Wild Berry Meadow so now i'm single & ready to mingle

Single, solo like a loner, and a lone wolf. No, Epic wasn't suddenly on the dating market or dealing with those crazy, boy-like hormones that tended to drive all yearlings crazy. Instead the 'wild wanderer' had spend most of his bachelor days alone, without company, family or a pack. It tugged at his heart strings as he aimlessly wandered through the Wild Berry Meadows while his mind was steaming onwards like a runaway rollercoaster. 

The single most important question that kept stuck in his mind was the fact; would he stay a lone wolf forever? Although he was new to the Teekon Wilds, many pack scents had invaded his nostrils and he tried to memorize every single one of them. Which pack would fit? Was the thought at joining a pack just a crazy whim to deal with the cold, wintery-like challenges? Probably not. On this fence he was probably serious, should the pack fit his needs. Although the thought at joining a pack scared him at the same time since he enjoyed his freedom. Little did he know of the packs and the political structures.

So yes, Epic was truly single and ready to ..mingle!

tag for reference but feel free to come along too <3

The Nightstalker had trekked along the ridges and rocks of the mountains for a pleasant few days, soaking in the winter chill and embracing each curl of wind that swept under her belly and pierced into her eyes - the cold was sensational, and each frigid burst provided more than enough struggle to sweep over the teekon, just as she had dreamed. Winter was a terribly glorious season, in which fauna and flora alike were pushed to their limits, strength tested against the snowstorms that threatened to spill, waiting and watching like a hungry dragon.

@Scarecrow had lingered in her mind, and she recited his lovely little verse countless times in her head: "You have no seat atop this plane. And as time fades, chip by chip does your throne. The world must be spun rightly by your will, or else the rituals will be empty." 

The world would be spun rightly by her will - the raven would see to this, clutching lives of those innocent souls in her claws and bending them to her bidding; it was how it should be... how it must be. Kelina would relish in the power that it brought, and her malicious thoughts twisted dangerously toward the utter chaos of her reign in shadow mountain for the seventh time- oh, what a sight it had been to behold! The corpses, the blood, the insides that spilled over rockfaces and tumbled into ravines to rot away in their grim silence while the wolves howled their rituals to the moon. She could taste the rusty tang on her tongue still, could feel the pulses as her lips traced the lives that would perish... it was almost too much to bear, and her head felt dizzy until her pallid skull shook and her eyes traced the horizon.

A lone figure.

She watched him, tail curled around her lithe body like a plume of smoke until she stood at last, prowling ahead only to emerge from the shadows as a panther in pursuit of prey. "Hello there," came the purr, dribbled on sinister lips.

There were twelve wolves who had banded together and created a pack; and as little kingdoms rose to their glory and disappeared again in the books of history, he realized that this wasn't the last. Having no intention of creating his own pack or simply join one, his mind could not yet grasp that he had to be single and mingle with twelve packs. TWELF! It wasn't like he could speed-date and try to find which one would fit (or the other way around, which one would accept this twiddlesticks yearling). Not only did he have a lot of packs to visit, at the same time many scent came and went. Maybe he just had to get lucky for once.

The yearling male was about to make his first move, get truckin' on the road and discover who and what was out there when his eyes were suddenly taken aback. Suddenly, with a sleek, feminine grace a female knocked away any sense of sanity that still lingered. After all, he was a male. Carefully he analyzed her feline-like figurine, her midnight-colored coat and her watchful eyes. Even the words that slipped from her leathery lips had a graceful undertone. "Oh-oh hey there beautiful!" Epic couldn't help but to reply. Were those hormones finally moving to his head, clouding his rational thoughts and his judgement. After all, he had no idea of her ill intentions or her wicked thoughts. And, to top off his reply, Epic added. "MEOW!"

She was used to being observed by men (even women, on certain occasions), so to see golden eyes sweep over her figure and dance across her visage... it was not enough to unsettle her. Her hips swayed under the light, prowling closer until she was barely a few pawsteps ahead of him - not the most magnificent of wolves, but at least his eyes held some interest.

The Nightstalker hummed to herself, beginning to circle him as a shark would drift around their prey - what information could she gain from him? Or perhaps she would allow the flirtations to pass back and forth, slinking closer and pressing her lithe body against him, trailing black lips up his throat... only to sieze the skin between her teeth and rip the flesh from his neck - oh, he would be a decent enough meal.

"What's your name, mister?" Came an breathy quiery, batting her lashes and inclining her head to the side as the violet eyes gleamed in their place; she knew this game, as familiar as the pelt of ink that draped over her body - it was a dance, a wonderful little puzzle. Only she knew how it all ended.

The day passed much too quickly.
He and Kelina had been searching for their next prey item, as the fatally faithful Warlock was accompanying the beauty through Teekon. He had made a pact with her, and though it were unreal as to the terms and such, he kept his word. His mind stayed focused on seeing her fulfillment as this world’s ruler, and should he prove himself to her, she would eventually release her Voice to him. Oh dearest hells and morbid heavens, how he craved that day. The day where her mind was with his, and his solace was hers... he might finally know what calm might be. 

Until then, he would drag the chain around his ankle, tailoring to her whims as she saw fit. 

As she worked her scandalous magic magic on this passerby, the lavish brown coy watched with corpse blue eyes from the trees they had passed earlier. She was such a devil with words, with her body...while he could evoke nightmares, she could pull your soul free from your body and dangle it before you. 

He couldnt dare interrupt her delicate work - so he would stay put until she summoned him.