Dragoncrest Cliffs wrap your hands around my throat and put me to rest

The fight with Rusalka was over, and as far as Tux was concerned, they had won.  Maybe later, after that thread is complete there will be more information for a lengthy and insightful expository paragraph I'll edit in here.  Anyway.  They had killed at least one of Rusalka and had lost none of their own, including the captive (presumably) so they were +2 / 0.

The battle had changed him in ways he had yet to fully realize.  All he really knew was that he wanted to protect Drageda, driven by the same instinct that had led @Blixen to ask Heda to be cheka.

First and foremost was checking up on @Aure.  She was his recruit and therefore he felt personally responsible for her contributions (which in his own eyes, had been lacking).  He set about the territory with a determined strut, bound to find her eventually.

The war was over—whatever the hell all of it had been. To her, it had been a whirlwind, a raging, ferocious thing; and so she had gone to Rose during it all, allowing her direction and order overwhelm her frenzied mind. Until today, it had effectively shut out how all was faring, and all those she worried for. Malliadh, Easy, Verx, East, Tux...

...Who was headed for her, as she came from Rose’s apothecary; her own eyes wary and expectant for some other patient. Aure turned herself in his direction, flourishing her tail in greeting, “Tux. How have you been?” Bright eyes, more suited for the stars, swept along his burly frame in search of ailment.

This might be a stretch but I'm going to presume he was mildly injured during the fight and will be staying vague on the specifics.

He has had his eye on Aure since the day she'd pledged herself.  It was curious, how he felt about her — the last time he could recall someone being interested in the same things as him (other than Ephraim and his weather-related interests) was Sequoia.  He still did not know how to sift through his own feelings towars the natrona; while she had stayed in Drageda she had been the closest thing he'd ever come to a crush, but now that she had turned her back on the Drakru, she was nothing to him.  He'd shut her out, and he'd shut her feelings about her out, too.  But now they were back, and they were inappropriately directed at someone else.

She was not where he expected her to be, but she had done little of that since she'd been permitted into their ranks.  With a demanding chuff, he drew her attention to himself and marched towards her, tail wagging in a neutral-leaning-friendly manner.  Hei, he says, I'm okay.  What are you doing?

lmao that’s chill, we can just come back and edit stuff later

Ears flickering at the Tridasleng, she gave him another look-over before stepping closer, a faint crease in her brow. “I am helping ze opkepa, but... you are hurt?” she scented the coppery tang of a new wound, somewhere on him, and looked back up at him from her inspection. “It was what I’d been able to do, during ze war.” And all she had wanted to pursue before then had been stilted; so far, she’d only been able to go ranging once.

A glint of frustration because of it murmured in her gaze; if there was one thing she despised more, it was being kept, by some outside force, that kept her from learning. Growing. Adapting. ”Still not what I’ve been longing to do—despite ze ethics healing has taught me.” The she-wolf, usually so whimsical and starry-eyed, had in that moment returned to who she’d been when Tux had first met her—willing, if not now a bit perplexed. And restless, to feel the world spinning under the force of her paws. It shone so starkly in her gaze, set upon him.

He watches her and stiffens as she steps closer, his lip raising as his tail went arrow-straight as it continued to wag.  He does not shrink back from her presence but it takes a moment for him to calm beneath the way she looks at him.  Yes, he says simply in response to her, allowing her access to the war-wounds that he was so proud of.  They were minor, but they were his and he'd wear them like a badge of honor.  He got them defending his homeland, and there was nothing greater than that.

I can fix that, if you fix me, he says.  Come with me on a trip.  He settles back onto his haunches, expectant, as if he is certain she won't turn down his demand offer.

She watches the way he practically fluffs up at her observation, slim brows raising and lashes drooping in an almost unimpressed manner; but the faint curl of her lips aid otherwise. "If I fix you up, do you promise not to cry?" she teased, her simper becoming impish. Moving away from him, she beckoned him to follow her, the plume of her tail vanishing into the warmth of the apothecary.

She still meant to find something to treat him with, whether he followed her or not. Sifting through the haze of breathlessness from the evening before, if she was right, she'd been told that cobweb was meant to stop bleeding; snagging a wad of it, and a bundle of oak leaves for good measure. The pale she-wolf then busied herself for a few moments, focused and fleet, before she brought the webs and poultice of to him.

"Tell me of this trip, drăguţ," settled in front of him, dabbing lightly at wherever he was raw, her eyes flickering back up to him; her work a tad clumsy, definitely without an opkepa's finesse, but she at least wanted to be sure that everything was being secured. Young as he was, he'd almost grown into the same heft as some of the other dark kru she'd come to know. For a moment, her thoughts drifted to one in particular, and her muzzle twitched. She simply hoped that heda's son wouldn't come to be as... brandishing.

He bristled with impetuous rage, pulling back inky lips to reveal the alabaster weaponry sheathed beneath.  A warning snarl comes low from his chest as his stare turns hard.  Drakru don't cry, he asserts viciously, purporting this with absolute authority (despite the statement being untrue).  Still, he was compelled to follow her into Rose's apothecary and ducked his head as he came in, taller now than he was the last time he could remember coming here.

The red-hued woman had tried to teach him about the healing arts once, although he had retained precious little of the information.  In fact the only thing he remembered was incorrect — when she'd pointed out one plant as she described another.  Since he knew so little he trusted Aure implicitly, but when she came close he froze.

Nobody outside of his immediate family had ever touched him before, and although the medic's ministrations were professional (if not a bit clumsy) but they still stirred something within his poor hormonal body; his cheeks warmed beneath his fur as his heartbeat quickens, and he ushers the conversation on to focus on something else.

Drăguţ? he repeats with relative ease; being billingual has allowed him some lingual adaptivity.  What do you wish to see?  He could take her to the mountains, the plains, show her the wonders of the wilds.  I can take you there.

At him inquiring over the little tidbit of word she’d dubbed him, she’d simply nodded and shrugged, as if it were meant to be taken as thoughtless fact and nothing more. Surpressing another smile, she leaned forward to pack the webs over poultice; and then she was rising, clearing the remains of her small task and stepping away momentarily.

”Everything,” her voice wandering back towards him. As her muted paws dusted along the cavern’s floor, she lended, ”and anything that is south of here. I’ve been further down ze coast, truthfully, and I’ve been longing to explore ze mountains once more.”

Had she known his hormonal nature raging beneath his young pelt, she might’ve not given her thin, hind legs a luxurious and much-needed stretch, rolling her delicate shoulders on her way back to him. But she didn’t, so, how bout dat? ”There’s still so much I want to see. So much I don’t know... so much I must find.”

She didn't enlighten him to what that word meant, and his frown deepened.  If it had been the other way around, with her not understanding Trigedasleng, he would've elaborated for her.  It reminds him that she is an outsider, a fact he'd rather forget.

Everything, she says, and his lips tighten, his stomach squeezing.  She elaborates quickly, but he's still unsure if he can show her everything.  There is a lot of land south of Drageda, and he hasn't been very far himself.  But he won't back down now.  He made a promise, and she was his Brana.  In his head, her success directly corresponded to his own; he wasn't going to let her down, but more importantly, he wouldn't let himself down.  

Then I'll show you, he said as if it was settled.  He'd tell heda he wanted to take her to the mountains.  With two of them, they'd be safe, and he'd gone on trips like this before.  Meanwhile, he'd get to work through whatever weird feelings were causing him to be unnecessarily distracted.  Maybe he'd even get it to go away before they came home.

She stretches, thin shoulders rolling in waves in front of him.  What he feels is more base instinct than anything else, but it urges him to stand and steady himself as his stomach turns in knots, ears faltering slightly.  There's something about her shoulders that bothers him.  He grits his teeth.  What are you looking for?  Drageda should have all she needs, he thinks.  But if there is something here that she lacks, I can help.

’I can help.’ She has no doubts that he would. But would he? When it really came to the time of doing so?

She fell quiet, and for a moment the frenziedness she’d spoken in faded, as the curve of her fine neck listed. The graceful set of a jaw worked, contemplating. She’d only ever told one Drakru of who she sought, and why; her now-bleary gaze went to the great redwoods. Her logic, now so much clearer than that eve, questioned the memory. Only something heavily-lidded within her  answered, thrumming lower.

She almost forgot to exhale, and she did so, soft and shakily. Focusing herself on her fellow rauna instead of the roguish cheka, Aure breathed, ”The brother who I lost is who I seek.” The she-wolf leveled her pale eyes at Tux, a crease deepening in her brow. ”It... is a long story. Should heda allow us to away, I will tell you more. All.”

After a moment, she came closer again, giving a slight motion with her chin towards him, something impish and covetous tugging at her lips. ”If I tell you what drăguţ means, will you tell me what ‘bounkola’ is?”

He wonders what it's like to miss a sibling so much.  He wonders if like Kiwi, her brother turned his back on her.  His brow furrows as he processes it, lip flattening.  He doesn't have anything kind or supportive to say.  Perhaps when they leave and he gets the whole story it will be better, but all he has known is those who have left willingly and those who have allowed themselves to be kept away. 

Yes, he says, it means white. He wonders where she picked it up but he doesn't concern himself with it, instead deciding to stare at her as she comes closer and trying not to glance at her shoulders.  Your turn.

Oh. Her muzzle twitched, possibly for the third time, her thoughts becoming squint-eyed and sly and almost mischief-making. She wasn’t all too disappointed, but rather prowlish. She looked back towards Tux, her gaze so much more forward and avid. ”My word means ‘endearing’,” She simpered, a feline smirk drawing the corners of her mouth up. ”For all your ferocity, drăguţ meu, you still are so delightful.”

An airy, low laugh left her, and she was turning for the entrance of the apothecary, leering back at him. ”Now—shall we make our farewells, Tux?”

tl;dr Aure calls him cute & this is short bc i have to go!! archive it if u want after u reply, I’ll ttyl<33

Oh, he says breathlessly, feeling like the air has been sucked straight from his lungs.  He stares at her, blinking, before he looks as if he wants to draw a step closer and stops himself at the last second to sweep his broad paw across the ground instead.  

She turns away from him and his eyes draw to her shoulders.  He doesn't understand why they are so enticing to him, or the space between them and her neck.  He draws his tongue over his lips and swallows, caught momentarily spaniel-eyed as his voice catches in his throat.  

Yeah, he says, voice betraying his youth and cracking on the last syllable.  He repeats it with more weight and confidence in an effort to snap out of -- this, whatever this is. Um, yeah.

He begins to walk, trying not to concentrate on the agitation between his legs, and quickly makes to depart in search for Blixen.