Moonspear But baby it's cold outside

He had mostly kept to himself as the winter wrapped the land fully in its embrace. He was thickfurred enough to withstand the worst of the winds that whipped 'cross the mountain, but even Dotharan had their limits. He was by no means a introvert or a loner. When you lived in a khalas, you were never alone. Withing a few lengths from you would be another wolf, or even a slave. The wolves of this pack, however, were scattered, clustered up towards the mountain where Zoratto dare not trek.

His lonely vigil near the borders eventually ended. Zoratto, after a bitter wind crept into his den one night, arose and stalked towards where he thought Alastor's den was. The Dotharan shoved his nose into the den, grunting softly. @Alastor?

Since having decided to stay within Aesop’s den, not a single night had gone by in which he’d felt the bitterness of winter creep along his skin. Yet, by sharing a space, he had also realized how, at times, he wished to be alone. Not for long intervals of time, of course, but there had been a night here and there when he’d wanted to sleep alone, stretched out without having to worry about disturbing his partner. For nights such as those, he’d dug a den out for himself, which is where he’d been when Zoratto had found him. With his back to the entrance and his eyes heavy with sleep, he’d almost ignored it when a voice had spoken his name. After realizing whose voice it’d been, however, he’d rolled over onto his stomach and blinked, staring at the masked face of his friend. To see him atop the mountain had been a peculiar thing, but not in a negative way. He was glad to see him, actually, which the thumping of his tail against the earth would likely convey.

“Zoratto,” he’d returned with a yawn, followed by a sheepish smile. “Did something happen? You’re on the mountain!” There had been no possible way for him to keep the excitement out of his voice, so he hadn’t even tried. The Greek had made sure to keep quiet, though, not wanting to cause a commotion and risk waking up the others.

His trek up the mountain was gut wrenching at best. He was not used to uphill climbs —hills he could deal with, but sheer rock faces? Never. The chilling winds did not help him much, pushing him to find Alastor's den quickly. The moment he found it, he moved inside. Zoratto had no qualms to immediately curling up against Alastor's body, laying his neck over his side and nuzzling his nose into his shoulder blades. Cold, He grumbled, hoping Alastor would not push him away.

Taken aback by the sudden invasion of his den, he’d ended up staring at an empty space for a second or two too long. As he’d felt the other curl up against him, he’d blinked, then pulled his ears back as his skin began to heat up beneath his fur. Without thinking, he’d pushed himself to his feet and began to carefully maneuver through the cramped space. He’d neared the mouth of the den, but, despite having appeared as if he might, hadn’t exited. Alastor had instead laid back down, his back facing the opening to better keep out the cold. Whilst it might start to bother him after a while, he would say nothing about it, wanting to ensure that his friend stayed warm and comfortable.

Whilst Zoratto hadn’t hesitated prior to laying his head on the Greek, Alastor couldn’t bring himself to act the same. After settling on the side closest to the exit, he’d not reached out to lay any part of himself over his friend, uncertain of what would be welcomed and what wouldn’t be. He’d left the younger male to decide how close they’d be, not wanting to cross any lines that he shouldn’t. “You can come here whenever you need to,” he’d said in the meantime, a nervous edge to his voice. Always had he been the friendly sort, but sharing a sleeping space with someone else wasn’t something that he’d done often—but that might be because he’d never really had an actual den prior to Moonspear.

How long had passed, he knew not, but eventually the Greek had found himself with his head resting on the back of his friend. There the two rested together, Alastor having drifted off to sleep only moments after he'd relaxed against Zoratto.