Sequoia Coast poptarts are ravioli

The few days she needs to give her leg a rest aren’t... going according to plan. She’d wanted to get back to Drageda so she can rest properly, maybe have Portia look at it, but the limp slows her down and... is the swelling worse? Furi sighs as she trots along, finally freeing herself of the forest and out into the open. The limp is more pronounced, having put several days of wear and tear on it. Perhaps she should have just rested a few days in the middle of nowhere but the disadvantage is too great. 

At least she’s coastal and... sorta knows where she is. 

The sound of waves in the distance finally reach her, the salt rests heavy in the air, and she releases an audible sigh and resists the urge to collapse. To her left, she can see the stony tangle in the distance and the overwhelming sense of relief takes over. She’s not far from home, at least—home, she snorts—and she feels the bit of tension left over in her chest. Going back means possibly facing the problem and, to be honest, that’s the last thing she wants to do. 

You always run away.

Blixen’s voice in her head does nothing productive and instead of allowing her return, she veers off a little north, limping along until she can see the great expanse of the ocean. The cliffs are not visible where she stands and she searches for cover in the dunes, deciding she needs to rest before going any further.

Though he may have seemed it in many ways, Artaax Drakru was by no means an idiot. Not much phased him, but that was not for lack of noticing the things that got reactions from others. He may never have outwardly acknowledged the tension in the other yearlings, or the sadness his sister masked with irritability, but that didn't mean he was not aware of it. Something had happened. He didn't feel any need to ask about it, but he was watchful for its manifestations in her and in the others.

It was for that reason that Artaax had gone so far from Drageda's borders that day. While he expected Blixen to cope with her sorrows through aggression and general bitchyness, he expected Furi to cope with hers by wandering way too far from home. Since that often resulted in her getting herself into trouble, Artaax had taken it upon himself to hunt her down when the number of days since her departure began to count too high for his liking.

When he found her, Artaax was gratified immediately both in that he'd tracked her down successfully and that she had clearly gotten herself into trouble. There was a limp in her step that told him all he needed to know. With an exasperated (and maybe.. relieved?) sigh, he picked up his pace into a canter across the cold, damp sand until he reached her. He stopped a few feet before her and looked wordlessly at her - a question quite obviously written upon his ever calm face.

What did you do now?

She does not see his approach at first. The wind blows in the opposite direction but the air is much too thick with salt and sea spray to really to be given any advantage. Glad to be back, she continues on the search but each step becomes more pronounced than the next. If she could suck it up and get home, everything would be easier. She doesn’t have a den of her own, and she doesn’t have one to share with anyone else—and Hougeda isn’t an option for her at the moment—but she can still find somewhere to rest for a while and give a chance for her swollen joint to heal.
 
Glancing away from her search, she lifts her head and looks out to sea. From the corner of her gaze, she sees a blur of white and instantly she jerks to the side defensively. Of course, until she sees it’s Artaax.
 
Furi rolls her eyes and releases a pent up breath. The frustration over the last few days doesn’t rest solely on her ankle. Her mind if often filled with Aviana and her scent, the weird feeling it caused in response and, if she moves a certain way and the wind brushes against her face, she can still catch a whiff. And that’s exactly what happened.
 
The wind rolls up from the sea and she shifts, awkwardly shuffling her feet so she can ease some of the pressure on her front paw. Focusing on Artaax, watching as he gets close, she hopes to hide the weird, uncomfortable frustration filling her chest but his face turns accusing and her own hardens, staring back without answering. He isn’t her boss and she doesn’t have to answer for anything.

Furi didn't provide an answer to his unspoken question. There was something admittedly odd about her... More odd than usual, I mean. Artaax didn't know how to place it, but it reminded him somewhat of Wildfire, for some reason... He let the notion go with an internal shrug and frowned at her even more for frowning at him instead of just spilling her guts in an awkward flurry as she usually did. It was annoying. But then again, it also annoyed him when she spilled her guts in an awkward flurry. At least that bit of annoying was one he was more accustomed to. This one was far too much like Blixen, only his fiery sister would've burst out in a temperamental rage by now. Furi just stared...

Finally, Artaax took a deep, slow breath, and decided to be the one to break the silence. "What happened, Furi," he said in that calm, quiet voice of his, blinking at her through mismatched eyes. The scent drifted into his nostrils again as a breeze came in from the ocean, and again it bothered him. But, again, he fell to frowning steadily at the girl, waiting for her answer.

Artaax has never been particularly easy to read. He has all of two emotions: judgment and annoyance. Sometimes it’s hard to tell which one is which. She doesn’t miss the question he asked without words, but found no energy to really answer him. 

But when he voices the questions, she can’t stop the scoff escaping her lips. What hasn’t happened?

She turns to face him, wincing when she puts pressure on her ankle, and realizes that’s probably what he means. 

”I slipped and fell down a steep drop,” she says with a sigh, happy to settle on something obvious. Her mind trails again to Aviana and the conflicting feelings she’s had ever seen, struggling to get the older wolf on her mind. If heat is only really supposed to bother males, why does it her? The question haunts her more than it should but she tries to keep the frustration at bay long enough to deal with the hunter.

Artaax watched her closely as she responded. He saw the wince flash across her face and was swift to note which ankle it was she had stepped down upon almost simultaneously with the jolt of pain. He peered down at that ankle now, redirecting his frown to it instead of to Furi's face. His ears twitched at her explanation - she fell off a cliff. That sounded about right. But it didn't actually answer his question.

The young wolf shook his head slowly, his gaze steady upon her face now as he asked once again, "What happened?" His voice was softer this time, and there was less judgement on his face. Only curiousity, and something one might have called concern if they didn't know him well enough. Or, if they knew him better than any.

He isn’t satisfied with her answer and she looks away, trying to keep from rolling her eyes a second time where he can see. What else does he want from her? Why is he here anyway? He’s never particularly cared what she’s done before, so why is he starting now?
 
“I just said I slipped,” she tells him a second time with a huff, carefully turning away from him so that she can be left alone.

She said it again. Artaax merely blinked and took another breath. He was trying very hard to fight against his inclination to just walk away. If she wanted to be a stubborn, mopey mess then she had every right to get on with it. But he remained, and he tried again.

"Furi..."

not a proof read phone post beware

”Furi...”

Her ears slick back against her head, halting moving further away. The strain against her paw is forced back on her face and she curses it. It isn’t what Artaax is looking for and she stares hard in the opposite direction. Her heart beats heavily in her ears and she’s threatened with tears, breaking down as she had with Ingram sometime ago. She’d felt such relief talking to him, having someone that knows and understand what she really feels.

But Artaax isn’t Ingram.

”What did she tell you?” she finally snaps at him, spinning around despite her injury. She fights through as she starts to tremble, swept up in the sudden anger at Blixen. ”That I fucked up? That I ran away?”

How much more can she take? How much pretending is she capable of before she spills over?

Whatever Artaax has to say, she flinches back, tears welling up in her eyes that begin to bubble over. She blinks a few times and takes a breath, trying to steady herself against whatever criticism he has for her.

There it was.

Artaax didn’t flinch as the proverbially dam broke and the waves of Furi’s emotion came battering against him. He was still as she snapped at him and flung angry words about, speaking of a she that Artaax could only assume was Blixen. He figured it had to be something like this. The facts revolving around Furi’s and Blixen’s recent slides into melancholy were too well lined up to be coincidence. 

”She didn’t tell me anything,” he replied, calm as ever, as though he were not speaking to an angry, crying girl but to a superior about the weather, ”You were gone too long.” It was not exactly the most illuminating of explanations, but it was what he had to offer. He had known something was wrong not because Blixen had uttered a word, but because Furi had shown him of her own accord, in her own unique way. Artaax was ignorant of a lot - intentionally and unintentionally so - but he was not an idiot. Sometimes.

The yearlong didn’t pry further. He studied Furi as the tears fell down her cheeks for a few silent moments before he stepped towards her. The odd scent of her flooded his nostrils again, bothering him, but he shoved it irritably away as he shifted his position to face the same direction as she and slid to his haunches directly beside her. He said nothing more then - simply sat next to her. It was his wordless way of showing that he was there for her. In spite of the hardness in his manner or the careless, sometimes/regularly judgmental calm of his gazes, he was there.

It felt super weird. He was gonna be pissed if this didn’t help her.

It takes a few seconds to realize Artaax doesn’t even flinch. He stares at her during her outburst and she can’t stop her body from trembling. Being so calm doesn’t make her feel any better. She’d been able to keep everything under control once upon a time but the longer it goes on, eventually she’ll spill over. 

She didn’t tell me anything.

Furi studies him for a long moment, unable to say anything. If she hasn’t said anything, how does he know? Simply because she’d left for a few days? Pale eyes narrow, scrutinizing his explanation but it doesn’t do much. Her cheeks are damp from tears and she looks away, wiping at her face with a paw. 

When Artaax steps closer, her eyes widen and she sucks in a breath. Her eyes dart around and start to take a step back but he moves, turns around, and sits down next to her. Furi blinks a few times during the awkward display of comfort. They’ve never particularly been good friends, he’s rather useless in this department—she’d shut that off during the war—but he’s trying. Maybe he genuinely cares but doesn’t know how to show it. Emotions tend to be a problem in that family. 

Furi is silent for a moment as she glances away, shifting her footing. Then, she lowers her rump to the ground and sits, too.

Furi seemed startled by his move. He had expected this. She was always so uncomfortable and awkward. He wondered (not for the first time) why Blixen had become so attached to her. I mean, her actions against the coastal wolves when that whole Arrille thing had gone down had been kinda neat, but other than that, what was the draw?

So his thoughts went as he sat beside her and she finally settled in beside him. As far as his efforts to comfort her were concerned, this was not actually something he had thought out at all, and so it kind of stopped there. But, him being him, Artaax fully believed that to sit in companionable silence was just what she needed to stop being so emotionally screwed up. It always helped him, anyway.

He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t any anymore questions. She doesn’t feel the need to explain, either. There’s no pressure to elaborate on what she said. Either Artaax knows more than he’s letting on or he doesn’t care (maybe he does in his own way) but she can sit easy. Having someone she knows makes it easier to relax long enough to let her ankle rest. She’d have searched for somewhere secure and look out herself, making it more difficult to feel safe. In the heat of the moment, Artaax has often had her back, and today should be any different.
 
Furi offers him a thankful smile and wave of her tail. She leans over and bumps his shoulder before allowing herself to shuffle downward, sitting sternal but close enough that she’s up against his rump. With a shake of her thick mane, rustling up her most recent adventures, and lowers her head to use her tongue against her ankle to try and soothe the tired ache.

It took a little time, but slowly, he sensed Furi relaxing into his company. He didn't look at her until he heard her head turn, and he glanced sidelong at her to meet her gaze. She smiled, and he responded with one of his own. It was rare that there was ever an actual upturn of his lips when he smiled, and even now it was lacking in his expression. But those that knew him could see the softening of his eyes that told of his pleasure.

Artaax looked away again as Furi began to groom herself. He kept his gaze out towards the sea, simply watching the ocean waves sweep in and away, over and over again. The odd scent was still coming off of her, and so instead of puzzling over why any liked her, he began to puzzle over the scent. There was something else intermingled in it - the smell of... someone else. It was so odd. It bothered him. Still, he allowed his friend a few minutes of peace to tend to her ankle and any other aches or pains she saw fit. It was only when she lifted her head again that he decided to ask a completely innocuous question of her.

"Why do you smell so strange?" he said casually, breaking the comfortable silence between them in an effort to engage in an equally comfortable conversation. He's very naive.

Licking her ankles doesn’t really make it feel any better but it gives Furi some sense of purpose, like she’s doing something to help it. After a while she gives up, not realizing the puzzlement going through Artaax until she looks up and over. He’s still sitting in the same position, her tail resting over his, and acting as a (formerly) silent guard.
 
The question catches her off guard, despite how casually he asks it. Her brows knit together and she awkwardly shrugs, shifting her hips away from him so she can better face him. “What?” she asks, staring up at him a moment longer. “I’ve been gone a few days?” she suggests, and then turns a little to inhale a long breath of her shoulder. Aviana materializes in her mind and her eyes drop to the ground. A quick wash hadn’t really crossed her mind despite a whiff every so often, giving her a painful memory that she’d rather forget more than anything. “I guess I was around some woman in heat,” she adds, trying to sound as nonchalant as she can and not at all like she’d just had her heart broken*.
 
* ego bruised

Artaax shook his head at her first answer. That wasn't it. She was always gone for a few days and she never came back smelling like this. Seemed as though she thought better of it after a beat, for she offered a different suggestion after looking herself over.

I guess I was around some woman in heat.

The yearling blinked steadily at her, mulling over her words. There was something strange about the way she said it that spoke of some inner turmoil... But that went right over his head. What was heat? Something about it sounded familiar. Likely the word had been bandied about while his mother was going through it. Hell, Wildfire may have specifically sat him down and explained everything about heat and he had absorbed none of it. But that was the fact of the matter - he didn't know what it was, and so her response was insufficient for him.

"Where did you find heat?" he asked stupidly, thinking she meant the scent came from a woman (true) that she had hung out with somewhere the temperature was hot (not true... unless we're being metaphorically, and even then it's a stretch).

Artaax is blank for several seconds and she can’t predict what was going through his mind. Is he confused? Does he know what that means? Furi hadn’t known much other than it was a Thing that happened to some of the older women in Drageda. At the time, the connection to children or sex hadn’t really been present but Aviana answered some of her worries and showed her more than she was probably ready for.
 
“Um, no… like…” she pauses, blinking up at him as she tries to figure out how to explain it. She doesn’t exactly understand it herself, having never got to answers many of her questions. “Girls go into heat when they’re older so they can have puppies. Like Heda recently? And your mom a while ago,” she explains, though she feels uncertain, like the information is wrong, but then again, she shouldn’t be the one explaining it to him. “It’s… weird. It smells nice, but it’s confusing,” she confesses, ears falling back against her head and she looks back out in front of her.

Furi corrected him, and Artaax was too puzzled over the suggestion she made to feel any embarassment over his error. Nomi and his mother had apparently both gone through this. That registered now why the scent so reminded him of Wildfire, but surprised him about Thur. He hadn't noticed heda going through heat, but he had not been around either women much during their times. He was too busy training and hunting to pay much attention. Really we should all be impressed that he noticed his siblings were born, but heda had called attention to that specifically so maybe we don't give him that much credit.

Artaax furrowed his brow and leaned over to sniff at Furi's shoulder, wanting to inspect this heat scent closer. It was somewhat pleasant, and quite confusing. His nose trailed down her shoulder along her side and up towards her spine. It was likely an invasion of personal space, but they were wolves - what is personal space. And she smelled so weird.

"Do you think you can have pups now since it's on you?" he asked, still sniffing at her. The idea was a surprisingly pleasing one. Only leaders had pups after all, and he did love the idea of power. It made him feel powerful... Also a pleasing feeling.

Artaax doesn’t say anything at first, contemplating the information he’d given to her. He seems to know as little as, or even less, than she has prior to meeting Aviana. She’d had someone to answer a few basic questions and while she still had more, she wondered if anyone explained anything to any of the younger wolves in Drageda. Furi has been around her parents since she’d been young, missing the opportunity to learn from them. Artaax’s family had been strained over the few months with the missing mother and the strain of their family. But she doesn’t say anything and let’s him try to sort what he can.

After a moment, he leans in. Her ears slick back but she doesn’t move, and instead watches as he presses his nose to her shoulder. Furi isn’t aware how much is lingering in her fur except when she catches the wind a certain way but Artaax follows along her back to take in.

Furi shifts a bit as he trails down her back, watching, and halfway down she turns to put teeth on his cheek. Gently, she nibbles at the base of his muzzle with her incisors; not a warning, or plea for him to stop. After the last few frustrating days, and being rejected by Aviana, it’s a nice sort of comfort, if not a little weird. ”I don’t know. I don’t think so. I don’t think I’m old enough,” she says, letting go of her ministrations. Aviana said when women are two and Furi is barely a yearling.

Whether or not he keeps investigating, she rolls over to her side with feet pointed toward him, but open enough to explore.

It didn’t take much effort for Artaax to forget what he was doing. Or rather, to forget that he ought to feel some social restrictions against poking and prodding and inspecting his friend as extensively as he had begun to so freely. The scent was an intoxicating one, though not enough for him to lose himself entirely to such small minded things as hormones. Instead, he lost himself to curiosity and his need to conquer anything and everything that vexed him. Often he conquered by deciding he didn’t care. This he sought to conquer by understanding it fully, and so his nose continued to trail along her fur as she moved and responded to his touch.

The boy paused only for a beat at the nip against his cheek. He glanced at her face, curiosity written upon it but not objection. It was an oddly familiar, playful move on her part - not the kind that they usually shared. But then again, none of this was typical for them, so he went ahead and nipped at her side, his tongue flicking out gently against her in a hesitant, exploratory motion that he forgot almost as soon as it was done.

It was somewhat deflating to learn that she could be impregnated, but not enough to stop him now that he had begun this little science experiment. She rolled, and he moved, stepping further down the length of her body to sniff at the newly exposed parts of her - areas he had never before explored on another, no less on a woman. The mysteries of intercourse and reproduction were lost on him in the more practical sense of it, but Artaax was not usually one to behave in obedience to his mind. He was a creature more of instinct, and instinct was super stoked about what was unfolding in that moment.

He doesn’t have anything to say, which doesn’t surprise her, but he doesn’t have any more questions either. Not like she had a lot of answers, she barely had a grasp on it as it is and it’s not that great. Aviana seemed to know more than she told her, though not for lack of asking, but her current companion is mostly just as long a she (except she totally got some first).
 
Furi turns a bit more on her back so she can see him, watching as he explores, allowing him to touch her freely. His cold nose touches the thin skin of her belly and the nearby skin flinches to the chill. Is this what Aviana felt, coming across her? She hadn’t freely given her direction, wanting her to explore, but she couldn’t quite get there on her own. Artaax’s movements seem to flow so confidently, without pause or guidance. All their interactions have been strictly business, brief and to the point; this crosses over into unknown territory where everything isn’t so clear.

Furi didn’t move to stop him, which was fortunate as I can’t confidently say that he was stoppable at that point. He was too enraptured now in his ministrations to be deterred except by the most intense of protests. But his friend did nothing to put an end to it. Instead, she shifted to watch him as he explored her, his tongue and nose poking at places his mother would have slapped him upside the head with a frying pan for so nonchalantly intruding upon.

Though if anything, the scent of heat was technically dissipating as time continued to move Furi further from her encounter with Aviana, Artaax was feeling as though it were thickening around him. He moved his muzzle up along her side but paused briefly as the trail he was attempting to pursue was obstructed from him. He lifted a paw to pull at her with a gentle growl, urging her to roll to her belly so he could continue mapping her body, subsequently stepping so that he was positioned behind her in a way that any other intelligent mammal on the planet would have realized was the position, but Artaax just considered to be... well. There’s not really much of anything left in his brain right now, actually.

One brow quirks when he uses his paw to dig at her tight, a low rumble of a growl, she offers him a brief flash of teeth. Whether or not he heeds warning, she still complies. She rolls over onto her back, front legs hooked at her chest and sprawled out the rest of the way down. Aviana’s heat had driven her toward action, to explore as Artaax had. The older woman didn’t offer her anything of the sort but she can’t picture it in the moment, her desire solely being on her partner.
 
Being on the opposite end makes her feel a little more vulnerable, a weird sinking feeling in her stomach, but she doesn’t feel the need to move away. His touches are a mix of warm and cool, whether it is his tongue or nose to make landing. The more her narrows down, however, she tenses, her legs feeling the urge to shy away, but she fights it and forces herself to be still for the sake of curiosity and hope she’ll find some answers too.

Artaax ignored the flash of her teeth. He saw no real threat in it - just a warning that he was well past heeding. She'd need to do far more than that to deter him now, but seeing as she rolled into a position that made herself even more vulnerable, he couldn't help but see nothing but green flags telling him to go. He was happy to oblige.

His mind remained curious and dutiful as he explored her, which left him completely unaware that his actions were no longer driven by his mind. Instinct had taken him and was currently running the show, no matter how in control still he felt, and how in control his movements seemed as he explored. With a soft growl, he reached again with his muzzle this time to nudge her, encouraging her again to move to her stomach so that the ah.. science experiement.. could move to phase two.

He growls at her a second time and nudges his cold nose where he probably doesn’t belong. Pale green eyes narrow in his direction and she hesitates moving for some baser need to defy him. It doesn’t last long and she ultimately rolls back over to her side and then bends her legs beneath her but she does not stay in the ground, lifting herself easily to stand. Furi looks back and turns a little, tail swishing to and fro.

Like Aviana, Furi moves her tail a little and tries to at least pretend she knows what she’s doing. She didn’t get to figure it out with the older woman before she’d been stopped and she’s managed to switch places, and Artaax is a boy. Most of her questions had nothing to do with how it works with males when neither of them were but it doesn’t stop her trying to figure it out on her own. Who does she have to ask, anyway?

After a beat, she glances away to look ahead of her as some nagging weight clicks into place but she does he best to ignore it, not wanting to break the delicate moment with her friend.