Big Salmon Lake outlaw

maybe merc thread?

his steps slow as he pauses near a patch of undisturbed snow, his nose dipping to sniff at it curiously. he leans down, pawing at the snow until it scatters, revealing the hardened earth beneath. the faint scent of something long gone lingers.

huffing softly, he lifts his head again, his breath visible in the frosty air. his ears swivel lazily, catching the faint rustle of branches nearby.

he shifts his weight, his paw pressing briefly into the exposed patch of earth before stepping forward again, his gaze drifting back to the treeline.

come on out, stranger. won't bite. maybe.

A roll in the grass wasn't usually his style, given that his coat would stain and look unsightly, but Marius had enjoyed a night of exploration with one of the coy-mutts native to the area. What else were they good for? His father's court had employed a few for just such a use, and so when there came a chance for it here in the wilderness, Marius took to old habits.

In the morning things were different. The sky was taking its sweet time to brighten, for one thing. The mutt had enjoyed herself and scurried off while Marius had slept; so he woke cold and alone.

As he found his way from their secret rendezvous, he spied a shape near the edge of the woods, sharp and tall, and seemingly familiar.

Ah! So you did not get far after all. Come now back to b—oh. This was not the mutt woman, but some boy, lean of figure and swarthy like a pile of rotting autumn leaves!

Aha, ha. You are not who I expected.

the stranger lifts his head at marius’s call, confusion flickering across his features. he draws up short, dark eyes narrowing as he takes in the new arrival. there’s a guarded tension in his posture.

i’m afraid i’m nobody’s morning rendezvous, he says. his coat, a muddle of dull browns and blacks, bristles slightly along his spine as he shifts his weight from one paw to the other.

his tail flicks once, a snap that could be annoyance or something else.

Tastes shifted over time. Fads would come and go — but attraction, that was a constant. If something looked appealing to a byzantine like Marius, he was keen to have it for himself. Although this was not the mutt he had been toying with in the night previous, there was a certain allure he could not ignore.

This man, tall and dark and feral in his mien, held a power that Marius craved in a way that was deeper, perhaps more profound, than his lust for a woman. He wasn't quite so tall himself — he wasn't suited to living a wholly wild life the way this stranger appeared to. These were things to be coveted.

I don't think you've ever been afraid in your life. A compliment for the man! Look at him, he was the pinnacle of the barbaric.

It wasn't a lusting eye that beheld the stranger, but something appreciative. If Calixtus had caught the glimmer of desire in that split second he would have laughed, slapped his son across the back, and derided him for potential homosexuality.

i’ve had my fair share of fear, he speaks with a honeyed cadence as he draws forth, one paw falling after another. eyes wash over the pale mutt and they draw with scorn, judgmental and beady orbs of malice. he studies marius much as marius studies him: a creature measuring another for vulnerabilities, for worth.

maybe i’ve just learned to hide it well, he breathes out, across the smaller male's face, while gold eyes poke at the handsome features he wears.

his dark coat ruffles slightly in the wind, and he keeps his focus on marius, examining what he can see: the careful way he carries himself, the confidence in his voice. have you ever been afraid? he asks.

The stranger draws closer. This is a common dance between men, too. Comparison. The testing of limits, perhaps. Marius can assume quite a bit more now that they were aware of one-another and so close; he could see there were scars marking the man's flesh, and the sheen of his coat despite its ragged quality and its tangles. It is easy to presume this man is only just a man. The wilderness might have forced a kind of maturation in its own way.

Marius gave a chuckle in response to the man's counterpoint, scoffing. Once or twice, but not because of a man. The quip was derisive of women specifically — like most of the bullshit that fell from Marius' mouth, especially around others of his sex. But I learned not to worry so much.

Above all, having a lengthy roster of conquests was something to boast about. The chance of spreading his genes generously throughout his travels was a by-product of his hedonistic pursuits. From the look of this man before him, it was a potential commonality between them.

You get a taste for the locals? He took a deep breath, grinning. All around them was the scent of the coyote bitch who had spirited away. His attention waned from the stranger (which might've been a bad choice given the harsh look of him, but...) and made a show of shrugging, the equivalent of throwing up his hands.

Women. Fickle creatures.

marius’s words spill out in a flurry of brash dismissal, a cavalcade of boasts about women and conquests. lorcan appears to listen, nodding here or there, but behind that casual facade lurks an edge. there’s a snarky laugh from him, low and brief, as if in agreement.

when marius glances away, lorcan seizes the moment. he lunges forward, strong legs coiling like springs before snapping loose, aiming to wrap the other man in a crushing grip. teeth bare, a flash of white against his dark muzzle, coming dangerously close to marius’s neck—threatening but not quite landing a killing blow.

guess i like a bit of sport, too, he snarls, voice edged with a sardonic amusement.

it’s impossible to tell how far he’ll go—whether it’s all show or something more lethal.

Here it was! That first leap of faith between men. The stranger dashed forward and came for Marius in such an abrupt way that his shrug was bisected; there was the moment of his shoulders raising emphatically, and then the scythe of teeth too-close, and the pale man instinctively shifts forward.

There had once been attempts at lessons concerning combat, war theory, tactics — all of which Marius found too brutal as a boy, and not at all as endearing as other stories he witnessed. As a side-effect of this aversion he was not exactly skilled when it came to these aspects of life — a fact that his father Calixtus found utterly disappointing.

Hey now, I am not a local! He cajoles, although his tone is less charming and more frantic, and he is wheeling around to try and keep this black bastard in his sights. The fur of his shoulders ripples like seafoam.

It was exhilarating though, and Marius could not ignore the heavy drumming of his pulse.

lorcan surges forward, dark fur bristling, a snarl caught at the back of his throat. the moment marius twists to keep him in sight, lorcan shifts his weight, driving his shoulder against the pale man’s ribs. it’s less of a killing blow and more of a test—a rough, jarring impact to gauge what marius might do.

local or not, you talk too damn much, lorcan growls, his golden eye narrowed, teeth flashing in a white arc just shy of marius’s exposed neck. a wild current crackles in the air, that spark of adrenaline coursing between them.

c’mon, lorcan snarls, muscles bunched, pressing forward. let’s see if you’ve got some bite behind all that talk.

im ok with some light powerplay, fyi! let me know if you arent and we can avoid <3