Dragoncrest Cliffs Beryl [M]

Bleary eyed, he roused with a confused, sleepy, grunt at Portia's suggestion -- and first thought was that something was wrong, despite the lack of obvious panic around. Evidently it had been a cozy, satisfyingly deep sleep for he needed a few beats to catch up to the here and now. Blinking, sniffing, wondering why she'd poked his side.. he was already halfway to his feet before he realized properly what was happening.

His furs prickled up and this got him waking up even faster, instinctively looking to stay close and keep her guarded from nearby others of the male persuasion all at once. But when he reached his muzzle for her ruff, he felt the pull already. Anxiousness and desire made an unpleasant mix. Wildfire's heat had recently been denied, with the commander's reasons understandable.. but as he had known it, Portia's intentions were not the same as the bandrona's. He whined quietly, pining almost for more of her scent in his nose.

Starting small, quickly and quietly, he nudged against her again with a low, throaty whisper of a chuff. Head out? was all he hoped to convey with a point towards the cavern's mouth next. The bitter cold be damned, that at least could give him some space with this. With the very idea, his ears splayed backwards, almost enough to fall flat against his head.. torn on how to proceed exactly. Protect her, unquestionably, was on this list but the more he smelled, the more he'd like to have.

He knew well what he'd like, what she'd probably like to. He'd be more than glad to, trust him on that. However experience lent him a very good sense of cause and effect. He kept thinking of the commander's words to Wildfire, and her resulting sorrow.

For now, while still waking up properly and until he could figure it out, he'd focus on keeping the rest of the nearby noses from getting involved. That was the last thing he needed right now.