Golden Glade Half way on a slow move

I am. The other hums beautifully and Kynareth’s raising circular brows at him in pleasurable surprise. Or perhaps want? Then the flood gates open and the other is spilling everything from his and Nyra’s last known interaction. 

It makes him want to laugh what he hears spill from the others mouth. He’s not at all surprised Nyra would resort to violence due to being outsmarted. Rather Donovan isn’t even worried about the indirection insult he throws at his own pack — at his Saints. Really, Kynareth’s an understanding man, hard to bother too. He loves playing games and wouldn’t want to resort to violence towards such an inviting wolf as this one. 

Now, of course Donovan would like to recruit him. Of course Donovan would like to fuck him. Yet, isn’t that exactly what he’s expecting of the brindled brute? Probably. He hates to be a stereotype for the guy but hell, does he want to get his paws on him. 

So unable to keep it to himself any longer he doesn’t just what he wanted to do and laughs. A deep rumbling sound that reverberates through his barreled chest. “I hate to say it, but who wouldn’t?” He asks him then, teeth gleaming to the other in a teasing grin. He doesn’t specify whether or not he means the recruiting part or the fucking part, leaving it up to the other man’s imagination.

Kynareth finally becomes a bit more serious, moving languidly to lean against a nearby tree again. “So, what do you want? What’s stopping you from joining a pack?” He asks then, genuinely curious and his tone conversational. Not yet asking him to join; he wants to investigate. He wants to learn more about this intricate creature before him. He knows that one can only be contained in they want to be contained. He’s the same way.