Moonspear addling in ephemerality

The swarm had left unthinkable devastation in their wake. Stragglers remained, along with a scattering of carcasses, her blood still boiled at the mere sight of them. Now, in mournful silence, she wandered the tangled skeleton of the once-verdant forests that banded the mountain's base. She still hoped to catch sight of something that had escaped their rotten grasp, but it had been a fruitless search for a few days now. Everything was stripped painfully bare.

Disgust and sadness had made it easier to ignore her hunger, but she knew that the large prey was already moving on. After all, it was the sweet green grasses of the mountainside that gave them their life. Without it, they had to move on in search of something to fill their bellies and this left to her wonder how far they may need to go. From her perch higher on the slopes, she knew all the immediate areas of the range were done for. Floki's scout trip would likely tell her more, but he would not return for several days now

Sorrow slung heavy across her shoulders. It would take time to begin the inevitable upswing towards healing. For now, Moonspear suffered, and she despaired.

The lands beyond the mountain did not concern Lazarus, though they should have. He was not as mindful as an Alpha should be, so it went without saying that he would never suit such a position - though he did covet it still, relentlessly. He had noticed the lack of the gray boy (Floki) upon the slopes; a part of him judged this to be because of himself. In his mind he had chased off another potential rival for Amekaze's attentions, and was one step closer to her. Why he coveted the dark woman so much remained a mystery even to himself — he simply wanted, and was not accustomed to failing in his acquisition of all that he desired.

When he saw the woman moored upon a ledge of the mountain, Lazarus was slow to approach. He enjoyed watching her from afar. Guarding her. Learning about her and the relations she held, so that he may circumvent his way in to her favor. Today she was alone and the pale man decided to be more forthcoming - he ventured along the hillside until he was near but not too near, and settled beneath her chosen ridge, sitting on his haunches and surveying the steep lower portions of the mountain as if he were hunting for anything of value (when in reality he had found what he wanted, and simply wished to look preoccupied).

Fatigue threatened to weigh her down but the steady current of uneasiness and anxiety intertwined kept her wired and painfully alert. But, despite her best wishes.. so very little caught her eye. Not even the gentle sway of leaves and grasses, nor the telltale sign of prey moving through the underbrush. Nothing, and at times, it seemed as if the mountain itself had gone painfully still.

So when she noticed Lazarus moving into her proximity, he was hard to miss simply by nature of him being something alive. It gave her someplace to steer her focus towards, but she did not immediately make a move towards him. His presence was not unfamiliar for she knew that since coming here to the Spear and even in light of all things, he had stayed close -- even when many others had faded, drifted, and disappointed her. She often felt him looming just on the edge of her periphery, somehow, but she had yet to feel bothered by it even without fully understanding all of its implications. The dark alpha knew it was... something, but what, exactly, she had not put forth the effort to find.

She stayed where she was, peering intently and leaving him be for a time until she mustered a soft chuff to aim his way. A keen ear may catch it, but she was feeling it out without set expectations. All she wanted was to not dwell on this disaster that had laid waste to her mountain, even if it may be a fleeting want.

This is so choppy im sorry lmao

He investigated the dirt at the base of some boulders, taking a few steps, dipping his snout, taking a few more, studying the irregular face of the cliffside. When he heard the chuff he turned an ear but otherwise played coy. Lazarus lingered with the rocks and dirt for a few minutes longer, and then gradually moved off — shifting in to the dark of the barren trees as if to depart entirely.

Yet he was there again, having climbed closer to her through the trees. 

As he slipped closer his gait was slow but self-assured, and he came to a halt near her flank, too close to be considered normal by any means. He lingered there on his haunches and simply sat, breathing her in, watching the landscape. The beast was oblivious to how the woman felt but he did see the damage to the mountain. It mattered little to Lazarus that the mountain be so damaged; he had come to appreciate it as her mountain and as an extention of Amekaze, but he was here. He would protect her and the mountain, and eventually life would return to the slopes.

pfft s'all good with me. but don't mind me as i try to remember how to write again bc i'm bad at absences woops

She watched, curious and attentive, as he seemingly vanished only to return again in due time. There was much she wished to understand in full about him, namely how he maintained such a straightforwardness that still read as a mystery so effortlessly. He had come here, though, integrated himself into the mountain, and now played a role she ought to be able to recognize in its entirety. So when he came to her side, and so close, she eyed him sidelong to wonder why he had come to this place beside her of all the stretches of the great wide Wilds.

Amekaze kept her paws planted for several long moments in which a relative peace settled, despite his awfully near proximity. She watched the barren landscapes, but kept an ear and half a focus angled his way. Since he did not seem perturbed by anything in particular, she could assume all was well on his watch as well so she let it taper away until she slid her forelegs forward for a stretch.

Her tail arched and she shook a shiver down the length of her back as she pulled her muscles from her neck to her hips, loosening whatever she could with the motion. Once regrouped, she strode forward into a lengthened walk paired alongside a look over her shoulder, gauging his interest in such a motion and seeing if she could steer him into a friendly scrap, or something along a similar vein -- anything to vent her uneasiness into something she knew how to manage. If only for a moment, she would greet the distraction head on.

There were many things he would do for her, if she only asked. They sat in silence for a minute or two - and he, oblivious to her unease, settled contentedly close. As the woman rose and bowed to stretch, Lazarus watched her. He studied the curve of her body as she moved, the muscles, the tightness of the flesh; his mind wandered only briefly across the things he could do with that flesh, but knew that he would never attempt so long as he had rivals. This is what he told himself, anyways. Mentally holding back, keeping calm, so that she be none the wiser. It was mildly thrilling to watch her move.

Then she was up and walking, and Lazarus got to his feet in one fluid motion, slow but sure, and was intent to follow her if she chose to peruse the borders. At first this is what he thinks she wants - a companion. Someone to keep her company as she runs her daily errands. But then she turns and looks to him, and that look speaks volumes. He reads too far in to it, of course. There is a thrilling sensation rolling down his spine as their gazes meet, and he lets out a pleasant little rumble, advancing towards her. Whatever happens next is entirely up to her - she may seek a spar, but he has a wholly different agenda.

She observes. He answers, in his way after eyes on her, and her first response is a few thoughtful lashes of her tail that curl higher with each gesture. In silence, save for a soft growl to his rumble, she further attempts to shed that tension on her bones -- it's been a little while, as it always seemed to be and above all, he is different but has always seemed particularly mindful of her. She knows nothing of his.. precise approach, his tactic, or even the fullest extent of his intentions. But she has her suspicion, no doubt, and even just a vague sense that wants to lead her towards more than just curiosity.

To her eye, he yielded the next move to her after his advancing. She pivoted fully towards him, arcing subtly away from head on to curve past him while she measures her defense. On her way past, she snips her barred teeth towards his shoulder or rib -- whichever piece of him looms the nearest. His response will gauge the force her next move will have but for now, she's just light on her feet and postured proudly as she swings around behind him -- she wants to see him move, too.

Sorry for the delay! I'm struggling with him a lot more than I should be.

They are dancing an age-old dance, one that Lazarus is keen for, although his desires are immutable; his lust for her is paramount within his mind, but she does not know this. She cannot know, not yet, not while she covets the pale boy the way she does. He is the biggest threat to Lazarus aside from the whims of the dark woman. She may not want him in the manner he desires, but he will find a way to make it happen. For now, he is keen on watching her body as she strides by him. He observes the subtle changes in her posture, the tense of her muscle, the curl of her tail, and then she is moving in to strike, and he lets her. She clips at his ribs and he does not move to stop it - savoring the touch as openly as he dares, his rumble transforming in to something far more passive, melodic even. A croon. He slips around her as a pale mimicry to Amekaze's efforts, and slides his teeth close to some part of her, tasting her fur between his teeth.

<3 no worries i am never in any hurry 

She knows his eyes are on her. He isn't shy about it. Perhaps.. almost impressively so. She moves on him undeterred, then just a step away, although such success makes her loathe to stay away for very long should he tire of studying her so intently soon. He is an imposing beast up close, something realized in full now that she's this close and looking at him back in a way she'd not quite done before. And, neither has she heard such a sound arise from his lungs. Her curiosity quivers, and she flicks an ear his way with a quick, small growl.

The dark alpha rounds around behind him, and he's bending into her as well so from there, she swirls the current created while she can. She swings forward and this time angles her contact towards his hip, or, should he move just a little faster, perhaps his tail. Either way, it's a little sharper than her last -- a little nippier if she gets what she wants, wherever it ends up.

She's just content in motion.

He does not wish to pull away from her so quickly, but he does so, having fallen in to this dance as effortlessly as he would have fallen in to battle; this was far less aggressive than anything he is accustomed to, like a wolfish form of tai-chi, but the fact that he is moving with her, spending time with her, is all that matters. Lazarus would not harm a hair upon her head even to save his own hide; or so he tells himself. She slips close and reaches, biting, nipping, and catches at his tail. He wheels around in kind, and once again reaches with his own teeth to drag a grin through the pitch of her coat. He would dance with her for hours if it meant they could stay like this, together, without the prying eyes of the boy king to intervene. Deep within, Lazarus feels a great swell of pride in himself, a twinge of greedy pleasure, for he knows that they are sharing something that even Charon would not understand. Perhaps he is being foolish and his obsession is coloring his thoughts, but Lazarus firmly believes in this.

this kinda ending up working as a fade for me (unless laz says otherwise ofc) but we can have another whenever~

For her, he is measured. She can see it soon enough and there seems to be no other explanation, even if she tempts him into reaction greater than the flow by having at his tail. Commendable, perhaps, and she's feeling largely free to have her way with her nips and pinches. His returns are never too sharp, but just as much as they need to be she feels, and she continues the steady volley of an exchange until she slides just out of reach with a big rush of breath.

She's a little more wild-eyed than normal and despite the simplicity, she wells with a certain satisfaction from the adrenaline riled by her own choice. Too much more may be simply overindulgent, she considered. Then, in the next few beats of her heart, she recaptured her composure and reaches towards him for a last snip. Again, sometime.

With that unsaid and done, she moved past him for a new path across the mountainside.