Silver Creek ☁ θολό ☁

rosings wolves <3 @Dawson?

Fog rolled hazy silk over the creek, masking the waters in a plume of grey, to which the sky responded in silver. Snow had ceased to fall on this frigid evening, but the trees whistled to one another and the clouds embraced their sisters in the sky; tied to one another with the bond of the world's spirit. Even in winter, when all seemed to rest and the earth wrapped itself in a blanket of white, nature's life remained. The twitch of rabbit whiskers, the rustle of a mouse in a den of ice. Even the herbs, whose heads might poke through to breathe in the bitter air.

Daivya felt alive, but unsteady.

Would she be paired with a man this season? The moons of mating had begun many suns prior, but they had not taken official claim of the territory, nor had Grayson begun to pair them - she knew, oh, how she knew! There was not a full chance of her recieving a husband to please in the first gathering, but she prayed the gods might show mercy on her, on her womb, too. She longed for children, for their little songs and shouts. Their delicate, scrunched up faces as they gazed upon the world for the very first time - it was a wonderful sight, but it was dispelled with the rushing of the wind. A wish, that's all it was.

Walking through the mist, the Meladi hoped it might become reality.

A thousand nights could pass with ease, and the bold water serpent could never tell whether it was the morn or the twilight of such eonic pleasure. But as he finished his conferring with @Grayson, he found himself completely gifted with the wonderous sight of another diligently working woman. And of course it was Daivya, the charcoal swath of feminine beauty, a delicacy of smooth dulcets, and meek carriage, a demeanor of a willing conduit of any man who would present themselves to her and claim her. She was always on the mind of Ray, and the Odolf could never pull himself to choose any of the succulent divines they had under their watch. But Daivya was one of the most high on the serpent's list. Another few were up there, yet the enchanting muse was right there. And he had been standing there, a pale gold shimmer in the draft of the trees as he followed the delicate dame. He couldn't be too sure whether his burly brother planned to have any specific woman as of this season, or whether a trapping of multiple women would be wife to the brusque sibling. One could never be sure what would fly through either of his brother's heads, despite the goldie wanting to be up on the game of everyone's psychology. 

His voice, a deep lute which strung out behind the curved hips of the dark woman, gliding with agile yet virile twist over her supple spine, over a slender shoulder, and into perky auds. "Well, good morning, Daivya...how goes your day?" Delighted blues scored over every single moved wave of the tempting body, his mind playing a a flurry of fantasties involving this woman. But all sociopaths knew to keep their physical and mental cards close, did they not?

"Well, good morning, Daivya."

The forest sylph visibly jumped. Her skin prickled with dumbstruck surprise, a voice of the deepest notes shuddering into her ears, rippling down her spine. It was an unfamiliar, foreign concoction of the thunderous clouds during a brewing storm, and the powerful, god-like roar of a crashing wave. Primitive and dark; yet the words were sincere, unceremonious. Casual, perhaps.

His coat was of creamy white, a stripe of gold shimmering across his back, all the way to his tailbone - at first, Daivya believed it to be Harrison, one of Grayson's siblings she'd yet to meet. But from the barest glimpses of passing, she came to the conclusion that no, it was not. That only left... "...Dawson." She greeted, a salmon tongue sweeping over her lips, heart still thuddering behind the bones of her ribcage.

Her chin dipped politely, body righting itself into a position of respect - he was a man, and another Odolf, so she would oblige to the rules that had been engraved in her very soul. "It... my day has been going well, thank you. Y-yours, Κύριε?" Inwardly cringing, she cursed herself for the fluster spewing from her muzzle, silencing her own tongue and cautiously avoiding the deep shards of ice upon his features. There was no doubting his enrapturing appearance, something that seemed common among the men of rosings, particularly the Odolf crew. She couldn't be lured in... not until her body and mind were gifted to one in marriage.

Ah, and there it was. As she turned to regard him, the rainbow of misleading colors basked bright in the helm of the daylight. Gingery cinnamon crafted a lazy whirl in the high plush of her near fathomless flint coat. Those petite toes were only just cleft in a brandish of ivory pristine enough to nearly appear her being held endearingly by the snow. It matched his own socks of white, and should they have children, surely this would run thick in his heirs. He couldn't decide what he wanted their appearance to be, and while he visually appreciated Daivya, every woman was a specimen to be analyzed completely. Especially in regards to making his children. 

"I see nothing that would brighten my day any more than you, Daivya, so it is enjoyable, now." His charms were immaculate, his dolling of the women where it needed when it needed to be there. Everyone got high should he deem it appropriate. But one tarnish the young woman held was that slippery tongue. Distaste rolled up his throat, a bitter and tacky roil of unpleasure. Yet the only show of such a spite was the pause in the waves within those haunting blues of his. Had any of his brothers found her useless language irritating? It was secretive, as he knew no translations to her words. It was a weapon against his understanding, and he was not happy with his intellect being mocked by a pitiful foreign language. While his gait had slowed to confront her own, his sleekly maned crown tilted to pin the wench in place with a soft scrutiny. "Yet you try me with your veiled tongue- How do I know you do not insult me, Daivya?" 

His baritones slipped a softer note, but their bass also softened, low, a dangerous depth to be alone with. It was a rivet of current that pulled the unlucky down and inhaled them until they were no more-
Unless they proved to not meant to be swallowed in the torment of psychological warfare he as endlessly able to easily provide. Those azures swifted to the lavender amethysts, all too willing to descern much more than she meant.

When overcome with ravenous butterflies in her stomach, the sylph would revert to her home tongue, eager to preserve some ounce of confidence before it was waned away entirely.

Dawson's charm lured her in immediately, and again she execrated herself for it, disliking how her cheeks flushed, tingling warmth creeping over her skin beneath the silky cocoa fur. A miniscule fire had pooled at the pit of her belly, and the thickness of his words tempted the flames to dance higher, anticipating, swelling - everything she was using her reserves of strength to avoid. Then, just as apace as the fiery orange sprung taller, it was spat into ash, a stone of dread internally weighing her body down as though the very burden of it sent her sprawling to the snow. And she made the mistake of meeting his eyes.

Fathomless oceans of blue, without an end to pull her from the void and suck her back to the living; she'd never seen orbs of such a mystical azure, and her resolve was crumbling with the ease of a sand castle set against a torrent of irascible water.

"No! I could never," she gasped lightly, sleepy violet gaze knocked right back into the present. "My apologies. I... it means Sir. I meant no ill, I swear it." It had been a word of comfort to Daivya, who relied on one of the few connections to her home. "If you require it, I will refrain from using the language." Not around him, at least - cutting off her connection to the ties of her past was too daunting a possibility, and her tongue drew across her lips nervously as she awaited his verdict. Always obedient, subservient, and yet... the danger sent even greater tickles of aprehension, of... excitement into her veins - the menacing rasp to his tone, the caliginous traces of warning. Was that so terribly wrong?

It was almost enough to make him murmur her name with the heated crave of a grooming nibble from a ceaseless lover. How swiftly she had apprehended herself, had thrust herself at his feet without a delay. That was what the serpent lusted for, that power, that control. And Daivya only added drips of a teary apology to a thirsty ocean, draining the woman of that nectar. That dew held him, and with intense strides forward, he pushed himself into the forefront of her tucked personal space. They would share air, for now. They would share warmth, as he peered down at the beauty like she was his remaining hope in Teekon's wilds. Their heights to each other was perfect; she was neither too small for him to easily reach the tuck of her nape, nor was he too tall to rest a pale cheek over the woman's flustered mind. Almost as though they were made to compliment each other, he mused as he stood with amusement bleeding into his lying gaze. 

"I do require it, Daivya. And should you abide, there will be much more happiness to follow your days than unfortune. Even moreso now that the Pairing Ceremony is nearing. A husband does not want a secretive wife..." He lulled in that voice that was just as creamy as the hide edging his cape. But how low he spoke of it to her, how easily he twisted the voice which was low and warning, to a frequesncy that was meant to seep into open pores, and to corrupt such a desperate mind as it seeked such pleasurable surrender without even moving the decibels in the slightest. The snake welcomed her derailing heart into a cage that held the talon scrapes of a many birds who had chosen to walk into the golden gilded door. Their skeletons littered his mind, their broken hearts dusted his own, and his bastard children wailed his name from moons past...but his ploys kept on. The sea had never ceased it's toil...
and neither would he.

"I've thought quite a bit about you, Daivya." That was all he bestowed upon her, allowing the woman to absorb the drip of water he gave her, that droplet that was just as toxic as a coral snake's kiss. 

There was a brief, heavy silence in which the sylph was resigned to listen to her heart as it tremoured like a war drum inside her chest, breaths rising and falling sharply, a shiver of frosted air to part her lips.

He forced them to breath the same air, and she felt a tremble in her knees, a wobble, praying he hadn't spied it with those bottomless pits of cerulean; presently, her strings were wrapped tightly in Dawson's hands, bending to his will on instinct alone - for a brief pause, she almost forgot about Grayson's rule. His power over the creek wolves, his choice for the selection of wives to pair with husbands, and nearly gave herself up to the ivory prince there, depositing her life to his own grip. No matter the thrumming of her mind, the pulse of her veins, she couldn't- 

Oh, gods-

He was so close. The smoky pitch of his voice reverberated in her ears and the ivory of his muzzle hung only a few inches away; she observed his chest rise and fall, gulping as she absorbed into her thoughts the very shape of his words, the way they slid so easily from his tongue. "...W-What have you thought of me, Dawson?" She whispered in return, swallowing that poisonous droplet he had so generously gifted her.

No doubt the aftertaste would leave a sting in her breast, but for now... it was tirelessly sweet. Intoxicating.

The serpent was all too aware of the effect he had over her, a puppeteer who twiddled her mind on the dancing vibrations of her free-hanging heart. It was all too real, to her. It was the closest to love, to unending pledge of unforsaken trust, to bidden smitten eternity together. Yet to him, it was a play, a curtain which he had pulled affront the stage of his true acts that he hid from the crowd's prying eyes. An illusion, and oh how enrapturing it was for her soft amethysts to glaze over, to silently plead to be pulled further under his calm waves.

"Enough to sway Grayson's call on who you belong with, should you obey simple askings of you, darling." A pairing was a livlihood. It had been made evident to him exactly how thonged the women were with their need to be with a man, a husband who would provide for them, to be the taskmaster of their working hands, who'd call them pretty every now and then. It was easy work to be a husband in this familial hold of their's...But the salted gold had a problem with being tied down. It made lies much harder to perpetrate, it made it harder to get away with the several scandals he had running. He would have to supress his time for a single woman- And that contained the serpent. Snakes were not meant to be kept as pets, nor paired in a life-long binding. 

Thus he would have to keep his composure, and keep to his plan. To stay as close to the pack to garner the eyes of his brusque brothers, to show he was upholding his manly rites, while not being seen with so many women, while keeping their gossping to a minimum. Especially with his name on their tongues.  "We shall see who's household you are christened under, Daivya. I have perused under the possibility of it being Odolf." But which one? Could he convince Harrison away from Oryx? Or rather, could he convince Oryx away from Harrison? Some glimmer of glee glossed over his interested blue's, and it gave effect that he was in fact contemplating taking Daivya for himself. 
But in all totality, the serpent was once again performing an illustrious dance for this dazzling fae.

Daivya was too innocent to fully comprehend that their exchange was purely a game to the puppeteer, who grasped her slender strings between his knowing fingers, pulling her along to the beat of her own trembling heart; all she knew was that there was a chance Grayson would not pair her with the golden prince, and so her hopes must lie elsewhere. She mustn't grow attached to one man over another, to avoid conflict of her own thoughts - but how could she resist, when they were sharing one another's breaths, staring into the pools of each other's eyes?

It felt so hopelessly romantic, but so intoxicatingly dangerous all the same. An addictive tickle of uncertainty stoked the pit of her belly, and the herbalist swalled thickly under the heat of Dawson's stare.

The low, rasping rumble of his words penetrated her skull with adept force, breaking away the bricks of her resolve one by one, a torturous display of his own power over her - he could sweep her from her feet with the quietest of exhales, and they both knew it; her cocoa cheeks burned, pushing away the wave of tempting visions that sought to plague her mind. So unlady-like! The implications behind his statements... how was a girl to respond?

"I... it would be an honour to take the Odolf name. I wonder whether I am entirely worthy," came her flustered musing, sweeping her violet gaze to the frozen earth - if only to avoid being sucked away into the current of his endless watch.

The salted sea swept a biased smile across his lips, the glint of his fangs the ivory tip of the power he felt swell within him in this lovely cornucopia Daivya offered him. She asked the questions in such a modest but mindful way, seeming to try her utmost to keep him smiling rather than scowling. She was a pleaser, a pleasure to the depths of his roving and unceasing heartthrob. Her dipped crown, meek and pleasantly flustered gestures, they had given his ego all of what he had ever wanted for his women. 

A briney sting rushed a fresher wound. Their women. Ever having to remind himself that he wasn’t the sole proprietor of this family. But such responsibilities- he couldn’t bother. So it seemed it was fair he led nothing more than a typical male should. 

“Depending on your aptitude and charisma, you just might be, Daivya.” He pulled himself back, giving the mocha cream room to refresh herself, to regather her mind. She would need it for these coming times. 
They all would.