Phoenix Maplewood oblivion

Haha. Makes for a good thread! I love it when characters write themselves.

He offered to lead her there. She eyed him for a moment, contemplating their current objective and this new option. Both were tempting. "Depends. Do you still wish to be shoved into a puddle?" She did have some desire to see this clearing he spoke of, but there would be time to visit a little bit of everything when this pack was officially up and running. Until then, so long as they were continuing to stake their claim, their daily activities were still somewhat up in the air.

He continued on some sort of long rant in which he was inviting her to join him in that clearing. Was he insane? She was certainly not the better wolf and compassion did not flow so freely through her veins. "Do not mistake me for having sentiment." The words were empty and void as she contemplated a civil way to sneak out of this one. She was, after all, trying to remain some kind of polite. "I prefer the cover of trees," she said simply. "I may place part of my garden in that clearing, but when it rains, I do not wish to be so exposed." There. Reason enough. "You'll simply have to get used to trees or get used to sleeping alone." That was all there was to it.

Their conversation on that topic faded as they drifted along in silence. Here and there, Citali would excuse herself behind one tree or another to mark with the illusion of privacy before rejoining him on whatever trail they were weaving through this forest. The river had to be around here somewhere. Or that clearing. She knew not which of the two they'd encounter first. Her sense of direction was terrible and she was not recognizing anything from their previous time here.

She left him to silence as he suggested he'd find her and bury her in excuses another day. She had no doubt on that. He seemed the type who needed something to complain about in order to fuel his internal fire and kindle that same spirit. It was just a matter of time before he grew frustrated again. Until then, she'd leave him to his thoughts and speak no more of Frostfire. The woods of present were far more important. She brushed herself against the lower trunks of a few trees before smoothing out her rustled fur and continuing.

Ears quirked when he spoke again, only to immediately fall. She was not a man. Not by any means. Insulted, she brooded as he continued and tried to compliment her somehow. She identified his words for their intention, not necessarily their smoothness (as there was none), and wasn't sure if she was satisfied with that line of thought. Whatever she said was far more important than the words of any male, but if he was mistaking them for advice then it was time she changed her tune. "I am not," she protested. "You are not welcome." She huffed and stole a few paces ahead, leaving him to his task as he trailed behind.

Of course, their silence was short-lived as her pout was erased by the next topic of conversation. Oh no. She did not wish to talk about herself or her poor social skills. There was a reason why she healed instead of any other task. Healing required a good morale with plants, not patients. She could tell her patients to sit down, shut up, and take it despite their protests and they'd still thank her for it later once they were all patched up. Win-win. She did not dilly dally with tasks that were any more verbose than necessary.

At the very least, he agreed to her version of a nickname. A small victory, but one that was short-lived as he attempted to compliment her. Her stubbornness caused her brow to furrow as he contradicted her opinion of herself. Her frown deepened as he elaborated, though internally it pleased her to know she was behaving herself appropriately with the opposite gender. She had little practice with it, but much to her dismay, she imagined she'd be having quite a bit more exposure to their gender.

"Still not welcome," she hummed, her tone lighter this time. Truthfully, she did enjoy their banter. Few could measure up to her level of wit and, while he needed a considerable amount more of practice, he was well on his way to mastering snark. "You may thank me by finding that stream. Or the clearing. I don't care which."