Moonspear blood [m]oon rising
the bonecracker
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IT BEGINS!

 

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Implied bow-chicka-wow-wow @ the end, but vague.
 

It had been several days of turmoil, of holding onto herself, every piece of it, until the night came where she was in control no more. Gone was inhibition and fear; gone was her hold upon the reins of her ambition, which reared its head high—as high as she held it now. The Ostrega had truly become a woman, now, and with a flourish her plume righted itself just over her hindquarters in a proud arc. She was in season, and she would find what was hers and take it. 

What it was, exactly, she still was not certain. Her mother had provided her with some insight, but here and now only action would answer the curiosity that burned her. She was a woman on fire, and each wave of her plume fanned the heat of it out and beyond her. Hydra weaved in and out of the trees, ascending up a mountain that had always belonged to her mother, her father... her, too; in all things, she had been her parents second in command. 

The heat within her stirred. She wanted more, more, more; like her father, there was the idea of creating, of continuing, legacies already begun. Bettering and strengthening. She considered their bond quietly as she rose, thinking of her father who had fled the mountain. He would return, surely... but perhaps not to the same home he had left. Her mothers fears were not entirely unfounded in the week of her season; she knew no boundary she would not cross to get what she desired, though first and foremost seemed to be to uncover what mysterious spell her body had woven upon her. 

Hydra lingered near a peak with ample space and room, head and plume both still erect as she gazed out toward the horizon. She hungered, but her appetite was not for any food she had ever known.
I'll find that you'll find that I'm lethal
so lay your hands across
my beating heart, love
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And from his own perch along those rises and falls, Dirge did not linger far off. It was par for course in their arrangement, one never all that far away from the other; at least once or twice in the day their paths would diverge and cross whether they intended it to. Though he had his moments where he did indeed stray from the mountainous claim, inevitably he was drawn back to the vistas offered and ultimately, to her. This was no different today, nor was he entirely immune to the subtle shifts of her being.
Whatever allure she had possessed before seemed amplified, but it was hardly more than the obvious. It was in the way she had begun to carry herself, in the way fire seemed to burn in and behind her piercing gaze. He liked to think he was on the prepice of just more than the mountain's edge; he thought he was on the verge of uncovering something good.

It was a snaking path down from where he descended to get to her, but he made it swiftly. A deft, precise step here and there made easy work of the loose stones and loam; he did not feel the need to mask his approach to her even when the rocks scattered in the wake of his movements, for it was a good natured line of interest that drew him in. Whatever she was studying out there along that horizon, whatever considerations crossed her mind, he was intrigued. Even with the gentle wave of his tail to tie all of that into a neat package, he knew she did not stand there with decisions lightly across her shoulders.

"Something catching your fancy out there?" An opening line to another act—his eyes scanned the incline below and then out for what may have been her point of interest.
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The sound of scree cascading downward caused Hydra's attention to shift a measure. She listened and heard the sound of who she knew to be Dirge, by his gait and his step, letting her gaze linger only for a moment more on what was ahead of her before looking to all that she had seen to begin with. If she had not known what she was looking for, she did now. Many things, she admits with a toss of her head and the flirtatious roll of one shoulder. How lucky for me that one stands before me now? Hydra looks to him with a grin before moving alongside him. 

For a long time, Dirge had been her most persistent of suitors. That was not enough to merit him any rewards from her, not of the physical variety in any case. But tonight, her whim seemed to be get closer, and so she did. Hydra mutely pressed her chin against his, and the contact lit the long fuse that had been built over the past days in which she refused his touch almost entirely. Where normally she would withdraw, it was here she lingered, stepping closer to bring her chest against his own.
I'll find that you'll find that I'm lethal
so lay your hands across
my beating heart, love
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Instead of a flash of teeth to urge him away as in days past, she seemed to regard him with the usual pomp and circumstance he knew her for best. Ever teasing, not unlike a cat with a mouse caught in its grasp, she had learned well how to hold his attention. He thought this no different than a time before—they would persist in the same little dance as always. So long as those minute touches lit sparks to smolder, he had little other to ponder than what it was to burn, and whether or not the next gust of wind would carry him away to leave this a distant memory.

"Far be it for me to be a bastion of interest," he remarked offhand; she drew close to him and then against, and he did not resist to touch her while she would let him. Nothing more than a gentle caress of teeth against the velvet of her dark ear. Nothing more than a tease on either end that there could have easily been more than mere platonic ministrations. But he would persist as he had, for he was stubborn as much as he were many other things.

"Is this your way of apologizing for an almost thrashing?" His lips quirked upwards, threatening to betray the humor he found in her fire-and-ice temperament. "I could have been of less interest had you really put those teeth to use earlier," and perhaps this too was only a ploy to draw him in to pay him back for all his persistence. He was no fool as to why, no, but it was still a game to play however dangerous.
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She grinned at his words; truly, he was an eloquent man. It was one of the many reasons why she was drawn to him; his tongue suited the sharpness of her own. Hers took the shape of whip and knife as she willed it, but those were not the only things it could morph into. Now was proof of this. Hydra grinned at his words, her brows playfully rising: me, apologize? Never, she quipped as she shifted away only a measure to better look at his eyes filled with warm honey. She teased again, moving now to nibble against his jawline, slowly, toward his throat (though never arriving to that point) before she paused, tilting her head upward. You do not like my teeth? Here, a small smile was given, her tail waving to again fan out the scent she was not aware she exuded. 

It clouded her mind as much as it would any other that encountered her. 

Hydra observed him carefully, sighing a little before leaning back into him. She wondered, quietly, of things, but was content to be lost in the moment. She did know what the moment might come to, though, if her mothers words carried truth to them. Hydra believed that of any man here within Moonspear's boundaries, Dirge was worthy of her. He likely knew it himself, too; but now, it was time to confirm it. 

What do you think, she drawled, moving against the side of him to better present her rear-end to his olfactory senses, of children, Dirge? Guaranteed followers of our empire to-be, she wrapped around him, now, completing only a semi-circle so that her notched ear flicked near his whiskers. The implication was clear: she thought he was suited for it. Sound mind, sound body, and, well, she—

Before she could let the thought develop to fruition, Hydra exhaled. Be my mate, she offered, my partner—in all things, she invited, those final thoughts culminating to these words.
I'll find that you'll find that I'm lethal
so lay your hands across
my beating heart, love
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Oh, there had never been a doubt in his mind that he was a creature worthy of her affections. He, who aimed high and rarely missed, sought ever to aim higher. If she were a prize then perhaps she were of the highest, ever just out of reach and close enough to taste. A holy grail of what he did not know, the path untaken in a heady, thick woodland—a worn, silvery thread in a tapestry laid bare begging to be pulled.

The inclination to follow her a step behind pulled at him as much as it stirred and coaxed at embers, but she had swung back around to face him before he could even so much as get body to follow head. Her words did not fall on deaf ears but hesitation bound his tongue; he covered this action deftly, reaching out once more to tease at the ear he worked at before she had pulled away. A note of consideration left him as he untangled from a tongue-tied situation. He had balked responsibility well where he could, as life had always been more about the survival of himself.

No, that didn't seem right. He wasn't necessarily the sort to balk at responsibility. No, this time it was a certain fear that rooted him and left him to fumble through a slowing sense of time. It was here on the cusp of maybe, finally about to have a taste of the fountain of youth, he was having a moment of clarity in spite of thirst. His lingering notes of consideration tapered lowly, almost to a growl. The water was inviting.

"That's quite a station you're wanting to promote me to," he answered huskily, feeling emboldened in the briefest of moments and struggling. "And where exactly do you intend to start your empire?" She may have been driven to rush now, coaxed into recklessness with the season but he knew better. Yet how tempting, how terribly tempting and offering that recklessness was—but he was not his father, unable to stand desire in spite of fire licking at his heels.
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He did not answer her immediately with a resounding yes, though he was attentive toward her physically. His administrations she leant into, and were it not her season she might have walked away at his lack of answer alone; but it was, and her judgment, sharp though it usually was, happened to be clouded. His reservations were legitimate ones; ones she also wanted to tear apart, ground up. Questions, questions—there should have only been his answer, and then she could seek to uncover what she desired to! His teeth and tongue against her lobes sent sparks helter skelter down her person, though she acknowledged his words. 

Here, she succinctly said. This was where they would begin; but who was to say where they would end? All beginnings must start somewhere, she mused. It seemed fitting that her—their—own might start upon the very place she was born. She stood taller, feeling suited and ready for the task. She was more than a phoenix burning in its final evolution; it was a fire that would not reduce her to ash, but make her greater. Hydra was ever ready to heed her own calling. 

Her nose pressed appeasingly against his chin, and another warm breath came to caress his chin. What do you say? she pressed again, only ever expecting one answer and craving to hear it from him before she gave herself away to him, body and soul. She did heed her mothers words; this was what would make her certain, this was what would assauge all of her doubts. She knew this was not something he took lightly, else she would have heard yes by now... and despite her frustration with that, appreciation was what she felt more of.
I'll find that you'll find that I'm lethal
so lay your hands across
my beating heart, love
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Of course it would be here, for had that ever been her end goal in all this? For lengths longer than he could recall quickly she had worked him until he had returned; he desired even now to steal her away, to disappear into the wilderness to whatever whim suited them. His heart longed for this as much as it did for her. He was hardly an animal tamed, not so readily caged and kept to be put on display at will, but he also did not believe she would do the latter entirely. Tame him, perhaps, maybe cobble the many needy desires so that it seemed a perfect cage.

Or perhaps not, he reasoned at the tail end of her words. Perhaps he could twist this all in his favor—have his cake and eat it too—and all would seem right beneath the grasp he held on those silvery strands of thread. There was little in the way of doubt that she was incapable of achieving what she set out for; he had seen that passion at work, he had seen the means she had taken to justify every end.

He hummed in the rising tide of struggle to giving in, thinking solely of himself and naught of anyone else. Such may have been in the blood that they shared, albeit however muddied and distant it may have been, but not this crossed his mind. His muzzle sought to slip lower along the crown of her head, towards the coil and curve of her shoulder. Away from her face, ever aware how swift and sharp those teeth were.

"You would risk this in their land," he answered, almost questioning. Were her kin truly that gracious, or blind? He doubted it; they were all cut of a shrewd, sharp cloth, their arrogance honed to fine needlepoints and enough tact and skill to follow it through. He wanted to ask if it would be worth her life, but the words would not come. Dirge could not find the words to explain and not surprisingly found himself unwilling to force them to come. He wondered, instead, if perhaps his own parents had considered such an undertaking. Too late to ask now.

He summarized: "I want to say yes. I truly do, princess. But I do not like the uncertainties." It was a gamble, a risk to conspire and propose. He did not want the empire laid out for her there, but rather one of their own. He had once hoped to tempt her away with such a thing, to reduce that risk for others to interfere or impede, perhaps most of all avoid the swing of a vengeful blade on high. He did not spare a thought whether or not this even crossed her mind, maybe it had, but it was a very real fear in his. If enemies were oft kept closer than friends, then family most certainly sat before it all.
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Hydra considered his words, and grew frustrated. It had not been sound thought that caused them to come, and almost irately, she snapped: perhaps not here. I do not know, addled, muddled, she pressed against him. Again she thought of her mother and what she had spoken of when it came to her father, and it was that she had sought to hear from him now. Nevermind the uncertainties; from this point, on, could they not rise to any occasion set before them? Was he not ready to be by her side for the best, and the worst? 

The uncertainties he did not like were now what she held onto, and despite her unwillingness to do so, and her desire to yield and submit to this desire, perhaps she might have been wrong to consider him the one who might rule an empire alongside her. The doubts had emerged once with Alya's own tongue, and unwittingly came back to life when she looked into the emerald eyes of @Rian

Was all of this for her to realize she may have been wrong in her choice? She was not certain, and her tongue rolled with her temper as she ground out: nothing in life is certain, that was what excited her. Tides shifted and turned; she moved with and against them as she pleased, each time to her benefit. Her judgment was clouded in this moment as to where she might wish to lay the foundation of the empire they had spoken of, but she knew her mother would not settle for such indecision—

She could not do so, either. 

For her own part, Hydra did not see or hear her words as conspiratory; she imagined it might very well be what her parents had made her for. All of her life was leading to this, was it not? Time would tell where her ambition would lead; could she turn her fangs upon her mother? She did not believe it would ever come to that. 

And so she removed herself from his person, blazing, seeking to escape his company lest his silver tongue reel her in, but perhaps in knowing what he knew he would not seek to. She had laid her cards out for him to see, though one remained ever-hidden, as was her way. Uncertainty, after all, was what she thrived within. Again, emerald eyes seemed to flash before her, and they were not her mothers. 

Worthy. What was worthy? Hard to tell; hard to know. She moved without stealth but with ample conviction; one backward turned ear would reveal she might listen, were he to call, but she felt her heart break at the thought that the man she had nearly placed above them did not yet seem prepared for better, or for worse. But she had no time to waste, instinct told her. Her tongue slipped past her lips as she began to pant, her stride not lengthening but neither did it slow down.
I'll find that you'll find that I'm lethal
so lay your hands across
my beating heart, love
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The heat that rolled off of her now was of a different sort and one known well—anger. Dirge was no stranger to how anger worked, how easily it swelled through the cracks and crevices of every other emotion like a helpful smattering of grease to cogs unwilling to turn. His composure remained through piercing barbs, knowing their truth. No, nothing in life was certain, no tomorrow a guarantee; she spoke nothing he didn't already know.

A sigh loosened as she pulled away, the anger flare of fire stirring in every step against damp grit. But her steps had a tell to them, the turn of her ear another suggestion for her to listen and for him to talk. And for a few moments, he found no words again to come, but did not feel the resignation that would normally pursue such a dramatic twist to things. Others he would not have pursued, but she was still set apart from them, and he followed in her wake at first playing the part of a lost puppy.

But soon those steps moved with purpose to catch her though flee she did not yet. In that purpose he too felt the anger seize him and how it simmered beneath the edges of his lips that threatened to curl. Tantrum throw all she wanted, it would not come without parting words unfound until now in the closing distance. He cared not if she would whirl on him to snarl and spit.

"Would you risk their lives then? I've no doubt you'd give yours for theirs to protect them, but what would you do if everything and everyone you know were to turn on you for this, to find it threatening?" The nuances of change were not lost on him; her venture out of adolescence was not the only thing in his peripheral. "That was a lesson my own mother learned the hard way and it cost her plenty to keep her children alive." He laid his fears out, spelt them best he could, and perhaps it would be for naught and she would keep going.
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His words would have fallen on deaf ears, had it not been due to his clear and apparent concern for her. He worried that her family would turn on her; she did not think they would, but he did not know any better, it seemed—life had given his mother a cruel experience, and she considered quietly as, at last, her stride did slow so she could look upon him once again. Her ears cupped forward and she wondered at his words some more as she observed him, absently admiring his handsome features.

You worry for me, Hydra interpreted, but even if she had missed the true point his words had worked in his favor. You really do care... and if they were going to endeavor on this joint venture, she supposed she would need to consider what he said. It was difficult in a time like this, but it was clear she wanted to as she did not lash at him as she would have the week prior. Her anger was swift to flee her, and the feeling of being simply enamored returned promptly. 

Hydra sighed softly and moved toward him. She did not know his mother, but she knew him. He had come of it, and he had turned out—in her bias opinion—brilliantly. Hydra leaned into him, dizzied by her heat. If my mother does not submit, then perhaps it would be best to leave. I do not know. Things have... changed, Hydra's tongue was heavy as she spoke the word. Her mother was no less formidable than she ever was, and if she had the will to she would remain the head of the mountain. 

I will not be met with hate or anger. I think my mother understands, she had sensed the shift in her mother when her preestrus had come, but it was not anger Hydra saw. A newfound awareness. Now, her daughter knew why. And if her own change does not encourage her to step down... I would not force her, she explained. Hydra would test her, to be sure. Press and pull at her will to see if it was as ironclad as her own. There had never been a time she had not protected her family; Hydra would not dream of causing her mother to bleed, or to behave in a merciless manner to the woman that reared her. 

After a beat, she finished. We could find some other mountain to raise our young upon. Perhaps nearby. If things did not work out here, she suggested. Hydra knew at the very least, Lyra would stand beside her. Perhaps even Revui. They could retrieve Alya, and perhaps she would come, too... She wanted strong and sure wolves, but she would need to put up with Nikai if Alya loved him. Which she must; that would be the only reason Alya had not returned to her. Hydra had given her ample time; a visit was due, in any case. 

He had misunderstood her, she reasoned, but now that she had explained... now she was ready to be met with yes. Her patience was more than it had been days prior, but it was not what it typically was, and she would wait no more for it if he refused her now.
I'll find that you'll find that I'm lethal
so lay your hands across
my beating heart, love
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Finally. Finally, it seemed some sort of sense seemed to take hold in her mind. Something to take the heat out of the fire, to temper and cool her. He could work with a compromise; he could work with the notion that perhaps she would consider putting roots down elsewhere. It was a foreign concept to him that perhaps all things would go well, but his had never been that easy of a life no matter how he painted it. Dirge had not been blessed with the privileges proffered to her and her siblings—he did not expect such courtesies to be extended forever, no matter how deep the bond or blood went.

It was natural to worry to some extent, especially with what she asked, no, wanted. It was not just her that he worried for either, but himself. Charon may have seemed to keep him in good graces, or at least had in their last encounter, but would he think of him differently? Of course. He anticipated no more and no less of the wolf who resembled his grandfather. Ironclad armor and equally ironclad fists to rule with; a commanding attitude that was not necessarily unreasonable, but certainly set in a certain way. Amekaze was no pushover either he knew, but thought her to be more level-headed. She possessed the foresight of what could be, he thought. Hydra sought to shake that status quo and Dirge, for all his ambition, carried the foresight and memory to know how easily the world sought to misconstrue.

Yet the tension that lined his features began to slack, and with a shake of his coat he freed himself of it as she drew closer once again. ”You said it yourself—nothing is certain. But there is a certainty in keeping options open. Things will always change and we'll never know until it does,” he said gently, then moving to lighten the mood, ”and besides, why can't there be two mountains of your kin, hm? A single territory hardly makes an empire after all.”
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Perhaps, she entertained, willing to do so. His mood and demeanor both seemed lighter, and Hydra pressed to the more important matter. Her children, if there were to be any, would never be bastards. Not even for a moment. Well? Are you to keep me waiting more than this? What do you say? Will you be my partner in this life? It was a wild conquest he signed up for, but one he at least was not blind to. Hydra looked to the range beyond, and considered with a smug smile: I believe our children might aid us in our conquests. Strong little soldiers and warrior princesses. I hope each inherit your silver tongue, her head turned back to him now, tail waving to waft her odor to intoxicate and ensare. there won't be a mountain left to conquer, when they become of age, her ears pricked, excited by the thought of the strong children they could create.
I'll find that you'll find that I'm lethal
so lay your hands across
my beating heart, love
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Her inquiries teased a snort from him—keep her waiting? She grossly underestimated who had done the waiting and even now, the teasing remarks and toss and turn of her body washed thought from him. But that statement lingered and he thought, why not keep her waiting? Wordlessly he halved the minute distance between them once again, needing no direction nor aid to keep himself ensnared by her wiles. She prattled on and he thought nothing of it; she could talk and talk, dragging out the time to waiting little by little. He too could play that game.

It was however, a game that harmed him as much as it did humor him.

”Me? Keep you waiting?” he added in the silence that fell as she spoke of the future he did not think much of yet. ”I thought your sight was better than that to know how I've pined for you.” A gust of warm air was sent her way as he then quartered distance. How tempting it was now, to reach for her in a way he thought not possible. At least not without the possibility she would still yet send him sailing down the mountainside to meet a certain, resolute end. Jury was still out on whether or not that was a demise he would meet, least of all at her hand.

He persisted then, wondering if the thinning distance between their bodies would coax her on elsewhere. A tentative reach here; the brush of fangs to her neck. He'd know soon enough whether or not she'd permit him any further, and knew only how far to push the line he toed. ”Why just the one life? Why not them all? Perhaps we've chased one another far longer than we realize,” and even the saccharine laden words felt too sweet from his mouth.
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Hydra smirked; she knew full well she had kept him waiting, as likely no other woman had. The slow burn, however, ignited deep within her belly as at last he relented. His sweet words were precisely what she wished to hear, and as he drew nearer Hydra spun in a tight circle around him with the unknown intent to beguile and bewitch, which it seemed he was.

Come then, husband, Hydra prompted, darting away, one last chase until your wait ends, she teased before throwing herself into a headlong sprint. This time around, Hydra did not make him wait too terribly long until they truly solidified their claim upon one another.

The seeds of their future were only just beginning to be sown.
I'll find that you'll find that I'm lethal