Blacktail Deer Plateau Don't let the sun outshine you

Diane came down from Porcupine Ridge without knowing exactly why. Most of the night had gone by without seeing her sleep, and the restless girl found her way past the borders of her home shortly after dawn. Light yawned and spread ahead of her as she went, hours draining as she sought to expend the coils of energy building pleasantly within her as the earth warmed and spring began coaxing everything to blossom. Diane was beginning to feel much like a flower herself; the petals of her mirth were lengthening in bloom, and the stem of her— made entirely up of nervousness and self-doubt— was beginning to pale by comparison to her golden leaves.

Light filtered through the soft, thin canopy, and the woods saw her pass through alternating lengths of shade and warmth as she went. Her thoughts came back and forth too, shifting from the present moment of her movements to her life on the Ridge. Diane hadn't ever thought that she would feel quite so content or at home again. The crippling fear from the destruction of her birthplace had convinced her of such. But the might of her fear had been curbed by the wolves of the Ridge, and here she was feeling as safe as she'd ever felt, in a territory not her own, but so near to home that the safety she knew there was carried with her in a residual effect.

She could not identify what was making her so boundless that day, but she was eager to see more of everything, eager to surpass places she had not before. Since she had been recently working on disassociating rivers, lakes, and smaller sources of water from the vast, unending bows of the ocean, it was easier for her to approach freshwater now. With this rediscovered bravery, she headed for the river bordering the west face of the plateau.

@Goldhawk

Thank you for starting! ^__^

Northeast of Neverwinter's soaring pines, and beyond the hot springs that Goldhawk had tentatively sampled, a sprawling land entered his line of sight, and it was one he'd never seen before. He had ventured further than he normally would, preferring to spend his days patrolling Neverwinter's borders, sparring, training, and of course singing, but the warrior bard believed that he could also be an effective guardian by exploring the lands around Neverwinter. He knew of some packs nearby, but there was still much to learn and make note of. And so on he roamed, his golden coat gleaming all the brighter in the pale sunlight.

Here was a forest much like the one he knew, and touched with the faded hoofprints of passing deer. When his ears picked up the faint trickling of a nearby river, he was reminded of his thirst and made his way towards it. And that was when he saw her. Sleek, supple, and more gliding than walking, an earthbound angel consumed by the sunlight around her. The heavens had opened up a spotlight on her. As he drew closer he saw that she was small and sweet, and — to his eyes — the strands of gold in her coat were more brilliant than anything his own pelt could pull off. And that was saying something: the dapper gentleman was very vain.

He could have stayed and watched her for hours, but then there was the garter snake. It seemed the river captured the she-wolf's attention — she may or may not have noticed the venomous reptile slithering curiously behind her. On the chance that she hadn't, Goldhawk didn't hesitate. Keep up the pace, m'dear, he advised the nameless beauty, but his russet eyes then moved quickly to the snake and stayed there as he began to prowl low and purposefully towards it, there's a sassy little reptile with its eye on your noggin, wot.

Despite the context of the given phrase, Diane slacked her steps in a pause at the unfamiliar voice. Her head turned, eyeing an aurelian wolf as he prowled forward, his focus driven on something behind her. His exact words registered to her then, and the small wolf danced sideways, carrying her weight on her toes as the slim lie of her fur puffed out in fright as she tried to locate the "reptile", he had said. She expected a lizard, something she did not fear, but instead her eyes met the long, pinstriped body of a relatively harmless species of snake, and knowing only of seasnakes (and how fatally poisonous they were), her abrupt desire to avoid it heightened to a near crippling level.

Diane gave out an embarrassingly shrill bark— a squeal, if you would— and she backpedaled further, turning frightened eyes on her would-be savior. She was suddenly afraid for him, but mistook his composed fixation on the snake for the certain skill of dispatching one, and didn't encourage him to stay back. Even though it was her inclination. He simply looked like he knew what he was doing. Instead she offered a concerned cry: "oh, please be careful!" 

She became aware then that the fierce beating of her heart was quickly draining away the flowering happiness she had felt earlier. She had never met one of her siblings, but had heard the story that before her eyes had even opened, her brother had been victim to a seasnake that had slithered in their den and bitten him before it could be killed. This was the story told to all children so that they understood the danger of seasnakes, but the vastly naive Diane wasn't particularly aware of that. She watched on bated breath, eyes wide as she watched the golden knight reveal his level of snake dispensary...

<3

The moment she turned, the young soldier knew her eyes were upon him and he wanted keenly to turn his gaze and look at them. Those eyes... what would they be like? Large, no doubt, with a doe's lashes but an otherworldly wisdom. Perhaps as blue as the sky, if her heart was innocent, or as green as the rushes if the forest was her home. Ah, so many possibilities, and such a drive to look into those eyes. But he couldn't. He was staring down the garter snake, daring it to turn and look upon him.

It was, of course, far less vicious than other snakes that might slither hither, but Goldhawk knew from experience that it was more venomous than common assumption, especially to a girl of her petite size. And, worse than that, its bite could leave a nasty scar. He hated to be so preoccupied with beauty when he prized personality so highly, but there was something buzzy about this time of year, and he couldn't stand the idea of this stranger's beautiful coat being irreparably damaged.

Oh don't you worry, my amiable forest maiden, he reassured her. Yon lubricious serpent has a bonafide Elite soldier on its hands. He prowled closer to it, well, not hands, but... he prattled vaguely. Then he let out a deep growl at the snake to get its attention pointedly off the girl, and it immediately turned and made a move at him. Swift as a lashing branch, Goldhawk dodged to the side.

Diane was mesmerized to say the least. She had seen a snake taken head on, but never had she witnessed this done by a singular wolf. Bothersome seasnakes were dealt with by a crowd, and the activity usually involved usually chasing rather than killing, because outright attacking was often too dangerous, even for a particularly swift wolf. To say she was impressed was a vast understatement for the ignorant girl. But her fear nearly belittled her great impression of him. She couldn't dwell on the way he talked, though something about it kept his charming voice tickling in the back of her thoughts, ready to spring up again once the danger had passed.

The gilded stranger leaped sideways, and Diane flinched even at her distance, anxious for his safety. A small whimper managed to eke out from between her clenched teeth, but it was all the sound she allowed herself. She didn't want to distract him— didn't want to be the cause of a slow, painful death to the valiant "soldier".

With a young girl's fur at stake, Goldhawk was focussed entirely on the battle at paw. Oh sure it wasn't a horde of coyotes storming down from the hills or a family of wildcats seething in from the mountains, but all a warrior needed for a good fight was a good cause. And one scrap of this beauty's lovely form was worth more than he could say. He wouldn't let the snake anywhere near her, and nor would he let it scare or taunt her.

For the briefest moment it almost seemed as if he were hypnotised by the snake, for when it finally caught his eyes he went still and silent, but his golden body was low and poised like a slinking tiger. Then both wolf and serpent moved at exactly the same time. The rattled snake moved to bite his paw, and Goldhawk moved his paw swiftly and in one manoeuvre grabbed the snake by the back of its head.

Its face still stuck out from the side of his mouth, hissing furiously, but Goldhawk held it tight. And did not crush it. For whatever reason, he felt in his heart that the forest maiden would begrudge him a senseless kill.

Had she not been watching so intently, Diane might have missed the clever strike of the canine, who had anticipated the aim of the reptile's ire. She had only ever seen a seahawk so gracefully dispatch the venomous fiends, and the faint squeal she made was part fearful surprise and part delight. She watched the body of the snake write to and fro, its muscles struggling wildly to regain control of its head, but the stranger's grip was resolute— and to Diane's mild surprise, nonlethal.

She tiptoed closer, ears up and nose outstretched curiously, though she didn't come nearer than several feet of the male and his captive. Her tail twitched, and a faint smile crossed her shy face. He was valiant, and merciful, and his gold fur like sun-baked sand reminded her so deeply of home. Swallowing the swell of her emotions, the girl nodded in the direction of the river. "Let's let him go by the water," she suggested gently, nodding her small head in encouragement, before eagerly leading the way.

The snake's lissom body thrashed with (understandable) anger, but Goldhawk was not tempted to bite down on its head. A warrior he was, but he'd never had any intention of killing the creature, and nor could he see any merit in hurting it at all. Yes it had been after the magnificent young thing wandering among the trees, but it had not harmed a single strand of fur on her coat. She had been wandering perilously close to it, and so, it seemed, the reptile had sought to lash out in defence. Well, it could go lash at the river now.

Goldhawk obeyed that lovely voice without a single hesitation, and when they reached the river he lowered the snake onto the steep riverbank so that it couldn't immediately turn and bite him. When he let go, he withdrew his golden muzzle swiftly, but he'd had no need to — it seemed the snake had had quite enough of this adventure, and proceeded to slither away from them. Only once he was sure the lady was safe, he turned to regard her — and his heart leapt a thousand miles as he saw that her eyes were a deep, molten, earthly breath-taking gold.

A gentleman did not stare, and so he stood up tall and gazed upon her in a manner that was admiring but did not seek to bathe her in blinding spotlights. Graceful of visage and gracious of heart? Gosh — sweet maiden, you truly are a wonder among wonders, he observed with profundity.

Diane stood at the golden knight's side, one forepaw tentatively raised in the equivalent pose of a woman hemming up her skirts, and she watched with vivid relief as the snake was successfully released. She watched it go, setting her foot down absently before turning her brilliant eyes on the dashing snake-charmer. She found that he was looking at her too, and a blush blossomed readily beneath thankfully cloying fur. The seawolf's tail wagged faintly, as she turned her muzzle away in her typically flustered way. But she was shocked by what he said next— too self-depreciating to know the truth in his statement. Her heart skipped, leaping up into her throat as her eyes widened marginally. "M-Me?" Her dazed expression turned back to him, everything in her body tingling as she tried to find a way past the male's swoon-worthy gallantry. 
 
"Oh, oh no sir, I— I'm no such thing!" she proclaimed, as always, unable to properly take a compliment. "I mean, I'm not anyone special," she amended in a quieter voice, the small curve of flattered smile drawing across her mouth as she turned her face away again, shy. "I.. I'm just Diane."

Yes, this was the way Goldhawk — a male in his prime — did spring. No bumbling around with hardy middle-bits or headbutting other males in the nose. Just a sudden blaze of what felt an awful lot like love, not that he knew what that felt like. It wasn't just that she was beautiful — though oh she gosh darn was — it was her heart and mind, her mercy and sweetness. What a woman.

But looking at her was almost painful, she was so dazzling it was like gazing at the sun. He was careful not to stare, and he was half-trying not to be too over the top lest he embarrass the poor girl. But it was a bit late for that. Diane... "Never in my life have I heard such a delectably glorious name, you are truly a well-titled goddess" — Never in my life have I — he finally checked his words — spoken like such a buffoon, he admitted at last with a whole new smile.

Diane... I go by the name of Sergeant Horatio Finnian Sanders, but you, sweet maiden, may call me Goldhawk. Or whatever you jolly well please, he added warmly.

Sergeant Horatio Finnian Sanders. What a proud name! Diane couldn't keep the smile from her face, her cheeks burning in both effort and shyness. His fur wasn't just golden, but his aura was too, and the girl had never been praised like this or felt so utterly beheld under another's clement gaze. It made her spine tingle, but in an unfamiliar way— not in any way resembling the apprehension she was used to, or her rare bouts of mouse-fury. This was a feeling she couldn't identify, or find a name for in her head. "Goldhawk," she repeated reverently. Shorter, but no less magnificent than his full title. "Or Sir Horatio..." She tasted the feel of his true name too, and found herself giggling. "Oh, now I'll never decide what I'd like to call you," she said exasperatedly. "You.. you have such beautiful names!" And she was almost certain she'd never met a wolf with quite so many names and titles as he.

"I must repay you for saving me back there," she said, succeeding a pregnant pause between them that had been mostly spent with her staring into his wooded eyes, feeling at a loss. Could he hear how erratically her heat beat? She certainly hoped he couldn't; and Diane swallowed the frightening thought. "All I know of snakes is how poisonous they are— I.. I could've been hurt— and then you..." Came out like the sun to chase the clouds of rain away.

Diane shook her head. "Anyway, I must show you my appreciation!" she repeated, not willing to let this go with a mere "thank you" from her end. "Hm, now what... Oh, oh, I know what I can do for you! Wh-what's your favorite food? Your absolute favorite! I'll catch it for you," she beamed, aware that her specialty lie in birds and fish, but if he liked something too big for her to catch on her own, then she would certainly go through the motions of finding help to get him what he wanted anyway. Certainly the wolves of the Ridge would help her bring down a goat or deer, if it meant thanking the wolf who had saved their own.

Oh she was endearing beyond words. Goldhawk could only sit there by the riverbank, smiling warmly, beholding her goodness and her sweetness and feeling exactly as though this here was the sun herself. But he didn't feel the more primal urges that other males of his seasons might feel, being a beast of a different culture and one more prone to expressing himself through the ways of the warrior and the songs of the bard. So far he had done one but not the other. And his urge to serenade Diane was considerably more than his urge to touch her — she was the most beautiful maiden he'd ever laid eyes upon, but that gave him no right to turn her into some kind of physical target.

He agreed outright that he had beautiful names, and that he was brave and bold and all the rest of it, but he also believed without outright honesty that the pleasure is all mine — I beg no reward at all. Having said that, the thought of witnessing her hunting skills was one that appealed to him — almost as much as the thought of sharing a romantic meal with Diane, if such an opportunity was on the cards. But I am rather peckish, and if you'd find it jolly to do a bit of hunting I'd bally well love to share a rabbit or two with you. His favourite was actually boar, but he dodged that inconvenient answer in favour of something more manageable.

He was kind enough to give her a target she could realistically achieve, and Diane, in all her naive glory, didn't suspect a thing. She beamed, her tail flailing from side to side as she began to look around for where she'd begin her search. "Now, you can help me track it, but I insist on catching it, Horatio," she trilled excitedly, only insisting that he join her on part of the hunt if only because she couldn't picture herself parting from him so soon. Even if it was only temporary. The less time apart, the better, she felt, so she took him into the woods where they spent the remainder of the afternoon. Perhaps exploring the histories of one another more than they hunted.