Northstar Vale [m] I know you don't have any other plans

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Reverie slipped through the vale under the cover of night, on the hunt. Not for prey this time but a gift. Something for Dusty Rose — something better than the small gifts she typically brought him.

She just wasn't sure what yet. Surely it would come to her in time.

The moon would forever whisper his name on the wind, but a fire screamed for him.

It is not so long after he'd met the flame that he followed her path. Her face was now etched into his mind. Her fleeting sent guiding him away from home, to mountains anew.

Now, so long after losing her perfume, of spending weeks of hastily trying to find it again, does he cross paths with another. Not the girl, but a familiar face nontheless. A ghostly one that puts a stop to his pace, and has Lómion staring wide-eyed before her.

Confronted with an unfamiliar man woven in midnight shades, Reverie paused. Silence spread between them as her gaze slid over him. She wasn't sure she liked the look in his eyes.

Oh, um, hello... Reverie greeted softly nonetheless. She could be polite, if nothing else. But suddenly she very much wished Dusty Rose was at her side.

That filled form, that willowy coat. Gold struck from head to toe. That face, those eyes — oh! — those eyes! He'd seen her. He knows her. And though her voice had newfound softness he swore he'd met her before, lived with her, god—!

I—

He tasted the blood beneath that flesh once.

You shouldn't be here. There was a waver in his voice. Lómion took a step back.

You shouldn't be here.

A rivulet of ice shot down her spine, forcing a fierce shiver from her. She wasn't safe, not here, not with him. Reverie wanted to call for Dusty Rose, but her voice was frozen in her throat. She took a step back, then another. She could run — but surely he would catch her. She wasn't as fast as she'd once been.

Finally something slipped from her, but it was only a single wavering word:

Why?

She took one step back.

Repressed memory bursted to the forefront of his mind. Yes, he could taste it so vividly in the moment. That metallic tang of blood mixed with the salt of the sea's breeze. He'd thrown her to it, the ocean, back then. To rest in its depths for eternity. And somehow she found him again. Her hunter's mark forever etched on his flank.

For a moment, Lómion was her doe. Skddish and afraid to be struct by her spear.

Then she took another step back.

The hunter faced with her prey, and she retreats? It made him remember one thing then; the soul was strong, but the vessle is mortal. Perhaps she remembered him too.

I-I'm sorry, he spoke with lingering hesitance. I thought you were someone else.

Equiped with dormant knowledge, the man closed some distance with a step forward.

Please don't go.

Reverie blinked at him, recognition flickering behind her eyes then. You shouldn't be here. No, the sun didn't belong in such dark places. He was right.

Shadows were the home of small gods.

I'm not afraid of you, She whispered, remembering that night; the fire. Burning endlessly. And you can't fool me. Not this time. This time she was more than a scared, desperate girl.

There it was. Even through a whisper her soul shined bright. She had returned: the hunter who fell from the sky.

Anguta.

He'd reason to be fearful now.

I d-didn't want to do it. Within his whimper was truth. I swear I didn't!

Oh but he had to then, and he had to now. But Lómion's will was hard to find under the weight of his fright.

Reverie shook her head, hackles finally lifting all along her spine as agitation replaced her fear. She didn't want to hear this. She knew what he was.

I want you to leave, Her voice was still soft. She smelled blood again. Her own blood, thick in the air and in her fur and the dirt and —

She took in a slow breath and a step forward. Not again. Not ever again.

Time wore thin with every word. The fur of her nape spiked, she'd taken a step forward. Anguta readied the spear, aimed to strike the man through the heart.

And even through this hestiance, this fear, Lómion could not accept this fate. Like it or not, he accepted this life's mission the moment he'd sunk his teeth into her neck the first time.

Now he had to it one more time. Just one last time.

I can't, they murmured, shaking their head. You know I can't.

Lómion took a step towards her.

There were several options available to Reverie in this moment. She could have run. She could have called for @Dusty Rose. She even could have lunged for the pathetic creature then and there, put an end to all of it before it truly began. Reverie was no guardian, but she was a wolf; she had teeth like all the rest.

Apparently what she didn't have was a brain. She scooped up the nearest large-ish rock and threw it, then another smaller rock, and another. If you're wondering what she was thinking through all of this, the answer is she was not thinking. At all.

The coywolf was not far; he was never far, these days. So, when the breeze carried the scent of another to his twitchy black nose, he knew that the strange male must be in proximity to them both.

Dusty Rose paused, his ears swivelling uncertainly. Then, without much thought, he threw back his head to let out a cackling scream. It sounded like many voices in the valley; it said, hey, babe, where the fuck are you? and, I am the boss of this place and I eat other wolves just in case you were wondering.

Y'know. The usual coyote song.

She'd all the time to deliver the first blow, and Lómion excused his cowardice for preperation.

A traditional attack was not to come. No, she'd thrown stones his way instead. The largest struck his face, leaving a dull pain but not much more. Come the second and he could only think of three words; strong but mortal. By the time the third was hurled his way, that repeating thought acted as a flimsy shield in his approach.

Then a cackle rose in the air. A call for reinforcement? Lómion lifted his head to the sound for a second. It was close, but not here yet. Maybe he'd be able to finish this before aid was to come. Maybe...

His gaze returned to the hunter, eyes now filled with a fervent haste. I'm sorry, he whispered again, before lunging for her neck.

Dusty Rose. His song distracted her; she glanced over her shoulder toward the sound. Reverie never heard the man's whisper before he lunged for her — but instinct drove her back at the last second. She flinched and stumbled back with a high, ear-shattering shriek. His teeth caught her shoulder, but only briefly.

She knew she ought to run. She almost did. Instead she found herself snapping for his face as shock and fear gave way to pure adrenaline.

It was not a screamsong that echoed back to him — it was, instead, a song that didn't seem to be for him at all. His blood pumped overtime as he launched himself toward the sound, long legs eating up the distance between one shout and the next.

When he saw them fighting, he picked up the pace.

The coywolf bore down with a torrent of guttural threats, charging in without hesitation to tear the male away from his woman.

he can arrive at the end of Lomion's coming turn!

lmk if the stalling isnt ok / too powerplayish, and ill change it!

Lómion found purchase in her shoulder, thus forcing the hunter to use her teeth rather than tool. A barage of of blows forced him off. Ribbons of red ran down his freshly wounded face. Warm on burning skin.

Her defense was not something to disreguard, but it was frantic. If he could just keep his wits about him, Lómion thought, he could get the best of her once more.

With mouth agape, he began to circle her, testing her strength with a false charge before dipping away again. Waiting, watching, studying.

He would not be the doe at the end of the blade, but a buck. A beast with mighty antlers to strike this hunter down.

But he'd ran the clock. Reinforcements had come, and the man was struck from the side. A screech tore out of his throats as he was pulled away from his target and forced to snap at his attacker.

Some powerplay w permission!

It was not when he bit her that Reverie truly found her fire, nor when he began to circle her. No — it was only when Dusty Rose appeared, when he struck her attacker and the man promptly turned on Reverie's lover.

She turned into a vicious thing, then. All snarls and snapping teeth aimed directly for his hind end, lit into a fury that transformed her from delicate dancer to high-powered ass-destroying machine not unlike an electric cheese grater.

Once his main goal of diverting the male's attention was achieved, Dusty Rose was keen on keeping clear of the man's jaws. He danced backwards, not wanting to release the man but wanting to be bitten again even less. Snarls continued to fill the air, but the coywolf would have been happy to try for retreat if not for Reverie's enthusiastic reentrance to the fight.

Which was frustrating. In theory. In reality, it warranted a quick double-take that seemed to say, oh shit are we killing this guy? okay —

And then he was focused on getting his teeth back around the stranger, hoping to grab him by his neck or his face to hold him in place for the lady.

feel free to power play him escaping or injuring Dr coyote. I am just hoping to have Dusty walk home with all his bits and pieces still attached to him.

attempting to dip lolol

Lómion was freed from the jaws of his attacker, but a new fire was lit within the hunter. No more weak projectiles, now she struck with her fangs. Pain shot through his rear, sending him flying forwards into the teeth of the other man. The shadow found a way to weave through what would be an ugly blow, but now without more blood being drawn from his cheek.

The odds had tipped out of his favor, and so Lómion continued to flee rarther than fight.

The man tore away; Reverie was happy to let him flee. She smelled blood in the air — not her own, and her heart was in her throat. She went to Dusty Rose at once, sniffing him all over and exclaiming softly, Oh - you're hurt! It wasn't so bad, but any hurt at all was far too much for Dusty Rose to feel. At least, as far as Reverie was concerned.

Come here, let me take care of it, She pressed a soft kiss to his temple and pulled him away, into the cover of the vale's forest. There she would find herbs to dress his wounds, and a place to settle them for the night. And they would not lead the pack this way, decidedly.

The guy fled. Dusty Rose wanted to go after him — to make a meal out of him, really, because there was no other use in the world for a guy like that. But Reverie was fussing, and that took precedence.

Pretending exasperation, he allowed himself to be taken care of. And, if his tail whisked a little too hard through the dirt, only Reverie was there to see it.