulkan's build alone could be imposing enough.

Ha! Kukulkan, imposing. What a thought.

Around the bend, he weaved through a small cluster of trees, bracing himself against each trunk as he passed them before turning the corner to find a white beast approaching from the opposite direction. The distinct Uaine Gorsedd scent was obvious, marking him a friend, though Kukulkan swore there was some faint hint of something else, something familiar.

Regardless, his maw split wide with a crooked grin and barked out a boisterous "Heyo there, run into any fuckers 'round these parts?" He wasn't one to directly seek violence, though K was quite eager for the chance to prove himself.

"I ain't sure we met b'fore," Striding up to close the distance, he'd offer a casual dip of the head along with a short chuckle, "Who might y'be?" A yard or two short, K would stop and tilt his head to the side, a quick click of his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Oh, how eager he was to meet new friends.

@Pygmalion

The man that approached was vaguely familiar, though Pygmalion hadn't seen him in a while. He'd been present at the founding howl, to Pyg's recollection. The scent of Bhediya upon his pelt was slightly disconcerting—but he reminded himself that his mate was leadership, duty-bound to welcome all into the fold of Uaine Gorsedd. Not a cause for concern (yet?).

Seems to be a fucker-free zone here, Pyg replied, then added, with a boyish, bawdy smirk, for now, at least. Aye, I dinna think we did ever meet. I'm Pygmalion—and you? I remember ye from when the pack was newer.

So often wolves came and went in groups not connected by blood, but this pack seemed fairly stable. Not many had disappeared, and far more had stayed since its inception. They had created their own little family here in the Emberwood, lack of blood ties be damned. That was good.

"Ah yeah, tha' was a while 'go, heh," An awkward shrug at the reminder, knowing that he should have been here for Ibis during those formative times. And where had he gone? On a fruitless, aimless mission fueled by nothing other than folly. "I done gone out fer a li'l 'mission' I guess, jus' came back in las' week 'r so." Felt like so much longer, to be honest.

How time stood still when ambitions fell stagnant, waiting.

"I'ma Kukulkan, come from th' far southa here. Can't say I'ma big fan 'f this fuckin' snow an' shit, don't know how y'all tolerate these winters." Dramatically lifting his forepaw, as though he'd stepped in something foul, the Ovate grumbled jokingly under his breath as he shook it and set it back down. "Much more partial t'the swamps an' jungles, where yer main worries are fuckin' gators or brushin' up against th'wrong plant er something." At least down to the south, the standard clime did not kill you, only the beasts that dwelt within.

Tilting his head to the side, curiosity his curse, he'd chime "Ever been anywhere else, away from 'ere?"
Expansion was key to learning, and learning was key to growth, to strength, to power. And there was so much K wanted to learn.

@Pygmalion

Pyg nodded, understanding. This man was built like someone who relished travel; if he was a scout, like Bhediya, it would make sense that he'd go off on long voyages. Still, he hoped that his mate did not take up the habit. Pygmalion wouldn't be able to bear it if she disappeared for a while.

Ah, I'm the opposite of ye, he responded after Kukulkan had finished speaking, grinning. Come from the verra far north, where there's nay but snow and ice. Swamps are not much tae my likin'. Despite their very different origins, they both harbored strong accents. He felt a kinship with Kukulkan for that.

He nodded briefly in response to the other's question, lifting his shoulders in a brief shrug to amend the gesture. Kind of. Saw a lot on the way doon here, Pygmalion explained. But beyond the road betwixt the north and this place, I havena done much travelin'. I hope to, someday—but I'm nay getting any younger. 

Pyg gave the man a kind look. What aboot yerself, then?