Redsand Canyon The balance in me split by three

Setting: Evening — 1934.
Weather: 65F — sunset, clear skies.
Location: Warrior’s Heart — near Derg’s den.
Tags: @Derg

Being vague on what Derg’s den looks like cause ya LOL

Donovan has been pacing about the day, restless. He wants to speak with Derg, tell him of his true name. He almost believes Derg is the only one he can truly trust. For now anyhow. 

He wastes no time retreating to Warriors Heart from his trek of the borders, renewing his scent. He’s padding over to his den, looking about quizzically. “Derg?” He calls out into the den. Whether he’s in there or not, surely he could look around for the man.

Donovan was lucky.
Derg had just woken up from his early evening nap before his night patrol.
He yawned, and his name carried to him. From the Grandmaster.
He looked out at the dusk sky, soon blotted by the brindle behemoth.

"Grandmaster," he replies smoothly.
Has he come for round two? Probably not. He didn't have that seductive glance about him. What's got him worried? That Hemlocke Derg was still suspicious of? Or was something even graver afoot?

The male comes to sit before his Overseer. He gives a huff of a laugh and shrugs casually. “Thought, I’d tell you a little something about me.” He hums with an interested smile, even though his eyes are speckled with caution. 

“I’ll just make it simple. Uhh, Donovan Azura is not my real name. I feel like you’re the only one I can trust right now with this information.” He drops the bombshell. It’s probably not surprising. He doesn’t know why he’s decided to continue using his fake name in the first place. No one knows him here, that so much is clear.

“Real name’s Kynareth Deagon.” He offers casually. A borderline goofy smile in his maw. Almost bashful at offering his true name.

He sat down. Well, that was a bad sign.
Derg sat up, concern etching his face. Had someone died? Was there an army coming? Were they moving?

But something about himself? Did he hate that night? Shit.
But no. No, it was stranger than that.
Derg's brows furrowed. Why would he lie like that?
He just grunted in response, accompanied by a soft, disbelieving, "Fuck."

He watched Donovan -- Kynareth -- for a few moments.
He seemed so fucking pleased with himself.
Derg stood, watching the man levelly.
"So you lied, hm? What'd you rope us all into this pack for?"

He expected and didn’t expect the reaction he gets from the scarred male. Donovan is flicking his ears back momentarily at the roughness in the other tone. Not out of irritation, more like a nervous tick.

His eyes fall momentarily, like he’s being scolded by his mother. Them meet Derg’s confidently not even half a second later. “I did.” Confirming the truth of him lying. “I didn’t think using my true name was a good idea in a stranger land. Until I knew no one here was from my homeland.”

He huffs our a breath, confused by his question. “My views on the pack or my outlook haven’t changed. My name is the only thing I’ve lied about to you, peaches.” 

He could help but think he looked like little Xizur being told off for biting Tizir too hard.
But his confidence once again brims, which was fine. Just fine.

"Fair enough," he replied. Yeah, Derg understood it. But Derg also didn't give a shit and hide his identity like some pussy. He thought Donovan had some fucking nobility or confidence but no he was just hiding behind a false fucking name.
He didn't let his...misery? Anger? Whatever it was, show.

"I'm glad you founded this with yourself, not on whatever fakery Donovan Azura was."
He stared at Donovan. Was this the start of the end? They'd need to tell the pack, it may be an advantage. To have Donovan with a new name, and the Saints with a new fake name.

He thinks Derg is mad at him. The aura is just a bit tense. Or perhaps that’s just Donovan. Anyhow he’s nodding softly. “I did. The rest is true.”

Then he’s smiling slyly, inching closer to the other male. In an attempt to lick and nuzzle at the spot just under his jaw. He hums softly, almost suggestively into the fur there. “Don’t kill me in my sleep, peaches.“ He chuckles slightly.

He wished he was told sooner.
Not just another pawn in these works.
Did Nemisis know? Did he trust her with his name?
He was a bit pissed, but what could he do? He was in this bitch to survive, not just succumb to the hand he's been dealt.

"I would do it in a much classier way," he replied smoothly.
A smirk hinting at his lips as Donovan tried to make him feel better.
But sex wasn't on his agenda.
Not with Donovan-Kynareth Deagon.

Donovan pulls his head back with a teasing smile. “Oh? Then how would ya do it? I almost wanna know.” He hums with obvious interest. 

Though behind the jest, Donovan even dares to care about what Derg thinks. As his equal, his Overseer, his other half that helps run this pack. He values his opinion.

He seemed more interested than one should be about how another would kill them.
A suicidal trait perhaps.
He hummed softly, the smirk deepening to match his smile.
Should he really indulge him so truthfully?

"It would be brutal, my dear." He started off slow, just in case Donovan didn't actually want to hear this. So he had a chance to shut him up.
"I would have to fight you, you wouldn't go easily," Derg almost purred the words into his lover's ears. Was he sadistic?

"Unless I was careful. And I did it when you never expected it. Perhaps a pack meeting," a soft smile, "where everyone will watch."
Was he deranged?

"Or I could wrangle you down onto the ground and do it how you wish. I don't know yet," was he enjoying this too much?
All he could think of was him launching at Donovan and his teeth snapping through the Grandmaster's skull.
He stopped smiling, looking away. He must look fucking crazy. He felt it. His jaw wobbled slightly. What if he'd been killed? That blonde bitch that tore open his poor face.

Kynareth is at first only interested in what he’s about to say. Then a deep him the practically reverberates through the brindle man’s coat has him furrowing his brows in serious interest. No fury has come to his expression, for his grin remains. No, this is something different — lust, want, need, desire — for the man before him. Golden hues look as if he wants to eat him, not in a particularly gory way, but one of mind rattling pleasure.

The whispers of death in his ear. Promises of the pack watching as the most capable Overseer claims his place as Grandmaster. It would be delightful and he just barely snaps from his trance. Noticing the other looking away. 

Nothing about Derg or his mannerisms disgusted or turned him off. All he wanted to do was pounce him. “Hell, peaches, I might just let you. But that wouldn’t be fun would it?” Be practically growls out under neath his breath. Lust obscenely obvious as he eyes him down like Derg’s the finest thing around.

A half smile.
He shouldn't joke about this. This wasn't something...he should be comfortable with.
And here was Donovan calling it fun.

Bastard.

His lips pursed together again, looking past the man out of the den.
He wanted to leave, but instead, the brindle male lounged before him, so calm.
Derg could kill him right here, he supposed.
No.

"I need to go on patrol," he tried to excuse himself quickly. He wanted to get away sharpish.

The smile Derg feeds him isn’t as bright as most, it’s different from the one he gave him only moments before. Yet, even as Donovan’s obvious attempt to steer the conversation into a naughtier conversation that would hopefully lead to something else. The male is confessing that he must go in his daily patrol.

Odd, but perhaps Derg just doesn’t like to speak of killing the Grandmaster like a normal wolf — even if Don thinks it’s funny. He’ll have mercy on Derg today. He won’t question, he won’t ask, he’ll just let him escape. This time at least.

So he nods to Derg, a casual, calm movement. A charming smile and Kynareth is standing up and moving out of his space. Up and out of his den so Derg can get around him. “Not a problem, peaches. Have fun on your patrol then.” He hums almost sweetly, moving to briefly lap at his muzzle.

He let the passing kiss land, leaning into it softly.
He didn't really want this. Not with Donovan.
He was all lust...he wouldn't have him solely. And he wouldn't get attached.
He just wanted the feeling.

"I will," he replied with a quick smile and slipped away before he could get caught.