Ravensblood Forest Late At Night

Setting: Night — 23:00. 72 degrees — clear skies, slightly windy.

@Derg

Donovan is plagued with thought that continue to make his restless. So wordlessly and silently, he stands from his spot on the mossy ground of the Saints Den. The eroded holes into he ceiling of the open mouthed cave shine beautiful beams of blue-white light through. He’s takes a second to stare at it and finally being pawing out of the den. Passing under the great arch outside, he sighs. Now he will wander aimlessly.

Derg lay awake.
One night of countless others his hazel eyes stared into the dimness around him.
Often it was cold, but tonight he was warm, and his bed soft.
They were going to move, they could be attacked.
Those thoughts weren't the ones plaguing him though.

It was Keen.
His beautiful, young ward that was lost to him. She could be anywhere. Did she still carry Stanley? Did her scars pain her to this day? Had the silver brute found her again and finished the job?
He huffed, standing in time t hear a soft shuffling leaving the den area.

He quietly followed, not meaning to be stealthy.
Moonlight dappled the ground, and by the arch, he could see Donovan's surly form moving into the forest.
Derg trotted after him, footsteps quiet and light.

As the striped male languidly makes his way away from the den, it’s not soon after he passes the stone arch does he hear the padding of steps behind him. They shuffle in the debris of the forest floor and for a moment he doesn’t even turn to see who it is. A fair two or threes seconds go by with his ears swiveled back, obviously listening to whoever is there but for some reason deciding not to look.

Finally he turns his head slowly, almost owlishly, the canary yellow of his eyes settle on Derg and without even having to force it, a smile comes to his face. He looks forward just as quickly as he looked behind him and laughs. It’s a quiet sound that seems like no effort is put into it. Soon enough, Donovan’s deep voice is cutting through the tantalizing silence of the nighttime air.

“Hey peaches.” He greets lowly. “Come to join me on my walk? I could use some company.” 

For a few moments, Derg didn't think Donovan had heard him and seriously considered launching an attack; playfully of course, but he knew it would startle and possibly panic the man.
But before he could make the wrong decision, he was acknowledged and he dipped his head. 

He sidled up beside Donovan, softly touching his muzzle to his shoulder.
His voice cut through the night, and Derg nodded.
"I think I will," he replied quietly. 
A nighttime walk would be nice.

AAHHH Derg is cute af :’>

Upon acknowledging the other, Derg steps in beside him, giving a quick touch to his shoulder. At the movement Donovan graces him with eye contact and smirks. “Can’t sleep? I know I can’t. I’m bored too.”

Donovan veers into the chocolate wolf’s lane and bumps shoulders with him. “If you’re not too tired would you like to spar?” The question is almost shy, quiet enough not to have his booming voice sound all throughout the forest.

Derg shook his head. No, sleeping wasn't going to come to him tonight.
He was glad the man was up though. Perhaps a walk would tire him out enough.

Though his spar offer was unexpected. He half wondered if the man thought if Derg could even fight. Well, maybe because of his face, but perhaps not, because of his face. A fighter and aa victim can get scars like his.
And thinking of it, Derg hasn't fought since he'd fought the blonde woman.
"Sure." He replied, his voice quiet too.

Donovan laughs. “Good, I would’ve had to fight you even if you said no.” The man jests and begins speeding up into a trot. “Follow me.”

Assuming the man follows close behind, Donovan leads him to the giant tree that has surely say in the middle of this forest for ages. The limbs are worn, jutting out like tendrils in every direction. “This is it.”

Stopping to gaze at the magnificent sight, he finally turns towards Derg with the most devilish smile. “Game on, peaches.” He practically growls. Paws thump agains the ground as Donovan barrels towards him. Surely only halfway catching him off guard as his massive head comes to hit Derg in the shoulder. Not too hard but just enough to knock Derg back ways a little bit.

He let out a short breath of laugh.
Yeah, he knew it'd happen anyway from what Finley had been saying.

He was brought to a tree. A very big tree that demanded space around it. 
It's branches spread above it, letting only tiny spools of light spill from the heavens.
His tail waved softly as he stared at the tree's seeping bark, a deep orange in this light.
"Beaut-" he started, but then Donovan headbutted him.
He really wasn't paying attention.

He swung his rump away, a soft growl. Then he remembered that it was Donovan. But they were sparring.
But Derg didn't want to hurt him.
His ears slicked back and he became active. Lowering his head, tucking his tail, stalking Donovan, looking for a weakness.
He stared intently at the man before launching, going for his leg to pull it out.

Roll!

Donovan feels a little bit bad for catching the poor guy off guard. Yet he too can’t help the chuckle that bubbles past his lips. Then all of a sudden the male is on x games mode, stalking towards him a dangerous look in his eye and all Donovan can do is raise his brows at him.

“I like that look on you, Derg. You look quite fearsome.” Is all he gets out before he’s running towards the striped male and going for his legs. Typical. He’s used to his legs begun targeted because of his size, but it still doesn’t mean it doesn’t effect him. So this time it’s a double negative. Well, a double positive for Derg. For he’s able to get Donovan off balance by going for his leg and due to this, Donovan misses his bite towards the other wolf’s ear. With multiple failures, he’s vulnerable to attacks.

He wasn't sure if it was a compliment, but it was Donovan and surely it was.
His attack seemed to his well enough, for Donovan was unbalanced enough to miss snapping up an ear.
Which was also probably helped by it being cropped, but he didn't care right now.

He went for the man's scruff, snapping at it to take hold of it and pin the man, alas Derg couldn't get a good grip from his position practically under the man, and he didn't have the weight to just flip him over, so he was open for an attack at the time.
Would he move quick enough to avoid it?

Roll!

Donovan opens his mouth in silent exclamation as teeth snap at his throat, just hardly missing and a sinister smile breaks out onto his face. In a swift movement, he swoops down to grab a hold of a back leg. His teeth digging into his ankle enough to leave bruises but hopefully no blood. Lifting the males leg into the air he kicks out his remaining back leg and with a final shove sees the male knock over onto his side. The same move he performed on Finley in their earlier spar this day.

When the male is on the ground Donovan attempts to cage him in with strong forearms and wrap his teeth up in that sweet coffee colored fur of his. Yet his attempt ends in failure.

Derg was flipped over, rolled and stood over.
He could feel his loins curdle, flare with heat.
Being pushed over and held by this man, the closeness of their bodies.

However, he couldn't savour the moment, because he was trying to latch onto him, so Derg snapped ferociously at him, helping the finality at bay.
He couldn't catch the swaying, evasive muzzle, but he could kick.

And so he did. Derg kicked up into Donovan's gut, hopefully catching him off guard enough to escape his clutches.

His smirk is ever present as the male beneath him snaps viciously up towards his face. The audible click of his teeth gnashing together sends chills down Donovan’s spine and a friendly growl to slip past his lips. The next thing Donovan feels like releasing is his dinner. When the strong legs of the young warrior meet his abdomen he instantly regrets gorging himself on an entire rabbit (and a half of another one). Nearly digested apparently isn’t enough and a huff of breath chokes up from his lungs and his gag reflex kicks in. Immediately retreating off of Derg, he walks a few paces away and completely empties his stomach into the forest floor. The hair along his spine raises and he’s haunched over making the most incredulous gaging sounds.

After throwing up a few good times he continues hanging his head low, muzzle snarling up at the smell of his own vomit. Drool drips from his open mouth and tongue. The fur of his chin is also assaulted by saliva as it falls down and off of his chin in stringy globs as well. He gives a breathy chuckle and tilts his head in Dergs direction. “Shouldn’t have eaten that much. My bad, peaches.” Though the smile he holds is still lively one can see the queasiness in his expressions.

For a moment, Donovan seemed almost pleased that Derg was being so vigilant.
The next, he was lurching away and throwing up heavily.

Derg twisted, righting himself. Fuck.
He stood, almost shocked. Distraught.
He'd hurt him. He did this to him. He would hate him.
Derg quickly approached, just after Donovan had finished emptying his stomach, low to the ground and a worried look coating his expression.
He softly touched his nose to the man's cheek, wondering if he'd be snapped at for doing such a thing.

Though he didn't seem too bothered, a soft chuckle, the nickname -- peaches -- did he really not hate him for it?
"I'm sorry," he replied quietly, almost afraid to speak. He wished he hadn't let himself spar now.

The vomit glistening off the sickly blue light of the moon, his horrid gagging noises, and a worrisome Derg. What a night. The worry that the male displayed caught his attention but he was too busy dry heaving to say anything. Then the featherlight tough of a nose on his cheek and Donovan continues on like he never even threw up (kind of).

Hearing the other apologize and the seriously concerned face of the man next to him he chuckles again. Shaking himself off, bits of drool fly everywhere and he’s obnoxiously smacking his lips together and cringing at the taste of vomit. An onyx tongue flicks over lips and he shrugs. “Wasn’t your fault. We were sparing.” He hums shaking off one more time and then turning to meet his gaze with a chortle. “You kicked me in just the right way to make all my food come up. Let’s go find some water this shit tastes disgusting.” He mumbles the last sentence as he kicks dirt over the pile of vomit.

As he starts walking, Donovan keeps a yellow eye on Derg to make sure he follows and doesn’t run away because he thinks he’s done bad. “Don’t worry about it peaches.” He comforts once more and continues. “I was sparing with an old friend of mine and he accidentally got a tooth in my eye. I was blind for two weeks while it healed. Not sure if that makes you feel better, but yeah.” He says casually. His attempt to lesson Derg’s guilts hopefully worked well enough but he’s not quite sure exactly how well it will work.

Donovan tried to reassure him, but Derg didn't feel much better.
Perhaps he shouldn't've kicked so hard, but Donovan wanted it. Right?
Well, maybe not the throwing up but he wanted to be shown Derg can fight.

He nodded. He wanted some water too. He felt sick for what he did, but it was probably because of the smell.
He followed at the man's side, hoping he was gonna be ok. He really hoped he hadn't seriously hurt him, though these thoughts were just him being paranoid.
Derg laughed softly at the man's story. A very soft trickle of joy, quickly covered again by guilt.
"That sucks," he replied in his soft, wispy tone again.

Donovan smiles at the soft tone and he can just tell that he’s still not over making Donovan throw his guts up. Rolling his eyes he looks to him. “You know what else sucks?” He asks with a shit-eating grin. “That fact that you still feel bad. I’m gonna have to beat your ass again, huh?”

With those words and a wide toothy smirk, he bumps his shoulder into Derg’s own. His mouth closing in on his scruff and giving it a playful shake and a tug and he’s off of him again in now time. Trotting ahead he looks back to him and releases himself into a gallop and then a sprint. “Come on Derg, lets get the blood pumpin’!”

Hopefully they’ll run into water. He’s starting to get a severe case of cotton mouth.

Should Derg feel ashamed? Nah, his worries were well-founded.
He pulled a face at Donovan at his comment. 
He wanted to say that he'd just beat his again, but refrained from doing so should Donovan initiate another fight and throw up again.

Though he still came at him, gently tugging on his scruff, making Derg bear his teeth at the man, slowly swinging them towards him to feint an attack.
But his mood seemed to swing into full blown energy. Derg didn't know if he could be bothered, but Donovan seemed to really want to.
Derg chased after the man, snapping at Donovan's tail.

The pair chased each other ​until they splashed into the water and romped around for a bit, completely soaking each other. And at long last in the deep of night, they headed back to the dens to try sleeping again.