Cedar Sweep horse with no name

@Ambrose

Trees stretched out overhead and the woman cloaked in shadow seemed to melt into the shade that was cast beneath the boughs. Her pace was swift and her gaze swept from side to side in search of anything that might cross her path. The scent of fall was thick on the air, as though it lingered just out of reach and right around the corner at the same time. Nights had gotten colder and while the days still showed signs of summer heat, Ginsberg was no stranger to the premise of seasonal changes. It would not be too long before the first snows would fall and leave the earth cloaked in a glistening blanket of white. Those were her favorite months. Prey was scarce and the world seemed as though it was not capable of sustaining even itself. Still, she thrived in such an environment.

Dappled on the floor of the wood was an array of golden sunlight that seemed to glitter through the leaves in the trees. Gin glanced upward and drew her sea green gaze along the underside of their reach. She almost willed them to fade to yellow so that they could prepare to fall. The wildling wanted only to feel the crunch beneath her feet as she passed. Not far from where she was, a creek babbled and cut a path through the wood before she noticed the jutting mountains that stood just beyond that. It seemed her path would be stopped short.

Time was up. That meant he had to meet up with his no-good brother and deal with being mocked and belittled for screwing up a simple bet; but it hadn't been that simple, it had been a monumentally impossible task that he had foolishly agreed to. That was just his style and Bruges knew it. He knew he could get Ambrose to do all sorts of things if his pride was on the line, and maybe that's what had Ambrose so frustrated now.

He'd spent the month patrolling, gathering for the caches, healing from his injury — and to think after all of that work, he'd lost a bet and an ear! Yeah, he was legitimately pissed off. He needed a break, and after briefly telling Niamh of his plan to scout outside the territory for a change, he left.

It wasn't a permanent thing, of course. Ambrose meant for it to be a day trip so that he could clear his head and see something different. There were only so many hours one could spend visiting the same lake, or peeing on the same bush. This is how he found his way to the sweep; he had been running for a while but decreased his speed to something more leisurely when he came upon a small creek.

As he stopped to drink, he saw a silhouette looking beyond the water's lazy pulse. At first he thought maybe it was Bruges but that was a fleeting thing, sharp like a beesting, and Ambrose realized it was actually a stranger. He was still out of breath from his travels so he said nothing, just settled in and refreshed himself with the crisp water.

Over the sound of the water and the whisper of wind through the trees, Ginsberg could not have determined whether or not she was alone. Her ears swiveled atop her skull in hopes that she might find a means of keeping a watchful eye on her back. Had it not been for her paranoia, and the consistent reminders from her mother to never let her guard down, Gin would have continued on her way without ever having taken note of the stranger beneath the boughs of the trees. Instead, she turned her skull sharply toward him and her nostrils flared in surprise. The dark fur along her neck and shoulders rose upward and stood like quills along her back. The flash of her sea green vision was latched to his dark features with savage intensity before she forced herself to relax.

It was in those few moments that she searched his frame, noting the rising and falling of his lungs in his chest and ribs. He had been running, which caused her to believe that she might have been being chased. There was a moment that she thought to flee, knowing that she was not nearly as winded as he seemed to be. Instead, she stood her ground and met him with a flash of her eyes. Ginsberg could not be afraid of a man; she vowed that she would never do that. So, she waited to see if he would make a move or if he would leave her there.

There was something unnerving about the way the stranger looked at him. There was a wildness there that he wasn't used to, and he realized with an idle thought that he had gotten too accustomed to the look of the pack wolf. Pack wolves seemed much tamer by comparison, more relaxed, well fed, and sociable. Of course, Ambrose had no idea if this person was a social creature or not — but she looked so at home here in the wilderness that it made him feel like an alien touching down on a new planet. Maybe he should've backed off and called, I come in peace! But he was still catching his breath.

At the very least this woman would serve as a distraction from his recent failings, and that was something. Ambrose knew the old adage — don't put your dick in crazy, — but his heart was still racing from his run and he couldn't really keep his mind out of that particular gutter. She was an attractive sort of thing, but her wildness kept him from acting on impulse, thank god. Rather than sauntering closer and trying to charm her with some half-baked compliments, he waited until he could breathe regularly and then he took a step back, tossing his stupid hypersexualised thoughts out of his head.

Sorry, probably spooked you, he started, and flashed a cheeky smile as he settled back on his haunches. Wasn't my intention. Just wanted to stretch my legs — but I guess you saw that, he took a deep breath as his heart rate finally settled and then shook himself off, his windswept coat becoming a mess of dishevelment as Ambrose worked the last of his adrenaline out of his body.

“Trampling around like that, you’ll spook half the wood,” she returned with a smirk toying at the edges of her dark lips. It was wise of him to have kept his distance while he worked to settle himself down. Though she wasn’t worried about him overpowering her, she still remained wary. Her mother had told her that men would lure her in with their charm and their strength, but she could be just as strong on her own if she had the right mindset. Gin wanted nothing more than to prove her right. There were days when she felt as though she hadn’t done enough, but standing there in the cedars with a dark stranger peering back at her… well, the shadow felt she had done more than most her age.

Drawing her tail from one side to the other, Ginsberg drew her skull upward and traced the outline of his body with an open evaluation. He was swarthy and tall with thick fur around his neck that seemed to sprout into faded hairs of dirty blonde. She’d never seen markings like that on another wolf, but that wasn’t what was interesting to her. It was the shimmering blue of his gaze; he almost appeared blind. The way that his gaze roamed her suggested that he was far from it. The dark wildling remained steadfast in her stance while he explained that he’d been stretching his legs, but he was sure she’d noticed that already.

Nodding her head once, she exhaled in a soft scoffing sound. “Do you always take to running yourself ragged when you stretch your legs?” she inquired with a tone that hinted at playful, but there was no definite way of determining that. The swarthy male would simply have to take the risk, or leave her on her own. Ginsberg didn't mind much either way.