Ravensblood Forest run until you feel your lungs bleeding

sorry i could not spree yesterday -- [size=xx-small]alcohol fml[/size]
also eeep missed threading with chu

[size=medium]"If I had a heart you're the one who should break it"[/size]

[size=small]As his paws treaded quickly over the ground, tearing the velveteen layer of snow that covered the earth Finn almost failed to awknowledge the gloomy silhouette of another being at the far right side of the labyrinth of trees that made up the forest. With his pace slowing into a calm walk he allowed his tasted the air idly, the fat raindrops rolling over his snout plastering his fur into the chiveled, careless look he had sported during his debut in the Teekon Wilds.
But as he breathed in the cold winter air, a particular fragrance, the residues of a perfume he had once known so well, wafted into his nose; making the silver man twist his ears in both bewilderment and fascination.

The cross of their roads was one that came to him unexpectedly, but never unwelcomed. After his wounds had healed and his tongue had been reprimanded for its brash reactions, the though of seeing her, his stunt double, did no longer trouble him. Still, he could speak only for himself; who knew what effect time had had on her.
For all he knew, the stretched out months could have turned him into a stranger in her phonebook.

He considered resuming his run, but quickly discarded the thought as he remembered how much it had hurt him when she had been the one to play Houdini. Another heavy coat of water fell onto his back, and though his lips had suddenly become dry, he decided to move forth.
It was worth the shot if she was already here; and besides, if she didn't want his company, she could always call on one of her bear friends, right?
(hopefully she wouldn't have the need to)

With a last shake of his charmingly tousled fur and the beginning of a smile stating to curve his lips he approached, his head hanging neutrally between his shoulder blades as he allowed the tip of his tail to betray what his olive eyes didn't.
Delight.
Even if they had lost touch after their horrible crash and burn, to the Ollivander, the fallout could not be attributed to nothing but their (both's) own inmaturity.

A soft woof,resembling the one he had used with the small Mayfair princess, escaped from his lips announcing his presence beforehand in hopes to prevent the female from falling towards her much rehearsed routine of run run run.
"Hey, girl" he barked, unable to stop himself from using the same little quip he had used in one of their most ancient encounters. And unable to rid his face of the amiable, charming smile that came along with it.

"What's been happenin' in your world, Finley Blackthorn?" He asked, an alternative form of a 'how are you?' that was issued with a cautious voice and his lingering steps. Today, at least from his side, no mention of their miserable last encounter would be made. Even if the rain was pouring down and the sky shared the same grey coat they both wore, something about her lack of...fiery craziness told him that any allusion to the subject was better off being avoided.
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