Whitefish River keep your head up

>;) i have no idea whats happening eitherr

 

aaaand okay. whatever saarthal had been expecting, it definitely wasn't this. varinril, for as long as saarth had known her - which granted, wasn't long at all - had never really struck the roman as the flirtatious or seductive type. she'd always seemed reserved, filled with this aura of quiet strength and underlying wisdom that, in a way, frightened the yearling. not because varin was scary, per se, but because knowledge was power, and deep down, saarth always felt as if the older wolf was - could be - judging her, what with her inarticulate words and lack of eloquence and her 'act before thinking' attitude. so, she'd never really flirted with varin beyond the 'pretty eyes' stage. not because she didn't want to, but because varin was older and maybe more experienced, and she didn't want to flirt and be laughed at, afterward.

but saarthal really shouldn't have worried. because all of a sudden varinril drew close, blue eyes so alike, yet unlike those of her past smack right in the centre of her vision - this time, she could genuinely drown in their fathomless depths. but that wasn't the end of it. no, instead, varin edged even closer until the heat of her breath tickled the tip of saarthal's maw, wafting over the length of her muzzle. her own breath hitched, catching in the back of her throat and the muscles beneath her coat tense as nervous energy coursed through her veins. kiss. somewhat inappropriate thoughts flit absentmindedly through her mind, though, to be perfectly honest given these current circumstances - it wasn't really that inappropriate. saarth flushed, an unwelcome heat, uncomfortable and burning coloured the pale silver of her cheeks and the stormy edges of her ears. she may be a confident flirt, but when she was being flirted with, and from varinril at that - it was entirely different. "cheesy, vari, but-"

god, you're hopeless. and maybe she is. but saarthal collected herself quickly for someone who'd, seconds ago, been a blushing mess of wolf, and when she spoke again, having only half heard the last sentence leaving varin's lips (given that she'd spent more time in the last few seconds staring at those lips than actually listening to what she was saying), it was without a hitch or a crack in her voice - something saarthal was silently thankful for. "perhaps," the girl repeated with a lick of her lips, brazenly closing the distance between them and if vari allowed her to do so, touched the tip of her nose into the ivory curve of the older girl's neck, slowly tracing her way back to varinril's pale cheek (if she didn't, saarthal would simply whisper into her ear) "perhaps, you should kiss me instead," an impish tilt to her lips undermined by the dark temptation in her copper orbs accompany her husky words. 

after all, it wasn't fair that varinril was the only one having fun. but the game just got all the more dangerous - saarthal was willing to play, if only because she was young and practically programmed to make bad, impetuous decisions. was varin willing to, though? an inclination of saarthal's crown, teeth digging lightly into her lip; provocative: saarthal frostfur-diangeli, reckless, young, stupid and eager as she was, dared her to.