Neverwinter Forest soothe

@Raedwulf !!

the whispering pools were cloaked in early sunlight. mist danced just above the calm waters; welcoming, serene. cicero often frequented these pools for the herbs that made their homes here. and to enjoy the serenity of it all, whenever he'd allow himself such a break. 

this early morning was one of those rare exceptions. he'd woken to his leg being more cumbersome than usual; more of a hindrance. and so he sought the pools for relief. the cold waters were a therapy for his limb that wouldn't cure it, but could offer a temporary solution. 

he waded into the shallow pools with a sharp hitch of breath, as the nipping cool water lapped at his legs. slowly carried himself out deeper until the leg was fully submerged and the water lapped at his chest. inky tresses of long fur swaying languidly at his sides, he allowed himself to relax. 

eyes closed, breaths soft and even.

sleep evades the warhound.
he finds himself seeking out the healer man, drawn by some uncertainty. he watches from the edge of the glade, still as stone, mist curling around his legs like ghost-light. he does not often come to these pools—too quiet, too clean—and now was led here by the warm scent.
his eyes narrow, tracing the dark figure wading through pale waters, submerged now to the chest. it is a sight that stirs feelings in him—feelings he has never encountered before. they are unknown. they deeply disturb him.
but he steps forward. driven by something long rooted and ancient. the sound of pawsteps on wet stone marks his approach as he moves to the edge, tail swaying once behind him. raedwulf does not enter the water, but stands near enough that the cool mist kisses his legs.
þū swymst swā bearn, he mutters—dry humor in the low rasp of his voice.

the faint click of claws against stone rouses the healer out of his trance. welcomed by a scent heavy and familiar—and then welcomed by the sight of raedwulf. cicero regards him with a quick once-over, before his lips are pursing. 

he doesn't need to understand the words spoken, when he's able to pick up on the slight teasing tone. "can a man not bathe in peace?" he sighed. though truly, there was only mild annoyance in his voice. 

sharp and tired eyes search for any wounds, as it seems that's how they often meet. but there are none he hasn't taken care of already. the man had come here out of what...curiosity? 

a feeling stirs in his chest then. one he'd avoid. 

the water stirs around him in gentle ripples, the silence between them thick. he breaks it with a clear of his throat, a hesitant glance that flits between the warrior and the pool he stands in. 

part of him wants the man to go away, so that he may bathe in lonesome. but another nagging, annoying part of him wants him to stay. to extend an invitation. 

the latter wins. "are you going to just stand there and leer?" he mused dryly, motioning toward the pool with a soaked paw. should he decide to join or deny the invitation, it would not matter...would it?

the words are strange to him, as always—but the tone is not. cicero sighs like an old man and mutters like one too, but raedwulf hears the edge of teasing in it. maybe even a flicker of welcome.
he watches the motion of that soaked paw, the little invitation hidden beneath the scorn. dark fur trailing with water, sharp eyes betraying more than the healer might like.
the warrior hums low in his throat—almost a chuckle, but not quite. he lifts his head slightly, as if considering the offer… and then, without a word, steps into the water. he hisses softly through his teeth as the cold bites at his joints, the ripples rolling outward as he wades in until the water curls around his broad chest.
raedwulf being careful not to crowd cicero, instead keeping a respectful distance. turning glinting eye onto the lounging man. þū eart ungelīc ōðrum. he hums, then shrugs, turning eyes outward to peer at how the moonlight scintillates off the surface of the waters.

the healer shifts his weight, letting  himself float just a bit further out from the shore. the water ripples and churns as raedwulf slices through it. gentle waves reflect the light of the moon as it ebbs and flows. 

eyes of silver peek through the corners. lingering on the sleekness of the warrior's fur soaked against skin. the curves of muscle that captivates him for a moment or two. his skin feels warm despite the nipping cold, and he forces his gaze to snap elsewhere. 

he does not feel relaxed anymore. in fact, he feels uncharacteristically antsy. flighty. a feeling that only came about when raedwulf was near. a feeling that is getting increasingly more...annoying.

and still, he does not leave. because he does not want to. he does not know why, and this frustrates him. "you are a strange man, with a strange tongue." he exhaled, voice quiet. "i want to learn." 

i want to understand you, are the words he cannot say. 

he does not look to him. he's afraid of what his expression will convey, if he does. "will you teach me?"

raedwulf does not seem to take much notice to the oogling of the man behind him. he instead indulges in the cool of the water, bending head down to nudge at the surface. it ripples in response to his ministrations, and he huffs, cupping some into his mouth. drinking greedily a large gulp.
only turning his head to look when he hears words. his ears twitch, shifting atop his head and the man looks with soft, brown eyes upon cicero. his brow is furrowed, for a moment, and raedwulf wonders if there is something he has done. the man huffs. slowly, raedwulf turns to fully face cicero and looks at silver eyes down his scarred snout.
lēornian, he says gently, then repeats, tapping the center of his chest. lēornian. ic. he touches the man’s chest with the flat of his paw, briefly, not forceful. þū.

cicero, for once, is at a loss. lips pulled into a thin, tight line, typically keen eyes now widening in awe. such a calm and collected man now feeling as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff, pondering if he should hurl himself off or not. 

raedwulf faces him and the healer wishes that he did not. he wishes that the man would not speak to him like this, look upon him like that. brown eyes soft and engulfing and far too curious. as if they could see right through cicero. 

a large paw pressed against his chest, with a touch so gentle it belies raedwulf's strength. his first instinct is to reel away from a touch unwelcome, unprovoked. bark at the man to keep his hands to himself because cicero does not like touch. 

the rhythm of his heartbeat kicks up a notch, heavy and concerning. he prays the man cannot feel it. 

he does not understand the words, not completely. but that doesn't stop him from repeating them, from butchering them with a clumsy tongue and thick accent. 

"yes. lēornian." he exhaled.

raedwulf hears the word repeated back to him. the shape is wrong, the sound heavy, but it is enough. he nods once. ġe. he purses his lips. lēornian.
his paw lowers back into the water. he watches the man’s face; sees the tightness in his jaw, the rise in his chest. raedwulf cannot help but to crack a smile of knowing, seeing the physical reaction the healer man has to his touch. but he does not reach again. after a pause, his voice comes quiet, even. he gestures between them.
lēornian ealle.
wading through the water with ease, the distance between them is once more cut thin, and raedwulf looks headily upon his face. perhaps lulled by the water, or pushed by the night's embracing chill. his head tilts slightly. a question forms—it is not cruel, nor mocking... simply curious.
he taps cicero’s chest, then lifts his own chin slightly. þū, wer? then his paw moves—sharply, but not harsh—to gesture toward cicero’s underbelly. he shifts his weight and gives a subtle dip of his head, mimicking the softer posture he’d seen in some women. the corners of his mouth twitch. oþþe wīf-wer?
his brow lifts. his nose flicks between them, slow. he nudges his own side once with a shoulder. þū lufast weras?

a bated breath is drawn in, sharp and uneasy. no longer the collected, resolute man he prides himself to be, but something nervous. the water churning gently between them as raedwulf closed in—another wild, us ready beat of the healers heart. 

his ears pin with uncertainty, his brows furrowing to convey his confusion. the man's tone thick—almost intimate? and he's motioning to his underbelly, causing cicero to huff. a scoff, maybe, but a weak one. he treads back in the water, wishing more now than ever to understand. 

"i am a man." he frowned. thought certainly not built to move mountains like raedwulf, but he was still very much a man. to be assumed otherwise was insulting! there are no womanly qualities he possesses, save for his size. 

his tail lashes in the water, churning it into waves. heat rises to his cheeks, scathing hot. either with embarrassment or his growing irate. "what is it you're getting at? what are you wanting?" his tone is laced with uneasy accusation.

or perhaps he's misunderstanding. but raedwulf keeps pushing his boundaries, touching him and—

he doesn't know how to feel about it.

the words are sharp. not cruel, but tense. wary. raedwulf reads it in the man's face, the way his body stiffens, the flick of his tail. he does not press further. his own ears tip back. the edge in cicero's voice makes him pause.
wer, he says again, quieter now. þū eart.
he steps back, just slightly. gives the space asked for—not with words, but with tone. he lifts a paw and touches his own chest. ic næbbe irre. he mutters. ic ācsige ānlīce.
a short pause, then—
ic ne ācsige eft.
his head bows slightly, just enough to mark respect, before he turns. not in shame or retreat—just distance. space, for now. but he does look back, loitering, as if wanting for cicero to stop him and ask him to stay. false hope, perhaps? foolish hope, he thinks. raedwulf has no interest in men. he thinks it is deceitful that this one is so feminine and... attractive! it frustrates the saxon deeply.

the tension is thick enough to sink teeth into; unsettling and heavy. unwelcome, as are all the feelings cicero had not anticipated. it was no secret to himself, the fact that he'd always been attracted to men. it started innocent enough; lingering stares, rejecting advances from women. 

it was apart of him, as much as he might wish it was not. and it had been so long since any man had caught his eye in such a way that now...

well, he doesn't quite know how to navigate it. it wasn't like he could ask the man if he too liked men. and even if he could, cicero was to big a coward to out himself in the process. 

but now raedwulf, who's respect and subtle apology soothes the nerves he frayed, is turning to leave. wading through the water and back toward the shore. cicero's frown deepens, brows pinched. a troubled expression as he struggles to decide if he wants him to stay, or if he needs the space being offered. 

"wait—" he sighs. moving after him on a whim. was it remorse written on his face? yearning? 

"you said i could lēornian..." though now, he isn't sure if it's the knowledge he wants, or if it's raedwuld himself.

he stops at the edge of the pool, water dripping in slow rivulets from his shoulders. cicero’s voice halts him.
at first, the saxon does not turn. the healer’s words stagnate between them until he gets the urge to draw breath. his eyes narrow slightly. not in anger. in thought.
slowly, he looks back.
he gestures to his ear. þonne gehīer swā wel.
his paw gestures out toward the world, slow. eorþe. his gaze lifts to the sky. heofon.
he turns more fully now, facing the healer. the tension from earlier has faded to something quieter. his paw dips into the water.
wæter.
he steps forward once, then lowers his head in a slight, respectful gesture. frēond.