Duskfire Glacier not kids no more

AW

the morning air was sharp, crisp with the lingering touch of winter’s breath. faust exhaled, watching as his breath curled into the cool sky before vanishing like a specter. the lupine meadow stretched before him, its vibrant colors dulled by the season, but soon, the flowers would return, blooming in swaths of violet and indigo.
his pace was steady, albeit reckless. he moved with the assurance of a man who knew these lands intimately, the soil and stone beneath his paws as familiar as the scars that mapped his skin. at the meadow’s edge, he paused, rolling his shoulders to shake off the stiffness that had settled there.
this was routine—necessary. the edges of darukaal needed to be reinforced, a silent declaration to any wandering fools who might think to test the glacier wolves. faust lifted his leg, marking the border with a low chuff, his eyes sweeping across the land.
the air carried the scents of the wild—prey, damp earth, and something faint in the distance. a presence? his nostrils flared as he took it in, gaze narrowing slightly. perhaps it was nothing. perhaps it was something. either way, he would find out soon enough.
with a final shake of his thick pelt, he pressed forward, continuing his patrol, the weight of leadership settling like a familiar cloak across his shoulders.

the night spent with @Lorcan had not been disappointing. he had been exactly what she needed; more than willing to provide not only pleasure, but revenge. 

she wore his scent like a cloak. bore the teeth marks of their passion upon her neck and scruff. and now, she sauntered with renewed energy. calmer now; sated, even. 

and oh, the cruel side of her could not wait to flaunt around faust. she'd played her game, she'd moved her pawn. and she wished to see his ire, to bare witness to the fury she hoped he would possess. 

with a sultry smile, she traveled back into darukaal's borders with a sway in her hips. and of course he was there; ever the dutiful. she would stride past him with as much as a fleeting glance, a knowing smirk. 

"enjoy your evening with your woman?" she goaded with a sway of her tail. "i do hope it was as pleasurable as mine."

faust smelled him before he saw her. the acrid stench of another male clung to her skin like filth, woven through her fur, tainting the air between them. his stomach twisted. something guttural clawed up his throat, hot and seething. fucking svalla.
his tail rose instinctively, the thick bristle of his guard hairs flaring, shoulders stiffening as she strode past him, so smug, so utterly pleased with herself.
his forest eyes burned, tracking the sway of her hips, the deliberate flick of her tail. she wanted him to react. wanted him to burn for it. and damn her, he did.
her words were a blade, one she twisted so effortlessly, aiming for the soft, raw parts of him. he let it pierce—felt the sting, the bloom of something dark and unspoken. his jaw clenched. a sneer threatened to curl at the edges of his lips, but he caught it, swallowed it down like bile.
it was fine. his voice was cold, clipped. controlled. but there was a dangerous undercurrent beneath it, something barely restrained.
thank you for asking.
a sharp, pointed tsk left his tongue as he turned his head from her, dismissive, as if the sight of her offended him. as if he could simply shut out the wildfire she had started inside him.
but his body betrayed him. his pulse thundered, his teeth ached to sink into her scruff, to drag her back and remind her who she belonged to.
but she didn’t, did she?
she never did.
faust exhaled slowly, forcing himself to step past her, to put distance between them. but the tension remained, thick and smothering, woven tight between them like a snare waiting to spring.

the anger so evident in his stiff posture, the set of his jaw...gods, it was beautiful. and it was exactly what she wanted. perhaps she was cruel, so get such enjoyment from his misery. there's a knowing look in her eye. faust may play the stoic chieftain to the rest of darukaal, but had he forgotten she could read him like no other could?

she's so happy with herself. elated, truly. "what's the matter, faust?" she cooed, mimicking a pout. prodding at him, to see if she could get him to snap. to witness the ire he hardly contained. "you said pleasure was not a crime, did you not?" throwing his words back in his face, a pointed blow. a calculated one.

she does not let him walk away from her. she slides against his side, just a ghost of a teasing touch. rubbing the man's scent against his skin, too, simply for the fun of it. she was playing a dangerous game and it is one she's intent on winning. he had made a fool of her, and she would return the favor.

"jealousy has never suited you, you know." svalla muses with a flash of teeth. "or are you upset because your serf of a woman could not please you?"

his patience snapped.
the moment her voice lilted, teasing, cooing as if he were something to be toyed with—he was on her.
his body moved before thought, before reason, before the cold logic that had always been his tether. a violent shove, unforgiving in its force. her back hit the frozen earth, the impact knocking the air from her lungs, his shadow looming over her, heat rolling from him like an impending storm.
you fucking little— his voice was a growl, something raw and guttural, words tangled in breath and fury. she was smirking at him, even now, eyes alight with some twisted, knowing satisfaction.
she liked it.
she always had.
his chest heaved, breath sharp against the freezing air as he loomed closer, muzzle nearly brushing hers. her scent, mingled with another’s, taunted him. she had done this on purpose. played him like a pawn in whatever wicked game she had conjured up in that sharp, scheming mind of hers.
jealousy? he echoed, voice low, dangerous. he gave a sharp, humorless laugh, but his grip tightened where it had found her, pressing her further against the cold, uncaring ground.
you think that’s what this is?
his teeth flashed as he leaned in, his breath scalding against the side of her face, deliberate. he was not stupid. he knew exactly what game she was playing. she had always thrived on his anger, on his ire, on the way he could never quite ignore her no matter how much he told himself he should.
he let the silence stretch for a moment, let the weight of him against her settle.
then, his mouth curled into something cruel. no, svalla. he murmured, voice dark, taunting. i'm just reminding you of what you're fucking with.

there it was. the anger that delights her so, in the form of his brutish show of strength. the impact of the ice beneath her spine shakes the wind from her lungs with a wheeze of a laugh. 

his ire does not instill her with fear, but wicked satisfaction. it was what she wanted, and he gave it to her so easily. a pawn at her hand. her lips curl with a grin/sneer, eyes burning as she stares up at him. 

"look at you," she purred. chin tilting, unafraid of his snapping teeth. she skims the bottom of his jaw with a ghost of a touch. "always so quick to be let off your chain. some things never change." 

she did not fight his hold. "i spoke with your new woman," she sighed. "she seems to be a moron. and to think your standards were higher. it disappoints me, truly." words are sharp as blades, as always. prodding and taunting. 

his threat was hollow to her ears, but she would bite. "is that so? what are you going to do, faust?" she grins. a fight? she would welcome it. but how unbecoming it would be for the kind of the glacier.

faust snarled.
she's not my— whatever. the words cut off like the snap of a thread, severed before they could be given life.
he would not give her that.
his weight pinned her down, breath hot against the cold, the force of his body caging hers against the unforgiving ice. she did not fight him. she never did. because she liked it. the wicked gleam in her eye, the curl of her lips—she thrived on this.
his teeth flashed, a warning, a promise.
you think this is me off my chain?
he let his grip tighten, just for a breath, just to watch the way her body reacted beneath his. every taunt, every fucking word was a test. she was pulling him, dragging him into the chaos she craved.
and he let her.
his gaze burned into hers, green fire seething with something just as wild, just as reckless.
we are not in the wilds anymore, svalla.
his voice was low, steady, but beneath it lurked a violence neither of them had ever quite learned to temper. these games you play? they have real consequences.
his muzzle dropped close, so close their breaths tangled in the cold. you do not want to know what i will do if you keep testing me.
he held her there a moment longer, the heat between them simmering into something far more dangerous than anger, something neither of them would ever name.
then, just as suddenly as he had thrown her down, he wrenched himself away, stepping back with ease.
walk carefully, svalla. the smirk that ghosted across his lips was humorless, dark. i am not as kind as you remember.

exit faust

we are not in the wilds anymore. the revelation hits her like a wall of stone. guts her, as this entire time, ever since she stepped foot out of hrafn, she's convinced herself otherwise. 

convinced herself that he is still the same Faust she once knew, and that she was still the same wildling that rued beside him. 

it was easier to hold onto simpler times. a coping mechanism to protect her from the harsh realities she lives in. hfran is no longer, least not underneath the same rule. faust is no longer the childhood friend. blackfell, either. 

and she is not a child anymore. her eyes burn, her pride wounded and shattered. she did not want to swallow that pill...

but if she doesn't, she would lose him again. 

didn't she come here to reunite? to have him by her side again? 

she does not chase after him, when he leaves. she'd won the game, and she had enjoyed it. but now? it left a sour taste in her mouth. a weight in her chest. 

she is not a wildling anymore. and neither is faust. she snarls to herself; angry, hurt, confused. understanding now, of where she had stood. of the false life she wanted to lead.

and so she would sulk. mourn the loss, sweep up her broken ego, and piece herself back together in time.