King Elk Forest talk to me boy

Fuck 'em. If every woman was going to treat her like she was the scum of the earth, Neasa Cyclone Blackthorn could do better. Sure, it would have been nice to have the men do all the work, but she was a capable, strong woman. If Addison and her bitch of a sister had not ruined her general happiness, maybe Cyclone could have lived a nice life with Rosings. As it was, it seemed the Odolf girl was going to make her life a living hell every step of the way, and she had managed to get every last one of them on her side. The joke would be on them when she found her next target, because Cyclone would not be here to be the punching bag any longer. Addison may have "won" this game by forcing Cyclone out, but it would be her who wallowed, married to a weak man while her brothers chose their own wives.

She embarked on her solo journey heading east in the cover of night while the others were sleeping. If they came after her, that was their problem, but she would turn around for nothing. No, she had other plans. Cyclone was now determined to be at the helm on her own terms, not based on charming Grayson into doing what she wanted. Maybe she would really dive deep on the whole "whore" thing and fuck a few along the way. The thought brought a wicked smile to her face. In fact, having free rein to flirt and fuck whoever she wanted sounded downright delightful. Cyclone giggled quietly to herself at the thought.

The forest was good cover, and Cyclone slid between trees with grace. Plans and plots were already welling up in her mind, although she was not sure just how she would go about them. Now that she had decided to shed her loyalty to Rosings, the possibilities seemed endless. She did know she had exactly one end goal: children in the springtime. If she couldn't have that, she wasn't really sure what she would do. Probably steal some. For now, her white stalkings carried her further east, away from the wolves she had once called comrades and flirted with endlessly. Away from the bitch that was Addison. If she thought she had won, let her have it. Cyclone knew that Odolf girl would always be a slave to whomever she married.

it was unfortunate, then, that it was not a stranger that came upon cyclone now— no, instead, it was grayson. he was unaware of what had transpired between his sister and the rest of the females. he should have known better— women and their petty drama. scoff! a man would never be privy to such. 

but that was besides the point. grayson scented her outside the safety of the creek. he wondered why she would leave-- their borders were well protected (as well as they could be by such an unofficial gathering of wolves) and therefore she was safe within the walls. there was nothing out there for her— inside there was far more.

he set off after the white-footed fae, his ears pressed forwards and brows furrowed with a generous amount of concern. rightfully so— women were to be worried about. but he spotted her dark coat, hidden between the thick trunks of the trees. he first called out in a loud boof, and then made the close the distance between them. “cyclone,” he woofed, head tilted to one side. curiosity and concern were clearly spread across his features. and so he waited.

She had hoped to leave without needing to explain herself to anybody. Technically, she still had that option. Then again, maybe it would be one final twist of the knife to let Grayson know what a piece of gossiping trash his sister was. He faced her with that pretty face of his, and Cyclone scowled at his concerned look. Clearly, he wasn't very observant. Or maybe he trusted his sister too much. Either way, it had clearly left an impression on the Blackthorn woman, and she was not about to return to a place where every other wolf of the same sex treated her like garbage.

I'm leaving, she said plainly, Your sisters want me gone. They think I'm a whore, even though they've no proof to back it up. She sighed, shaking her head. They've got every other woman convinced of it, too. Cyclone was still baffled by that one. They followed Addison blindly, even though she treated everybody like low-life garbage. It had become more apparent since they had left the ranch, perhaps let loose because Tantalus was not around to keep her in line anymore. Whatever the reason, Cyclone refused to be treated like trash. She yearned for power, for a family of her own, and she would not find that with Rosings so long as Addison was around.

grayson's brow furrowed. truthfully, he was unsure how to handle this situation. 

on one hand, he thought it was stupid to act based on the opinions of others. who cared what they thought? grayson would continue to live his own life no matter the thoughts of others... but cyclone was, after all, a woman. and who was he to tell a woman she shouldn't overthink? hah! woman would always overthink. he should just let her go. but, on the other hand, it was his duty to protect the women of his claim-- cyclone included. cyclone... especially? grayson would be a fool if he would say he hadn't thought about taking her as his own. she had, after all, had tantalus' blessing. it'd been an option, anyway, grayson knew he had his pick of women, so he kept the rest of his options open.

so he was unsure where to go from here. did he even care of cyclone left if it meant the other women in the pack were happier? he needed to treat this like damage control, he supposed. one good wolf gone so the others could prosper. so be it. 

"and so what?" he challenged anyway, "you're just going to leave? prove them right?"

There are only two options, she began, and though it was a long shot, it was really the only thing that would both bring her back and really shove it in Addison's face. I either come back at your side, as your wife to be, or I leave. Nothing else will do. Cyclone suspected he would refuse the proposition, since it put her in the position of power should he accept. But Cyclone would not be bullied day in and day out unless she had the authority to shut it down herself, and she knew for a fact there was only one way that was going to happen. If she was the wife of Grayson Odolf, nobody could get in her way.

The Blackthorn knew she was giving him an ultimatum, but she didn't care. This was his last chance to keep her, and he would be kicking himself silly if he let her go. Cyclone was a catch, and she knew it. She would bear many children come springtime, and to do that, she needed a mate to do his part. This was a deal that would not last beyond this conversation, and if he refused, Neasa would be long gone, off to find herself a more suitable suitor.

an ultimatum. grayson stared at her with a thoughtful expression, taking in her words with a grain of salt. they come from a woman-- how much it reigned true was... debatable. but still, it was enough to make even grayson consider his words even more carefully. 

"that's not very ladylike," he purled, but his gravely voice fell softer. the words themselves were condescending, but it was easily skewed as a joke-- a play on what she was saying addison and emerson had said. grayson was just kidding, it would seem. as he spoke, he made a few sweeping steps towards her. "that's what you want?" he asked her, closing the distance between them until he could reach out and preen gently at the fur along her cheek, "to be my wife?"

She eyed him carefully, awaiting an answer, but all she got were more questions. Cyclone was growing impatient, but even she could not help but close her eyes and feel that familiar flutter in her (heart? loins? somewhere else?) when he reached out and touched her cheek. The Blackthorn resolved not to be swayed by his advances, though. There was only one answer that would bring her back.

Is that a yes? she asked, as if they were now playing a game of questions, and the first one to answer with a statement was the loser of the two. Neasa pulled back, looking him squarely in the eyes. She would not dilly dally for any longer. This was a yes or no answer, and if he didn't make a choice, that was an answer. It meant that Cyclone would find another husband. Maybe she'd find several. Now there was a thought she hadn't even considered. Hell, maybe she'd even pick up some wives along the way, too.

she pulled away, and grayson frowned at her. she didn't seem aggressive or even upset at his advances, so grayson knew he was barking up the right tree. he knew the game, he knew how to play-- and he was certain that cyclone did too. she turned the question on him again, expecting a more definitive answer. if he gave in, he sacrificed himself to cyclone, that meant he put himself off the market for every other woman out there... and there were a lot of women. could he lie about this? would that tank his cred with the rest of the women-- so far that he would be dethroned before he ever had a chance to wear the crown.

so, the question was, could he push this further? and if so, how far? he'd try another angle.

"do you even want to marry me?," he asked, with a faux pained and accusatory tone, "or do you just want to get at addison?" with a tilt of his muzzle upwards, and then another step towards her to fill the space she made between them. this time, he moved to press his nose to the base of her ear, sweeping up with it to murmur, "there are other ways to do that."

It was not a yes, which meant it was a no. Cyclone was done playing games. As much as she would love to incorporate a getback at Addison, she wanted something else more: children. And this was not the way she wished to go about getting them. She was done playing hard to get. She was done fucking around. She was done with Rosings and everything it stood for. No, she wanted to be in control of her life, and Grayson was not interested in giving that to her.

We're done here, she said, pulling away from him. I hope you make your wife happy. I hope Addison doesn't ruin her for you, but maybe that's what you want. Cyclone turned away. Nothing more could be said to convince her. She had given him every chance, and he had used it against her. She took a deep breath, feeling more free than she ever had before. This was the right choice.