Fox's Glade mix two parts jack with two bloodshot eyes

Again his dreams haunt him, lingering like a foul aftertaste even as bleary eyes flutter open to the wintry air and the drowsiness begins to flee. The air nips at his skin with increasing insistence as he rouses, rolling over with a low groan deep in his chest. He blinks several times, finally drawing the pale landscape into focus. Immediately his breath hitches, throat tightening — this isn't home — but he quickly remembers the restlessness of the night, his half-conscious journey past the borders.
He rolls over, stiff limbs protesting the activity every step of the way, and greets the frosty morning with an eye-watering yawn. He stretches his legs out toward the sky, extending each limb fully save the troublesome left rear. It's a satisfying stretch, though it only serves to further convince him that he's not ready to face the day yet. So he rolls over again, flopping onto the side opposite the one he'd slept on with a second yawn. Five more minutes... he silently assures no one in particular, knowing full well he's not on a schedule and not obligated to a damn thing today — but that's kind of a lonely feeling when he thinks about it. Suddenly he wonders what @Midar is doing right now.

It didn't take long before the need to seek out Alarian drove him from his family and over the mountains again. He had an idea where to find him but realized once in the valley that he had no clue which pack was his--not by name or location anyway. But, he knew the other man's scent well and the distinct smell of others that was always mixed with it. He picked up a pack's scent just after coming down from the mountains, but he could tell immediately that it was not the right place, so he continued south to search further. 

The beast eventually found himself in a clearing scantily surrounded by trees. The scent of pack was strong but was so was the scent of his companion. He didn't have to search very far before finding him sprawled out on the ground. He looked like he was sleeping. Midar shook his head and let out a low chuff before coming to stand over the other man. This is probably not the best place to be sleeping, he stated, eyebrow raised as he peered down at Alarian.

He's already dozed off by the time Midar arrives, drifting into another dream easily. The question startles him awake. He flinches, sucking in a sharp breath as he glances up with fur fluffed, but he recognizes the scent immediately. As soon as he registers the other's identity, he settles back down, too tired to be irritated at this exact moment. Probably not, He agrees sleepily, yawning. He makes no other effort to move or greet the male — he's happy to see him, sure, but he's also really fucking tired. Or maybe he just doesn't feel like dealing with the aftermath of last night's dreams just yet. Either way, he's not moving.

He felt bad for startling him, but what if had not been Midar to find him sleeping here. If it had been some stranger here instead of Alarian, the beast would have killed them without hesitation for such a stupid decision. To see him lying there, regarding his question with absolutely no hint of seriousness caused Midar's jaw to tighten in anger. He sat down, releasing an irritated sigh as he moved. Do you not care whether you live or die? he asked. It was a little dramatic, but seriously, did he have no regard for his own life? Even children had enough sense to not sleep somewhere so unprotected.

He closes his eyes again, content to go back to sleep whether his companion sticks around for it or not. Then he hears the irritated sigh, and his good eye cracks open just barely, fixing on Midar with a hint of his own irritation. Not really, He mumbles a little resentfully, sounding very much like a moody adolescent. Why? More specifically, why does it matter so much that the other is interrupting his sleep? He really couldn't care less about some weird lecture on the sanctity of life, or his life in particular, or whatever stick Midar has up his ass about it. He's tired.

Not really? That was not the answer he had been expecting. Midar generally felt like he wanted to live, but mostly because he wouldn't ever want to give anyone the satisfaction of killing him. That's a shame, he said, his voice calm despite the growing anger in his chest. Perhaps I should leave you to it, then. He got to his feet, violet gaze piercing and angry. No sense in wasting my time if you're just going to go off and die doing something stupid. He didn't turn away just yet, giving Alarian one more chance to get his ass up and stop acting ridiculous. He didn't like that the other man had the power to get under his skin like this. How had gotten so attached already? It was confusing, and he could feel his temper slipping from his control.

A familiar fear shoots through his veins like ice at the red-hot anger in Midar's gaze, but he hardly pays attention to it. Instead he's focused on the way the frost in his tone feels like a blow to the chest, hurt spreading over him like warm gushing blood. He curls in on himself, tucking his face out of sight and swallowing back the lump in his throat as he realizes he has no rebuttal. Midar is right. Maybe you should, He says quietly, struggling to keep the hurt out of his tone. He's not sure it works, but he's also not sure he cares. All he wants now is to be left alone; he certainly doesn't want to waste more of the man's time.

Midar could tell his words had hurt the other man and at first, he was glad. He had meant them to be hurtful--a response to being hurt first. He didn't like feeling vulnerable, and he definitely didn't appreciate Alarian's disregard for his own life, so he had lashed out. But, Seeing him curl up and hide his face made his chest tighten painfully. He didn't know what to do. He stood there, frozen with indecision. Part of him was still mad and wanted to leave the other man there in his sad little ball, but another, more confusing part of the beast wanted to wrap around Alarian and whisper soothing apologies in his ear; he did neither. Midar couldn't leave, but he also couldn't apologize. Another flash of anger forced a harsh breath though his nose as he grew even more confused.  

Finally, his overwhelming need to keep Alarian urged him forward, and he lowered his head to nudge the other man's shoulder. He wasn't sure what to say or do now, but the longer he watched the other man's dejected form curled on the ground, the worse he felt about it, and he just wanted it to stop.

He waits quietly for Midar to leave, fighting the warm sting behind his eyes. But the other doesn't leave. He tenses as his lover draws nearer, swallowing back the urge to warn him away. The touch to his shoulder instantly shatters the last of his resistance to the stormy emotion gathering within him, and with a quiet huff the first tears break free. He curls tighter into himself, frustrated. He doesn't even know why he's crying — it's not as if Midar's words are the most cutting thing he's ever heard. And they hardly know one another; why does it matter if he walks away now? It shouldn't. But it does — and maybe Alarian can blame it for now on his sleepiness, his typical morning vulnerability, but later he'll wonder. Right now, though, all he can do is cry and wish he could just go back to sleep.

He was suddenly hit with the salty scent of tears, his chest tightening further at the realization that Alarian was crying. He obviously hadn't thought through his actions before he said what he did. At the time, Midar had only been concerned with his own feelings, and he certainly wasn't prepared for exactly how bad it would feel to see the other man so hurt by something he said. What was more unsettling was the sudden fear that his companion would leave him; it was a level of vulnerability he wasn't sure he could begin to understand right now. The darkness inside him screamed for him to get out now while the damage would be minimal, but he couldn't leave, even if he actually wanted to; the draw was too strong. The last of his anger had fizzled out somewhere between scenting Alarian's tears and realizing he couldn't fight the pull between them. Silently, Midar curled around the scarred male, resting his head on his shoulders and hoping the crying would stop soon.

The last thing he expects is to feel Midar curling around him, having assumed his lack of response would be enough to send the man off. His breath hitches, and his first thought is that he doesn't want this, he wants to be left alone — but that's not true, is it? As much as he'd like to, he can't deny the relief spreading through his chest. I'm sorry, He whispers, blinking away the fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. He doesn't really want to apologize — but he doesn't want Midar to be upset with him anymore, either.

The apology was unexpected but appreciated. He should be sorry for being so careless with his life, especially now that it seemed tied to Midar's life. He didn't care that they barely knew each other; imagining Alarian dying stirred the monster inside. As am I, the beast offered just as quietly. He really was. He couldn't promise it wouldn't happen again, but he could at least be sorry about it when it did happen--once he calmed down anyway. He reached down to lick whatever tears remained from his companion's face, not wishing to see them there anymore as they were mocking his lack of control and the guilt he felt for causing them.

He sighs softly at the feeling of Midar cleaning his face, trying to ignore the hot flush of shame across his face as the tension fades from him almost immediately. Though his companion has echoed the sentiment, he still feels raw and exposed, with prickling skin and a painfully tight feeling in his throat. Even if he could think of anything to say right now, he doesn't think he'd be able to get it out. He closes his eyes, forcing his thoughts away from the current situation; if he can just forget that it happened, he won't have to deal with all these feelings he's far too tired for right now. He won't have to think about the terrifying fact that he really doesn't care if he lives or dies — and he won't have to wonder why Midar does.

He returned his head to Alarian's back once the tears were cleaned. He wasn't sure what to make of the silence from the other man, but he didn't press him to say anything. Midar still wanted to know why he didn't care about protecting his own life, but he was afraid the conversation would just bring them back to the beginning of this whole mess. He had a feeling he wouldn't like whatever answer Alarian would have for him, and he knew it would just make him angry again. He didn't really have much to say anyway; the beast was trying to remain calm, and he felt like he was just barely below the threshold of his anger and one wrong word might send back over it again. He didn't particularly wish to lash out as his companion for a second time today. He pressed closer, adjusting his head as needed but offered no words.

He's content to drift into a state of semi-consciousness for a time, awake enough to stir at a soft call of his name but not quite enough for coherent thought. It's easy, in this state, to forget his conflict with Midar — easy to forget everything, really. So it's awhile before he feels the urge to speak again; escapism has always been his drug of choice.
This is pretty close to my home, It's a casual observation, murmured sleepily when he finally finds the energy to voice it. He wants to ask Midar if he'd been looking for him, but he can't shake the feeling that it's a stupid assumption to make. Surely the man has better things to do — hell, better wolves to do.

For a long time, neither of them said anything. Midar eventually became lost in his thoughts, still aware but not fully there and content to let it go on for how ever long it needed to. He wasn't sure how much time had passed before Alarian's voice broke the silence. I know. I recognized your pack's scent, he replied, shifting his head a little to look at the other man. That's why I came here. The beast hadn't expected to find him sleeping, but he wouldn't bring that up again, even if the thought was accompanied by a flash of irritation; his companion seemed somewhat recovered, and he didn't want to stir things up.

His words were met with only more silence, and the beast wasn't quite sure what that meant. He wondered what the other man might be thinking right now but on the off chance that it might stir things up again, he just let it go. He returned his head to Alarian's back, and they stayed curled into each other for a long time, parting ways once more when real life could no longer be avoided.