Blackfeather Woods she's the giggle at a funeral
Loner
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#1
All Welcome 

there was deer scent here. it wasn't strong — so it most likely was not recent — but zharille was tempted through the woods all the same. overhead winged one raven and then another in opposite directions. they kept close, likely as hungry as she was. one called out with a klak-klak-klak as it flew, and zharille heard it land somewhere high. the shudder of the branches caused a messy fall of snow.

the wolf sulked along through the shadows for a while longer.
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#2
Walking, walking, walking. It was all he could do. He could turn heel and return home, for it was no longer home. It would never be until Makono ascended the throne designed for her.

Khaba did his best not to travel too far from the mesa, but yet kept far enough of a distance so that none would follow his scent. 

The dark beast hid well in the shadows. It was unnerving, to say the least. And when a crackle sounded from the trees, he could feel an itch crawl up his spine. 

Moving forward slowly, teeth bared, his eyes searched carefully for what was or was not ahead of him in these trees.
silence at the
proper season is
wisdom and
better than any
speech.


Loner
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#3
the ravens were not the only things marked by shadow. something large and dark lurked beyond zharille, moving in her periphery; it was not loud enough to draw her eye but she felt a presence nonetheless, and the fur at the nape of her neck began to bristle.

when finally she came to an impasse (a large tree which had fallen many years ago by the looks of it, moss-choked and rotted in equal parts) she had to stop. the sound of movement finally caught in her ears, and she boofed a curious sound without thinking. her nose wiggled as she tasted the air, and only found the scent of dust (which was odd here, in this place replete with tall trees and piled snow).

her twin-sun gaze met that of two-moons, and she startled back a step.
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#4
In a blink, another appeared before him.

Larger, like him. Colored in many neutral shades. Their eyes, pure like the sun.

Khaba stared back at them, a hinting glint of warning. As of late, he hadn't been the best tempered. Ever since his violent outburst with the hemet, it was almost as if any small thing would to set free an unanticipated feat of rage. It would later be found far too humiliating if he set his teeth upon a total stranger without justified reasoning.
silence at the
proper season is
wisdom and
better than any
speech.


Loner
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#5
they stared at one-another. zharille was not accustomed to breaking away first. being in an unknown place and faced with an imposing stranger, and not only that a male stranger, made her eager to test his limits but not too far. he was dangerous, and he knew he was dangerous; there was an edge to him which zharille rarely found among others.

so, she broke her gaze away first. looking to the trees, then the dirt, and licking her lips quickly, as if coy for the moment. every inch of her was otherwise tense. it was up to the man to determine what was acceptable or not - and she had to be ready for anything.
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#6
She looked one way, then another, breaking their locked attention. Coy, she seemed; taunting, maybe. 

The beastly man was not so fond of this behavior. Temptation to speak another warning crawled within him, but he refrained. His voice had once been silent, only finding itself out of loyalty for one. But that one was no longer present. He could stand the silence a little while longer.

Squaring his shoulders, Khaba's lip drew back against his teeth, showing off the bare tips. 

An inquisitive but stern stare remained upon her, caring not if it was found imposing. The next reaction was something he longed deeply for. For it would determine their relationship here on out.
silence at the
proper season is
wisdom and
better than any
speech.


Loner
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#7
he did not advance towards her, and when she stole glimpses of him there was the flash of teeth, the stare of his gaze persisting. whatever she was doing it was not enough! if she were to run, he might chase. a part of her was thrilled by the idea of this giant running her down - but that made little sense to her, and so she put aside the feeling. he was still a threat.

her head lowered a small amount. she snaked forward as best she could, given her size, and rounded the other length of fallen tree closer to him. here, her tail was low and swaying in the manner of apology and she asked forgiveness with the curve of her figure, even reaching for his teeth so she could huff short breaths at him, the closest she could get to speaking.

not a threat her body said, don't be mad, her body said, friendly, she wished he would understand.
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#8
Slowly, she slithered her away around the tree and towards where he stood. 

Posture somewhat submissive, the other approached, occasionally flaring her breath towards him. But he was not sure of her intentions. He did not mind friendly closeness, but until he was sure this was all she cared for, he would not allow her touch.

Jutting his skull sideways, he nipped at the air, teeth dangerously close to her face and often her ears. 

His body remained firm and well with posture, but his head strained sideways, lips still pulled back and gaze offering that same warning — keep your distance. For now, at least.
silence at the
proper season is
wisdom and
better than any
speech.


Loner
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#9
his snapping teeth made her pull away immediately.

she could not be certain of his intentions either, and preferred not to be maimed, so she kept herself contained despite how close she'd come; now she would not venture to taste his air or search the scents of his coat, and relented, settling back with her head down and body sickled.

her tail bat the earth again, then dragged close to her heels where it remained planted. she was submissive, though there was always room for more. she had not and would not show her belly to anyone; such pride might prove her downfall.
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#10
His warning heard, she pulled away quickly. No longer did her nose pry for his scent. Her eyes were no longer persistent, but found his image occasionally. 

Head leveling, but chin still tilted high, he offered a faint grunt of approval. The change pleased him, thus far.

Now with the openness and somewhat relieved tension, Khaba's silver eyes searched her carefully. He was curious, and his silence asked for more from her. Knowledge and aspirations, whether it was words from her lips or body that answered him.
silence at the
proper season is
wisdom and
better than any
speech.


Loner
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#11
the man had strength, that was clear. the way he held himself was prideful but she saw in him a shadow of herself; that was perhaps too literal given his appearance, but zharille saw what she wanted. he was healthy and rivaled her in size and awareness; he held a commanding presence.

she licked her lips. her eyes remained averted, but she keened a note for him, and pulled back her ears so that she might look smaller. as she stood she raised her head and briefly they were matching in pose - and she made her sound again, and let her tail sway up and then down before he could take offense.

i'm strong like you, she was saying. a rival to his own standing perhaps, or an attempt to prove herself and her wants to him. powerful, that's what mattered. the next time she saw him, she would not be so diplomatic.
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#12
In one instance, she made herself out to be smaller than him; submissive and attentive to his every whim. But in the next, she lifted tall, showing herself off in his presence. Was it that she wanted to be desired, or feared? Which, he could not tell.

Turning, his skull now directly faced her, rather his flank. 

Nostrils flaring, he chuffed deeply. Come here, the sound demanded. She would come to him, not vice versa.
silence at the
proper season is
wisdom and
better than any
speech.


Loner
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#13
he was commanding her again! this time with the knowledge of what she desired; and yet he thought her somehow cowed! no, that was wrong. deeply so!

zharille let her lip lift enough to flash her own teeth, giving a soundless warning.

he wanted her to move on command? no. her spine bristled. she was tense and still, her tail no longer a friendly wag. she chuffed back sharply, you.
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#14
In an instant, their roles had been forcefully reversed. She was now challenging him. But he refused to submit in the way she wanted him to. She would lower herself to him, or this standoff would pursue endlessly.

Testing her, the dark beast did not let even a single muscle twitch. His stance remained firm, form like that of a stoned statue. This was his hint, and the only one she would get. I am not moving. You can either come to me, or this ends here.
silence at the
proper season is
wisdom and
better than any
speech.


Loner
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#15
he was as immovable as a mountain! as stubborn, and perhaps as stupid. that was her frustration speaking, not her logic, not her instinct. he was strong and she did not want to lose that strength. they were equals with their attitudes, and nearly equals in their size.

what would it matter if she relented here? except if she did, they would not be equal.

she gave another rumble, knowing one of them needed to bend lest they both come to blows. she was formidable against other women but it was rare to test herself against any man; so, she had to do the reasonable thing.

zharille grimaced openly but she let her posture slacken, and moved towards him until they shared space, giving in to his demand. she did not have to like it, only perform it.
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#16
Though hesitant, she eventually was compliant. The both of them knew there were limited options on how this could go, and she chose to take the smart route.

Her form fell, head bent forward. Like snake and snail alike, slowly, she lithered closely. Leaning forward, the tip of his nose tapped lightly against her skull, accepting her surrender. 

But he would not leave it at that. In a jostled motion, he lunged forward, teeth gaping to surround the back of her neck. They did not clamp, not vying yet for her blood. He lingered in this position for a long moment, only pulling away when he felt that she had enough time to absorb his act of admonition. She could choose to ignore it, and if she did, this form of mercy would not be shown again.
silence at the
proper season is
wisdom and
better than any
speech.


Loner
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#17
it frustrated her to no end that this man thought himself above her. they were meant to be equals; she was above the women she encountered, and he above the fellow men of his world. yet there was no undoing the clamp of his grip at her neck, or the length of time he held her there in supplication.

once released she gave a huff, and her ears were pivoted back. zharille snaked forward with a defiant reach of her snout towards his chin as if to snap at him, but instead she gave a few licks there, further sign she understood and accepted - marginally.

it was enough to know there was strength in these woods. she would not linger now; defeated in a way, zharille would withdraw with her tail almost tucked, and put the wall of fallen tree between them, then be gone among the trees.

when her time came, she knew where to find him.
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#18
Reluctantly, it seemed, she came forward and offered a few licks to his chin. Though she understood his meaning, he could tell that certainly wasn't a fan. It amused him, almost; but no signs expressed such.

Then when she turned to leave, he was surprised. He didn't want her to go! 

Jumping a forward a step as if he were a playful cub, his teeth nipped for the ends of her tail. Wait! A chuff. But he didn't wait for her to turn and come back to him. Instead, he trailed after, soon waltzing directly at her flank.

She'd found him and made it quite clear his presence was somewhat wanted. So why part now?
silence at the
proper season is
wisdom and
better than any
speech.


Loner
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#19
he gave chase!

she felt the clipping of teeth at her tail and tucked it firmly in place, wheeling back around to stare at him; her eyes briefly wide with shock, then narrow and discerning. her nape bristled.

no! she was saying. not now.

it was not a game she wished for, now. it was not him, not yet. he had humiliated a deeply-rooted part of her and zharille needed time. he had demanded she submit and she had; now he demanded she stay, and it was too much.

she flashed her teeth as warning, once, and with heavy, stiff steps she continued to prowl away from him.
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#20
last post from me!

It was a distorted circle, they traveled. She wanted him, then she didn't. Now she demanded space! 

He began to wonder, then. Would she ever return, or was this the last he would see of her?

Nonetheless, he wouldn't pursue a second time. If she decided to leave, so be it. But he wouldn't wait long for her to return.

As she slowly vanished from view, the man sent a brief howl after her. The only form of chase she would receive this time.

Three sun rises, and three moon falls, It said. Then I will leave this place and you will never see me again. And as it had always been true, he was one to keep good on his word.
silence at the
proper season is
wisdom and
better than any
speech.