Emberwood i wouldn't change ya

tags for reference

The more he thought about it, the less Bracken Sanctuary appealed to him. Brennan had left his pack seeking something more exciting, more satisfying. If he had been hoping to settle down somewhere tame and die, he'd have stayed where he already had a name for himself. Coming here had been about opportunity... so he left.
It was his first and last time meeting with the Governor. After a short conversation with @Alarian (who had promised to pass the message to his lovely sister, @Eris) he had set off with the knowledge that he was welcome back. He did not think he would return, but it was nice to have the option.
The sun was beginning to set, casting shadows through the forest; what sunlight did come through between the trees was golden and hazy, dappling the ground beautifully. Brennan had settled lazily against the roots of one of the larger trees. In this position, the warmth of the sun washed over him directly. He was content to doze this way until it came time to find shelter for the night, assuming no one interrupted him.

seeing no true reason why he should remain, mahler had paced from swiftcurrent's borders wth the intention of not returning. yet his foray into the brush had reminded the musiker of why loneliness too was no lot he wished to carry. the man paused, burdened by the memory of her regard, and the coast that teemed with nothingness before him.
a hunt, then; mahler passed between the golden beams that shafted down from the canopy in search of something to busy his teeth. the man who dozed in the tangled roots of a tree was given a silent glance as the swiftcurrent wolf made his way beyond the other's reaches; mahler saw no reason to pause and would not unless he was addressed.

The sudden appearance of a dark stranger startled him from his reverie. Far from bothered, Brennan was rather intrigued to watch him move past. On a mission, I take it? He called lazily to the retreating form, stretching his limbs out. He half-expected the male would continue on his way, though the idea left him fairly unperturbed.
Belatedly, he noted the scent of pack, and was marginally more interested. He did still seek a home, though this time he would be far more selective. The death of the packmate he had never met at Bracken Sanctuary had reminded him that life was far too short. There wasn't enough time to waste on being in a pack he didn't feel at home in— or pursuing disinterested strangers for conversation.

because no one could leave well enough alone, of course the reclining brute called out to mahler, who was summarily forced to pause out of social obligation. ears of dark ash swept forward atop his crown; he regarded his sable companion with a cooler level of impassivity. "yes." it was a generous answer for the gargoyle, at least these days.
tail flicked idly at his mottled heels; the stalwart lavender stare came to rest heavily on the man. "tired?" not too tired to stall perfect strangers in odd woodlands, mahler grumbled within his own mind, but let none of this show upon his features. perhaps there was a diversion to be found here for them both.

Yes. Not a very talkative guy, then. Brennan could work with it, though. He had stopped, so that must mean he was interested in something. Yes, He returned evenly to the single-word question, allowing a few beats of pause as if he might leave it there. Ultimately, he knew he would have to make up for his companion being, ah, verbally challenged.
Traveling, actually. I've recently departed from my pack, His tone was almost bored; there was no importance to the information. It was idle conversation. He did recall the leader's request, though. Spread the word where he could, that kind of thing. It didn't seem too pressing at the moment, given the pack scent clinging to the stranger. After another beat, he tacked on almost teasingly (and almost questioningly), Your mission must not be very pressing.

a long, catlike blink — mahler was unused to teasing from men. the last wolf to regard him so had been a smug, pale she-wolf, her face all but forgotten by the musiker. the former coastal creature decided that the roguish glint that had crept into his companion's tones was charming, if not confusing in a vague way. he did not seem similar to alarian; this then was a game to be played, perhaps.
"hunting to clear the vaters of the mind," mahler intoned, a longer sentence than he had spoken for some time, and not to a wolf who a scant handful of minutes ago was a mere stranger. what had come over him? a curious swivel of one ear. "vy did you leave?"

A strangely-worded answer, but he understood. He only nodded, rising finally from his prone position with no intention beyond stretching to purge the lethargy from him. The question only gave him a moment of pause. I was restless, Brennan supplied, glancing over the nameless male with his own curiosity. I joined recently, and found nothing for me there. It was nice enough, but...
There was always a 'but' somewhere in there. He snorted, thinking over his own reasons now. I didn't need a Sanctuary. That was as much as he wanted to give, for now, and it was clear from his tone. If he thought too long on it, perhaps he would come to regret the decision. Brennan wasn't about that life. Perhaps the stranger would settle for hunting with him rather than asking inconvenient questions. Still looking to clear your mind?

the stranger's gaze held the hue of soft-minted coinage, something mahler noted along with the fellow's easy movements. his own body began to follow suit, the tension in the too-oft hunched shoulders ebbing, his stoic lilac stare warming with something akin to affability. to the other's words, mahler's lips gave a wry twitch into a smile that lingered only briefly on the charcoal plains of his countenance. "alarian."
the sylph with eyes for strong men and dark coats, it seemed, given the wolf before him. mahler too had no need of a sanctuary, but he also had no reason to join the creek. save for one, and it seemed it was not a reason after all. perhaps he was a mere fool for making her his singular goal since departing grimnismal.
to the other he gave a nod, and this time the smile that crept onto his lips remained, cloaked in the same teasing nature that his companion had offered. "i am mahler."

He couldn't hide the surprise in his expression. It changed quickly to intrigue— in the last two weeks he had found the leader of Bracken Sanctuary as elusive as he had endeavored to be himself. Brennan had no intention of returning, but he could not pass up the opportunity to learn more about the skinny, nervous creature who ran the Sanctuary.
You know him? His gaze sharpened, focused and undeniably very curious now. To the male's introduction, he added: Brennan. But he remained expectant, waiting. He knew he had no reason to be invested, but something about both of these strangely connected individuals spoke of a story. And the pull of a good tale was never easy to resist anyway.

mahler gave a short nod, extending his forelegs so that the other — brennan — might see the well-healed scars that littered them. "he kept me from fever," the musiker murmured. he had done other things as well, such as wrap a pretty tongue around mahler's ego; had he not been so utterly focused upon finding wylla at the time, the mottled brute might have availed himself of what was on offer.
but he had not, and the cherubic little sylph deserved more than a half-hearted roll, made unskilled by how long it had been since mahler cared for such things. the interest that had become spearlike in the golden eyes piqued the man. "vhen did you meet him?" he inquired quietly, unable to keep from perusing this subject of mutual interest.

The answer painted an intriguing picture of the Governor, though he was disappointed by the lack of depth to the story. It made sense, at least— he was a medic, he remembered. He glanced over the scars Mahler displayed, thinking they must have been ugly wounds. His expression remained thoughtful, almost as if working to solve some pressing mystery.
Officially? The day I left, The explanation was simple, without any identifiable emotion behind it beyond curiosity. Brennan's gaze trailed past the other as he puzzled out his next words. He's... rather elusive. And strange. His tone suggested he didn't see this as a negative, but he frowned as he said it.
Suddenly he was eager for that hunt. He turned, gesturing with his muzzle for Mahler to follow him. After a moment's pause, he turned his attention to the myriad of prey scents in the forest, moving presumably with his companion in tow.

brennan studied mahler's wounds, murmuring of alarian before taking the hunt-lead for the pair. the musiker loped easily alongside the wolf cloaked in fawn. neither of them had known the slimly buit governor for long, but mahler was intrigued that they had both been affected by the boy's presence enough to discuss it.
"alarian is a shy mouse," the dappled creature rejoined at length, when he too had lifted his dark muzzle to take the prey scent in the air. "he enjoys male company. he is ashamed." such was mahler's clipped analysis; the thickness of his accent had remained despite his time in the teekon. falling silent, he let the lavender of his stare shift sideways, wondering what brennan would make of his words.

Ah, he should have left this guy alone. The topic continued, and Brennan was forced to think longer on something that confused him far too much. More confusing were Mahler's words. Ashamed? He echoed, a snort of amusement escaping him. Of enjoying male company? That was... not the impression I got. Brennan recalled now what little he did know of the Governor. Everyone at the Sanctuary seemed to know his preferences— seemed open enough about it. More telling, to him, had been the scent of a stranger cloaked thickly on the leader when they had spoken, and the weariness to his movements that spoke of a tryst. So thickly that Brennan knew for sure the stranger was male and rather healthy, actually. He hoped he never met him.
It occurred to him that there must be a reason Mahler knew these things. Perhaps Alarian made a habit of these affairs. He's a fair leader, Brennan added to steer away from that subject, and found that he meant it; he would not have spoken ill of the boy either way, though. He did still hope to keep that option open. And then, because this was on some level gossiping, The guy really needs to eat more, though.

mahler was perturbed by brennan's rejoinder, for it appeared he had been wrong regarding the breathless little slyph. be it a misread or a miscommunique, the musiker did not enjoy being wrong. yet he let little of this play tangibly, save for a brief tightening of his jaw. the tension dispelled itself as soon as it had come; the tone of his companion had become strained. 
or perhaps that was another projection.
"maybe ashamed when i did not respond," mahler chuffed by way of explanation, one that castigated him with some bit of guilt. the gargoyle did not have an opinion upon the pairings of other creatures, so long as he was not asked to participate in any arrangement. a wry glint flickered in the stoneflower gaze. "you observed his body at length, ja?" mahler murmured in low tones, casting a glance toward brennan that attempted to convey he meant only lightness. "er ist schön," the swiftcurrent brute went on, lowering muzzle to take the fragrances along the earth. "no harm in looking at pretty things."

A well-timed glance towards Mahler revealed to him the momentary tension in the other's features; he wondered at it, more so with the male's next words. So he had not involved himself with the scruffy little leader, after all. Hearing of the unrequited attraction surprised him. The dark male was by no means ugly, but Brennan reasoned that perhaps Alarian had a type. It seemed the logical explanation.
Because actually, the Governor was quite pretty, and if their single encounter was anything to go by, had options. Perhaps Brennan might have been one— if only he wasn't a he. He could reasonably have closed his eyes and pretended, but that seemed cruel even for him. So he had only admired— not that he appreciated Mahler guessing as much.
He reserved only a passing look of curiosity for the words murmured in a foreign tongue, mimicking the other's movements idly. Brennan was far more invested in the conversation than in the hunt, unfortunately. None at all, He agreed quietly. Though, he is... not quite my type, however much he may look like it.
Oh, the disappointment when he had first realized Alarian was male!— but that was in the past. Then, because he was curious: Why reject him, then? Not yours, either? It was clear from his tone that he rather expected this to be the answer, or to hear of some grievance against him. He flicked an ear in his direction, curious and waiting.

had mahler been aware of brennan's thought process, he might have found himself flustered indeed, first at being thought of as 'not-ugly,' and the curiosity behind the dark wolf's question. as it was, the creek wolf had taken his companion's gestures as literal. they were to hunt; thus mahler spared no effort letting his gaze search the terrain for any movement.
their discourse had remained upon alarian; his flat lilac stare had warmed with a lasting amusement.
wondering only momentarily at why brennan would ask the question, mahler let a long silence sit comfortably between them, while he found the trail of scent that would lead the pair to a warren, and set off along at at a casual gait. "it has been a long time since matters of the flesh concerned me." a truth well enough said aloud — the variegated brute found no shame in his lack of carnal appetite. beyond the natural stirrings of his body in response to receptive she-wolves, it was an event on a horizon mahler did not intend to explore. "he is not your type? he is soft and fey. it is not only the nature of die frauen — wvomen — to be such a way."
this time, mahler's eyes did not stray from brennan's masculine visage; the creature found his steps slowing to accomodate the gaze, and eventually paused, halting in the dappled shade to await the other's answer.