Redtail Rise the right side of my neck still smells like you

this is dated for late april/early may! she's looking for her boy toy but AW >:D

the rise.
it wasn't all that hard to find, marked by steep, sharp mountaintops and miles of tundra. she'd passed through here before when moving to rivenwood, she thought, but she'd never come this close to a pack's land that wasn't her own.
not exactly the most experienced mountain climber, her muscles burn by the time she's tracked down the musky scent of her playmate, lungs tightened with the struggle. he'd be laughing at her if he could see her right now, fur tousled by the cut of the wind and devastatingly parched.
it's gonna be real awkward if i've got the wrong place, she mumbles to no one but herself, shuddering as she weaves between the needleleaf trees and watching as a pair of falcons swoop over her head. it was daunting, this place. it reminds her of how she felt the first time she arrived at rivenwood.
the border is strongly marked as if it were a giant flashing DO NOT ENTER sign. she second-guesses herself and nearly turns back at least twice; until she catches another note of the dark-faced boy on the breeze, and her stomach flutters with that same girlish, naive excitement. she lifts her head in a call for @Mulherin before she can think about it any longer, his name splintered between her high-pitched tune.

He hasn't heard that voice in some time now.

Dinah?

The Berserker, lounging in the summer heat, lifts his head. He is sure he heard right, but a part of him thinks it was his hopes getting the best of him.

Quickly, he goes off to find her—or whoever it may be—before any Rise member interferes.

And at the border, there she was, striking as ever.

He trots toward her at an easy pace.

Hi, stranger.

Missed me?

he approaches, and dinah feels herself fall in like all over again. she greets him with a beam, the sunburst plume of her tail waving at her haunches. don't get cocky now.
what was the proper form of greeting when you show up at the home of a cute boy? a hug? a handshake? did wolves even have the equivalent of that? while their meeting had been a first for mulherin, this crossing of paths was a first for dinah. she decides to rather awkwardly trot up to him and brush her body against his flank in the most nonchalant, cool-girl way she could muster.
i told ya i'd come visit, if she were more familiar with this place, she would have waltzed right ahead of him and strolled through the territory; but there was something about the vibe of this place that made the little angel on her shoulder scream do not do that. you've got a nice place. it's so cold though. the wind almost made me freeze on my way up here.

He realizes how much he's missed their banter. There were few in the Rise he could actually chat with. Hey- you're on my turf now.

She brushes past him and he turns, landing playful nip on the fleeting swish of her tail.

"I told ya I'd come visit," She says. 

If she'd waited a day or two longer, he probably would've gone off and tracked her down himself.

Yeah. Took you long enough. He teases with a snort. Mulherin takes to her side, leading them on a stroll. And don't worry, I'll keep you warm.

It's been awhile. Tell me what you've been up to.

sounds like you missed me, dinah snorts, deciding to take things up a notch by nuzzling her face beneath his jaw. she stays like this long enough for a spark to dance in her veins, pulling away only to nip at the lobe of his ear.
a lot of wandering. and thinking, she pulls her eyes away from mulherin to take in the landscape as it shifts, the spring greenery drawing a sparkle to her eyes. y'know how i told you i hadn't been to my island in, like, months? i'm thinking of going to visit it. i don't think anybody still lives there, but... i'onno, maybe it'd be good for me. the corner of her mouth twitches. i haven't seen my brothers in so long. or-- my dad, she swallows, turning to once again meet the honey-gold gaze. everybody's a bit scattered now.
and one of them was buried six feet under.
but enough about me, she barks out a laugh, prodding at the dark-pelted shoulder with a dainty paw. how's the rise been? lonely, i imagine.

He leans into her touch, breathing in both the sandiness of her scent, and the places she had been to.

And she tells him where she's been, vague enough that he assumes it has been anywhere but Rivenwood. How far d'you go? Still out on your own?

Her plans for the island intrigue him. You should go. Even if you don't find them, it'll give you some peace of mind, y'know. He encourages, advice which he'd learned quite organically. Searching made him feel a tinge of bitterness now. But his circumstances are different, and he can't help but feel concern for the girl, so far from home. It would be good for her to have family somewhere out there. 

Go scope it out for me, maybe I'll come with you next time.

The Rise, lonely? He scoffs lightly, thinking about his newly returned sister. Actually, not at all. We've got new neighbors. 

as far away as i can get, she says it as if it were a joke, a hint of laughter laced in her featherlight voice, but bitterness was still there, buried somewhere within her. she thinks of her mother and her new kids. the ones that were not her father's. her eyes harden for a passing second before the anguish melts away again.
you think so? she sucks in a deep breath, smiling as he mentions coming there with her. it was a nice thought, the idea of them having the whole isle to themselves, ah — her face flushes. i think you'd like it there. it's all one big beach. and it's a hell of a lot warmer, and sunnier, most days.
new neighbors? her brows raise in intrigue. how's that working out for you? hopefully they're not noisy.

Her humor earns her a thoughtful look from him. Amber eyes study her face for any obvious emotion, but she veers away from the topic swiftly. He can't decide whether he wants to know her past; it matters, yet at the same time, not at all. It depends on the path she chooses, it wasn't apt for him to interfere with that.

Sun would be nice, He muses. The boy didn't so much care for the beach, but rather for the company. Though I think there's still saltwater lodged in my ears from our swim.

As for her question,

Yeah, well, it's actually my sister and her brood. He explains simply. It's complicated.

He'll tell her more if she presses; for now, he redirects away from family trauma.

Are you staying the night or do you have places to be?

ah, you get used to it, she teases. you're gonna grow gills by the time i'm done with you.
her ears cup forward as he details his neighborhood drama; his sister and her brood. it's complicated, he says, and this earns a hearty giggle from her. oh, man, don't i know how that feels, she grimaces, sucking on her teeth before facing him with a soft expression. i won't pry, but, y'know, if it makes you feel better to talk about it... or not.
she would be perfectly content with this moment lasting for the rest of time, she thinks; the breeze brushes against her cheeks and the songbirds chirp above them, and she is suddenly all too aware of the warmth that radiates from his body, how close he was to her.
and then —
had she a drink, she would have promptly comically spit it out all over him; instead, she merely smirks at him. do you want me to stay the night?
she was going to sleep.
alone.
with a hot guy.
not just any hot guy, but a hot guy who looked at her with a smoulder that could melt the tallest of glaciers, a hot guy who had muscles carved by angels, a hot guy who actually cared about her and thought she was pretty and and and
oh, dear mother of god, she was gonna pass out. or throw up. or maybe both.
be cool, be cool, be cool; her gaze falls to the floor yet again, deciding that she must focus on the pretty flowers so that she doesn't die of her own horniness. i mean, so long as your parents won't kill me in my sleep.

He can't help but snort at her comment. Never in his life did he think he'd ever be threatened with the concept of growing gills.

In the least, Dinah seems to understand the chaos of his family dynamics. He decides to spare the details; his disdain for Masquerade's abandonment seemed awfully needy.

He does love his sister, but he wasn't helpless. Mulherin didn't need her.

It was still taking him awhile to sort through this whirlwind of emotions—and wrangling emotionlessness—to decide how he felt at the end of the day.

She just left on a whim and came back all of a sudden. That's the gist of it. 

As for his latter question, she seems to play coy. He tilts his head and tries to gauge her expression. Mulherin reaches over and lands a light nip on her ear. Come on, give me a real answer.

I'm not gonna beg. He laments, fighting a laugh. Course not. My parents aren't around anymore. Unless you're afraid of ghosts.

Hopefully the my parents are dead revelation wouldn't kill the mood.

she just left on a whim.
dinah pauses then, a thoughtfulness spreading across her cheeks and creasing her brows. he says little of the situation, but behind his eyes is a crest of knowing, a diamond buried in the ruff.
i get it. no more needed to be said. for the first time in her life, she felt as if she spoke to someone who — understood.
he speaks then of ghosts, and there is a flare of distinct recognition there. if she hadn't "known" before, she certainly did now, and her own words ring in her mind; i get it.
but his teeth against her earlobe sober her and she cannot help but gasp, a shudder creeping down the slope of her back. long-repressed thoughts begin to surface, sinfully seeping into the forefront of her mind; what would it be like to touch him? what did he taste like?
stars splinter her vision as she leans on the edge of his words. she stops short while they are shaded by underbrush and emerald green, tilting her chin up and standing on the tips of her toes. daringly, she reaches up to place a palm against his shoulder, allowing herself to embrace the electricity the contact sent through her forelimb and straight to her heart.
i want to kiss you so fucking badly right now.

Dinah does not press him. Her acknowledgement is simple, her words fall like rain.

The silence is spearing.

Nearly, he forgets what he was talking about; lost in her depths of her gaze.

He’d thought of her many times since they’d met. Boyishly, ashamedly—only the curve of her back, occasionally the shape of her smile, the blue of her eyes. But maybe, there was more than just that.

The caress of her breath is warm against his face. Her touch is ever delicate.

His whisper is a quiet rasp,

Time holds its breath.

So what’s stopping you?

there were so many things she could have said.
this is sinful was one of them. they were not even engaged — and she was not like her mother, she was still wholly pure; thoughts of doing such a thing had never even crossed dinah's mind until she fell face-first into the fireworks mulherin set off within her. i've never done this before was another one. what if her breath smelled? what if she was bad at this — too eager, too much tongue or teeth, too nervous?
but ultimately the answer was nothing, and she spoke this not with words but with the gentle press of her lips to his own; sweet as butterscotch and ever so hesitant at first before she allows herself, little by little, to meld her body into his. her limb stretches around his neck, draped over his shoulder; a wolfish whine of anticipation is followed by a fluttering giggle as her pulse soars, tail swaying behind her with a contented rhythm.
he tastes better than prayer.

No words were needed. 

He is thrilled, fearless; diving headfirst into whatever she would surrender. And she meets him with a kiss. 

For a moment, he lingers there. Enthralled, in disbelief, before his affections move to trace the line of her jaw. Then, falling to her neck. He is desperate for more of her, his self-control slipping away. All he sees is her.

Quietly, he pulls her in and leads her away from the Rise.

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: suggestion

dinah had never felt anything like this before.
she knew what sex was. of course she did! and she'd certainly thought about it more than once after she'd met mulherin. but she'd always assumed it to be pleasureless, boring, only for the purpose of reproduction. she also didn't really understand that she, as a woman, could crave it.
she is just as enthralled as he, leaning almost helplessly into his touch. his obsession is electrifying and she cannot help but drink from it, goad him with obscene whispers of words she did not know she had in her vocabulary. she is voracious.
they do not make it far from the borders before she collides with him again, this time boldly exploring him herself; worshipping every hard line and soft curve with her touch, her kiss. unapologetic. wild.