Hushed Willows Juramentum

"You do," he agreed. "And your appeal is the very reason I need you." Teagan only needed a slight diplomatic polishing and he would could be a superb recruiter and ambassador. He was the complete embodiment of a Marauder, the very type of wolf Warbone wished to bring up beneath his reign. A pack of ranging masters of speech, travel, and hunt— the exhilarating pursuit of war and survival. He was drawn from an imperial future, by an imitation of himself. Warbone snorted, not yet far enough out of his solitary life to remember the joy of laughing, so for now this was as close as Teagan was going to get to a real one.

"What do you want from me?" 

He had stopped walking, and was looking squarely into the tall fox's face. His voice, filled with molten avarice and other thinly veiled sins, demanded a straight answer. He asked so curtly because he intended to respond as such. Teagan had given him what he wanted, and he did not intend to deny him of what he wanted in return— within reason.

"Is it my affection you seek?" he growled, prowling against the male in demonstration as his muzzle sought skin at the base of Teagan's throat. Warbone breathed deeply, dragging his face across the solid, svelte frame of him hidden beneath unruly orange-red fur, until he had come to his hip. "Or my dominance?" He nipped there, neither gentle or tearing, as he begun to round the male, nosing curiously at the base of his tail. He was standing beside Teagan again, his lips curled and his eyes watchful. "Because I only have the capacity to give one. And I assure you it is not the former."