Dragoncrest Cliffs Pay these dues and wear down these bones

one more for the storm!

The ocean was making her rage known and it was magnificent.  Rosalyn pressed her back against the cliffs and watched the lightning flash.  Her gaze was distant, but she found a sick sort of comfort in the storm despite the bit of rain that still found her in this unsatisfactory shelter.  She could have moved to the mouth of the cave entrance, but that would involve mingling with her captors.

Slowly she stepped out and allowed the icy rain to run over her.  It was worth it to be closer to the water, and to allow the pounding of the waves to drown out any other thought.

She was fiercely beautiful and knew it, too. He had been watching her from the mouth of the cave. She was older than he usually fancied but it didn't show; she had the kind of spirit that was young and wild forever. He followed her movements as she let the rain ripple over her pelt, heading into the storm rather than retreating from it.

Slowly, he emerged, a colossal shadow from the cavern. He walked slowly toward her for no reason other than to get a closer look, stopping a few paces shy of where she stood. His bright, bi-colored eyes cut through the chaotic darkness, fixed on her. He did not mean to intimidate, only to observe.

The storm masked the male's approach, but she had grown used to being observed.  When she finally did notice him, it wasn't with alarm, just a slight hint of regret.  She would be bothered after all, and by this one of all of them.

Here for a swim, I assume.  The water looks perfect. She intoned without looking at him, though she allowed a small smile to grace her features.  Two directions she could take here, and the choice was obvious.

More of the sarcasm from the sound. Any more and he'd have to cut her tongue out, which would be a shame; she had a nice voice, all things considered. He wasn't much in the mood for that sort of violence. Truthfully, he wanted to get to know the woman that had so boldly squatted in territory already claimed. That was gutsy, no matter what side you saw.

Oh, yeah, I'm tempted, Vercingetorix shot back, pitching his voice over the maelstrom. Unfortunately, I gotta watch your ass, so I'm not allowed to have any fun. A mock pouting expression on his face, he shook out the excess water from his thick pelt, blinking rain out of his eyes.

He lifted his head, surveying her with a quizzical expression. How long do you think it'll be before they come for you? he asked, half-rhetorically. I thought your gal pals would be breaking down our door by now. Yet here we stand. The rain fell between them for a few moments, a rattling, toneless soundtrack to their silent tension.

Least it's a nice ass to watch, she answered back, flicking water from her tail as she did so.  Some fun to be had there, I'd think.  She was casual, but there was a slight note of interest in her gaze.

It faltered only momentarily when he brought up home, and she laughed a bit ruefully.  They won't come.  Maybe one.  But what could she do?  A silent apology to Erzulie, who was easily worth twenty Dragedas.  Caiaphas was an alliance of convenience, and this is hardly convenient.  

She wasn't sure there was truth to her words, honestly, but she wasn't sure there wasn't.  Her comment on the siren was real enough, and that alone allowed her tone to speak honesty.

I like a woman who knows her worth, Vercingetorix responded, gaze lazily drifting toward her posterior before settling on her face. In all regards. He came the slightest bit closer, a step or two, though it put him slightly off-kilter from where he'd been. A step here, a step there. . .

His ears flicked in interest, if only casual, at her mention of Caiaphas and the uneasy alliance between the two of them. There is no convenience in that type of alliance, he said, shaking his head. Either they've got your back or they don't. You shouldn't have to put up with anything in-between. Verx lifted his chin. So why go natrona? Drageda's a great friend to have and a terrible enemy to make.

He glanced toward the sound. Sounds like Caiaphas is just terrible, all around.

I'm sure you do, she thought with some amusement.  Her earlier rancor is gone.  She has a goal now, and that goal requires that she not think of this man as an enemy for the moment.  Where that might lead she doesn't know, but she'll do whatever it takes, and she can't feel guilty about that.  She learned to separate the physical from what she and Erzulie shared long ago.

Drageda has rules, far too many for my taste.  I'm not a woman who likes chains. I'm surprised you wear them so well. She looked at him with interest, then cocked a small smile.  Horrible she may be, but with Caiaphas, I do as I please.  So it had been in Saltwinter at least.  Contribute what you could, but no requirement of fealty or promise of death on departure.  She'd not liked that about Smokestep's captaincy either and made no secret of it.  No one tied her if she didn't want to be tied.

He chuckled, the sound dark and throaty, and took another couple steps closer to her. Well, you see, there's chains and there's chains, he teased, eyes dancing over her lovely face. I don't fight for Drageda because I feel chained to them. I fight for Drageda because they're damn fine wolves to be beside, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Duty isn't chains, fanas.

Vercingetorix drew close enough, then, to reach out and press his muzzle against the shell of her ear. He knew he was entering dangerous waters. He mostly didn't care, for he knew pretty well how to steer his way out of them.

Caiaphas doesn't give a fuck about you, babe, he whispered, ruffling the soft fur there. She'll turn on you without a thought. You're nothing but a little pawn in her little game. I feel like that's the kind of chains I wouldn't wanna be trapped in. He let his teeth graze her chestnut lobe, oh so gently, then pulled away, looking down and waiting for her response.

He was pretty sure he had a semi now, but whatever. He could go hump a tree later, he supposed.

He explained his take, but she didn't see it.  Fine wolves didn't need to set parameters on loyalty.  They held it because they deserved it, not because death was promised otherwise.  But, as with Smokestep, she figured their views on that were set hard.

Suppose we'll agree to disagree, she replied, and she didn't pull away when he pressed in.  She needed to find out what manner of wolf he was, and if his loyalty would prevent any... distractions.  Right now things seemed promising.

Who's to say she's the only one playing? Rosalyn murmured back, then slid over to press her side along his own, tantalizing.

His breath came through his teeth, weak and shuddering. He tried with all his might to focus on anything other than the heat of her body against his--like how cold the rain was. Yeah. . .nice, cold rain. Fucking cold. Ah, good old shrinkage. Does that exist in canines? Emily's not Googling that.

We're all playing, he muttered, pulling away from her and giving her a level stare. Just some of us give a shit about the people we play with. You're in control. You're in control. You're in control.

His eyes were open, hollow, as if you could see right down through to his soul. Maybe she could. It's too bad you're natrona, Verx remarked, lifting his chin. All the good ones are traitors.

He turned and walked away, heading for the quiet and shelter the mouth of the cave provided.

Yeah, cold water didn't do shit tonight.

Sure you do, she thought somewhat condescendingly, but she simply watched as he shifted, mood quickly going from warm to frosty.  As if any of them gave a single shit about her.  Damn.  Perhaps she should have played it closer.

This pack's loyalty was fanatical.... she had seen that firsthand. But nothing was unconditional, and no pack was flawless.  She would find a way out of here.  It just may take a while.

If you change your mind, you know where I'll be. she called after casually, though she watched keenly as he disappeared.  Not exactly a successful encounter, but an interesting one to say the least.