Duck Lake montefitu

the south was warmer.
coväh felt it in the loosening of the ice underfoot, the way it broke soft beneath his paws when he'd crossed the lake's edge the night prior. a herd had carried him here, thin-bellied and wide-eyed, and he hadn't bothered to chase them. not yet. they would need to fatten. and he was not so desperate.
so he stayed.
morning crested in slow waves of light, and coväh did not greet it with any urgency. no, the man lay sprawled atop a knoll of frostbitten grass, belly bared to the sky, one hind leg lazily kicked out, the other drawn up over his chest. his tail flicked in rhythm with his breaths, tongue lolling from his mouth as though he might snore if only sleep would reclaim him.
the lake glistened beyond him, unbothered and endless.
perhaps someone would come along and think him dead—limbs akimbo, throat exposed, his scarred chest rising and falling like a glacier’s slow sigh.
or perhaps they'd know better.
coväh smirked faintly without opening his eyes. the sun was warm here. the herd lingered at the water’s edge. there was no need to move. not until hunger gnawed again.

twitch didn’t see him at first. she wasn’t looking, gaze drawn skyward. the sun had crept in slow, painting the lake in rippling gold, and she’d watched it with lidded eyes, listless, a mere observer to the drifting clouds.

and then—movement. not the herd, not the skittish shapes at the water’s edge, but something closer.

her ears flicked back before her gaze followed, dragging over the knoll where he lay. sprawled. unbothered. his belly to the sky like some great carcass, limbs slack, throat bared. twitch stared, stiff, hackles twitching at the stillness of him. dead? maybe. didn’t smell like it. no obvious cause..

but then, the rise and fall of his chest. the faint flick of a tail, the lazy curl of a lip. oh! alive, then. she supposes that’s good for him—maybe not her. she knows from a glance that he is no friend of the valley, nor her.

she does not watch him long—a twig snaps distantly, and her head whips around to stare in that direction instead. black-tipped ears flatten against her skull, chin tucking. feet firmly planted, but she is leaned into her hind legs—it is instinct to run.

coväh did not move much. not at first.
only the shift of an ear. the lazy flare of his nostrils as he sucked in the morning air, tasting it for strangers. smelled her. sharp, tight scent of a woman trying not to be seen. trying not to stay.
his eyes peeled open, two slits of gold, blinking against the dawn.
then he saw her. stiff thing. ears back, ready to flee like some spooked hare. coväh grinned, slow and crooked, all teeth flashing white against his dark muzzle. he rolled with exaggerated laziness onto his side, a paw flopped over his ribs.
haah, a long, dramatic breath. why you look like ghost see you?
he stretched, long and loud, jaws cracking open with a yawn that showed every tooth. peace, peace. i no eat you. a wink followed, if she caught it, if she dared look long enough. too small. too... bony.
then, with a grunt, he flopped back onto his back. you make big noise. ruin dream. now i awake. hmph.
a pause, his gaze flicking to the sky, and then back to her, as if she’d been the sun itself creeping up over the lake.

twitch bristled worse when she realized he had woken, but her coat smooths back a hair when she sees the lazy grin stretched across his maw. friendly, perhaps. she didn’t quite like the way he looked at her, like he was seeing too much, but she wasn’t keen to leave yet. 

her ears twitched at his words, at the long, drawn-out theatrics of them, but she kept her face blank. his grin was too easy, too sharp. she didn’t trust easy. didn’t trust sharp. 

“..no reason,” she muttered, eyes flicking past him, toward the lake, the herd, anything but the gleam of his teeth. it’s a big fat lie, and it’s clear from the tone of her voice, words strained and tight.

still, she had not moved. her gaze slid back to the tree line when he flopped onto his back again, like he hadn’t a care in the world. perhaps he didn’t because he was strong enough not to!

yes, that makes perfect sense. definitely. decidedly, she lowers her haunches to perch a small distance from him. “go back to sleep, then.”

coväh squints at her from beneath one barely cracked eyelid, sun glinting off the dark curve of his brow.
hah, he huffs, a slow, easy laugh that drags from his throat like honey. okay then.
but he doesn’t move right away. instead, his head rolls to the side so he can keep one lazy eye on her, like maybe she’s the most interesting thing on the shoreline, not the herd, not the breeze.
you just… gonna sit there? watch me sleep? his voice drips with teasing, rough and broken in common tongue, a bit of a smirk curling his lips. little weird, tɨkka.
with a dramatic sigh, he lets his head flop back against the snow, arms stretching out with a loud, exaggerated groan, as if the very thought of staying awake for this conversation was exhausting.
no problem. you keep watch. wake me if bear come.
his eyes close again, but the smirk lingers, faint and knowing, like he’s just waiting for her to say something else.

twitch stares at him, expression flat, unreadable. his words roll off her like water, teasing and careless, like he knows something she doesn’t. annoying. he is lucky he is her only source of protection right now, or else she would do horrible, terrible things to him (she would not).

tɨkka. she doesn’t know the word, but she doesn’t ask. better not to, just in case it was an insult. he didn’t say it like one, but who knows.

instead, she puffs and shifts her weight like she might just leave. like she should. she does not.

“i will deeply consider it,” she mutters. maybe if she needed him to bait it out so she could scamper off. she could still feel her heart beating in her chest, too loud in her ears, and it makes her uneasy with anticipation. she tries to distract herself by watching the herd instead. it does not work, so she continues to fidget.

“would you rather i sleep with you?” it’s meant as a jest, but she realizes quickly how it can be taken out of context. it is too late to take it back, she realizes, so she commits to the bit with the straightest face she can manage.

coväh cracks an eye open, slow as the sun rising over the lake, brows shooting up with exaggerated disbelief. a beat. two.
then—ohhhh.
he grins, sharp and roguish, rolling onto his side like her words physically dragged him back from the brink of sleep. is lady offer-ing? broken common, thick with mischief, his tail giving a lazy thump against the snow.
his grin widens, smug and warm like the damn sunrise itself. you fall for me already, huh? can’t blame you. lotta charm in thees face.
a dramatic sigh, like the weight of being so irresistibly handsome was just so much to bear. but listen tɨkka. i snore. is dangerous commitment.
he gives a slow shimmy of his shoulders, mock-settling back into his lounging sprawl, but his gaze never leaves her, playful and waiting.
you come here, though. is warmer thees side, he adds with a lazy pat of the snow beside him, clearly not expecting her to accept but enjoying the teasing all the same.

twitch goes still. not tense, not bristling, just—still. like her brain short-circuited for half a second before catching up.

then, oh.

her ears flick back, heat crawling unbidden beneath her fur. it warms her cheeks, her ears. she cannot fight the stupid downturned smile it brings to her face, cannot ward it off fully. she hadn’t meant it like that—hadn’t meant anything, really, but the way he grins at her is a driving force. the way he leans into it is gratifying.

he liked it. a pleasant change of pace! usually that sort of joke would’ve gotten her all kinds of looks. she watches as he shifts, wiggles in place and offers him a spot at his side. tempting. she should turn, put distance between herself and the stranger, but now she doesn’t want to.

her eyes flick to the spot he pats, to the stretch of snow beside him, and she quirks a brow. “yeah?” she questions, only a tad lower than before—smoother, a mix between being amused and being sultry.

his openness eases the unsteady best of her heart, so gingerly, she complies. let him ease her thoughts, and then she would go. her tail curls around her paws when she finally drops to the earth at his side, frontlegs tucking beneath her. he did not lie—it was warm, but perhaps it was just him.

coväh watches her like a man watches the first bite of a meal he’s been craving all day. slow. savoring. lazy grin tugging wide across his muzzle as she actually—actually—takes the offer.
aja, he hums, pleased, voice rumbling low as his chin tips back toward the sky. look at this. lady fall for me so easy. a wink, exaggerated, playful, as he shifts just enough to make sure she’s got space, but not too much. close enough that the warmth is him, radiating lazy and golden like midday sun.
lucky day for coväh, he adds, rolling the word like it tastes good on his tongue. pretty girl. good snow. big lake. food somewhere, maybe. he shrugs, like the world is his and today it’s decided to treat him well.
then he leans just a bit closer, conspiratorial, whispering loud enough for the whole damn lake to hear, you not tell no one, okay? ruin my reputation.
he snorts, flopping dramatically onto his side with a sigh, his tail flicking over the snow. next we nap. wake up, we steal herd. is good plan, yes? a pause, glancing sidelong at her through half-lidded eyes. unless you want... romance first.
and there’s that grin again. sharp. stupid. utterly shameless.

twitch snorts. fall for him? bold—twitch was eager to see how long that lasted. still, warmth radiates from him, lazy and golden, and she does not wish to part from him.

"mm," she hums, noncommittal, eyes half-lidded as she settles in, "you flatter me, coväh," his name rolls from her tongue pleasantly, words half jest. it fits him.

she lets him talk, lets him preen, his words rolling easy, full of pleasure, like the world had been made just for him to enjoy. "if your reputation is so weak that my words will destroy it, i think you have bigger issues." she drawls, side-eyeing him.

nap, hunt when wake. both good in theory. "it is," she breathes, and he speaks again.

romance? twitch blinks once, twice, as if she didn't expect him to mention it again. twitch was not good at romance—not the literal or the one she had unintentionally suggested. 

the tawny she-wolf shifts—just a little, just enough that her back brushes the warmth of his side. barely there. almost nothing. "could. m' not exactly experienced, though," she did not fear the idea; it often occupied some place in the back of her mind, but the idea of children always warded her away from acting upon it.

coväh grins, all teeth, like he just won something. maybe he has. her back brushes against his side, light as a breath, but he feels it like a brand. a small touch, an almost. the girl plays coy, but he sees it—the flicker of thought, the way her words roll just a little slower now, like she's considering.
not ex-perienced? he parrots, brows waggling, voice thick with amusement. ah, no worries. lucky for you, coväh very patient. gentle teacher. a dramatic pause, a lazy smirk. unless you like rougher, then—
he stretches, his whole body shivering with it, big and exaggerated. we get there.
his tail taps once against the ground, slow, thoughtful. his tone turns softer, just a little, like he’s weighing something. romance not so bad. maybe girl like. he tilts his head toward her, sly. maybe girl fall for me after all.
he lets the words hang between them, smug, but not pressing. let her chew on that.

twitch had half a mind to snap at him, to roll her eyes, to scoff at his ridiculous bit. but—pah, who cares.

instead, she presses in, slow and steady, nose-first like some burrowing thing, like she’s not even aware she’s doing it. closer, closer, until her shoulder bumps his chest and her weight settles against him. she feels the warmth, solid and steady, and she longs for it.

his leg is there, lazy and draped, and she nudges under it without thinking, hooking it over her shoulder like it belongs there. like she belongs here. she does not, but it is fun to pretend. she is always pretending.

it’s new. new, but not bad. not wrong.

she huffs again, quiet, as if exhaling a million times will rid her of the excess body heat clawing up her body. “maybe,” she mutters, like it costs her something. “maybe not.”

coväh grins, all lazy satisfaction, like a wolf who just won a game he wasn’t even playing. his chin tips, watching her ease in, unhurried and unbothered, like gravity had simply drawn her to him. his leg, the one she hooks over her shoulder, flexes slightly before settling again, locking her in place without a word.
is lady say-ing she like? he hums, voice thick with amusement, but there’s something else in it too. something softer. he doesn’t press her for an answer, doesn’t need to.
instead, he exhales, slow and deep, head rolling back against the snow. maybe, he mimics, lips quirking as his eyes slip closed. maybe not.
the conversation dwindles, lulled by the quiet of the world around them, the slow rise and fall of his chest. warmth shared between them, easy as breathing.
he’d won, but really, who was keeping score?

down to fade in your next:)

twitch doesn’t answer—not with words, at least. just shifts minutely, weight sinking into him like she’s meant to be there.

her breath evens out, slow, steady, matching his own. the world hums soft around them, a slow-progressing melody, and the lake stretching endless, the herd still lingering somewhere in the distance.

it’s warm. it’s good.

her eyes slip shut, and in the arms of another, sleep takes her quick.

---

fade!