Ghost Lion Crag Ride or die.

again, his words seemed to parse out into thin air -- was she not listening? he bit back his confusion, catching the newfound coldness that had slipped into the woman's gaze.

and then she was off, moving -- very much against arcturus' wishes.

he was torn between respecting that, and chasing after her. he was so god-damned confused, he easily could have stood there for the next three years trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened and get nowhere -- but the more primal part of him was already kicking him into gear.

he moved after her, vying now for her attention with a low growl he was unaware she couldn't hear. "wait!" when that elicited no response, he stopped, confused as fuck - did she not want it anymore? should he stop?

his blood was already pumping so hard from this up-and-down stop-and-go enterprise, that he did something very unarcturus-like. he started after her, and this time, aimed a (gentle) nip at her hocks to get her attention. "come back," this time, his voice was not pleading -- it was insistent.