Blacktail Deer Plateau wisteria; growing [m]

he had wheeled all night with the stars.
now he woke to a trembling beneath the earth, a lashing, something lasting only a moment. but it set the primal boy all on edge; his single eye glowed feverently and his ruff prickled.
it was @Astara he sought at once; he set carefully down from the plateau to seek her out, pacing into the shared land between where he had made his bed and the not-so-distant pack. they were strong, settled on the river; merrick was disgusted by their very existence, and had he not been so perturbed, might have floated the idea of raiding a cache or two with his merry companion.

astara too felt the groan of earth underfoot, and was rattled by it. her first instinct was to hide, to burrow -- yet as the earth shook again, astara suddenly believed the ground beneath her could not be trusted. how groundless she felt, rushing towards merrick in sweeping strides -- eyes rimmed with something akin to foreign worry.

she inhaled deep, sifting through the scents on merrick's fur. another rumble stole beneath her, causing the girl to startle. what was this infernal grumble -- did merrick know?

he did not, and the ignorance plagued him. moreover, it had ruined his plans to locate indra and parade before her the sum of his misdeeds embodied in his dark companion. the desire resonated within merrick; it drove his thirst, his hunger — but now it seemed he must be swayed by other things.
come, he signalled. it was time to depart the coastline, to melt themselves into the shadows. the man vengeance; they would take up his trail and follow it to wherever the cur had made his bed. safer than residing here, though he would have liked to meet the hunter again.

whatever shift plagued them, merrick did not know; astara hid her disappointment, pulling from merrick’s gilded ruff. it did not matter then, whatever it was — they were together, and astara did not believe any force could part them. 

she followed merrick’s gesture, moving along at a smoothly controlled pace despite the growing unease that stirred in her belly. they would make their way, she knew, to vengeance — the man that had in some way imparted a lasting impression on the duo. astara’s expression was keen as they prowled, two beasts abreast — made unconquerable by their incomparable connection.

there was little to do for the time to pass, for astara did not talk and merrick had become accustomed to her long silences. life beneath the rule of the man called vengeance. how would they fare? it would be a different clime altogether — the male had seemed acceptant enough of their resistance to a structured life. and despite winter's imminent arrival, merrick decided that he and astara could simply leave if they so chose.
at length he nipped her flank and dashed ahead; the scent of water filled the air and he desired a race to it. copperburn eyes dancing with the interest of diversion, merrick fell into a playbow and let his tongue loll, taunting, taunting.

while the silence spread its softening wings between them, astara thought.

she thought of vengeance, of their future -- she thought of merrick, how he would fit in, and jealously -- if any other wolves would dare administer affections upon him. this thought darkened her heart, and she lifted her gaze to her companion as if to reassert he were hers. it was then he cheekily nipped at her flank -- instinctively astara's tail flew up and a razored ridge of fur lifted along her spine.

dropping sinuously into a playbow herself, astara offered merrick the steeled glint of one bared fang -- and then she lunged after him in a scatter of flurried paws.

merrick charged ahead, tongue lolling flippantly. it had been some time since he had felt the keen edge of diversion that had nothing to do with his darker lusts. no, with astara, he was truly free. that they headed for vengeance reminded the boy he had intended to take the shadow to see his mother, and perhaps come away stained with indra's blood: a debt repaid for having abandoned him after giving him life.
for now, however, merrick lay such contemplations by the wayside. a fox bounded before him, startled by the young wolves, and the yearling immediately changed tactic, slipping effortlessly from playful jaunt to focused hunt, ears thrust forward as he bounded through the weald in pursuit of the hapless creature.

astara kept close to merrick's heels, adjusting seamlessly from playful pursuit to focused intensity. the transition happened in the blink of an eye; one minute the little blackbird seemed jaunty, and the next, she seemed more hateful haint than playmate.

merrick prowled ahead, focused on the vixen they pursued. astara went along for a moment, and then had other designs. eyeing the slim band of skin taut over the bone of merrick's hock, astara sauntered forth as if to hunt alongside her companion.. yet, that was not her plan -- with a nip at merrick's hocks the little shade pulled towards him possessively, a flash of both greed and insecurity pining in her gaze.

he was taken in by her feign, by the swing of her narrow hips; a yelp of surprise jolted from his throat as she swept her teeth low and then darted ahead. astara's expression was not lost upon merrick, who leapt toward her with the intention to give chase.
if spurred, the shadow would flit nimbly, and he after. graceful in his own right, the yearling nevertheless did not possess his companion's nightbound alacrity, but was dutiful in his efforts to keep pace with her, pale teeth flashing for the tip of her jet plume.

he gave chase, drawing a simple smile that withered swiftly from astara's lips. in long strides she weaved, feinting around the bare face of a scabbed rock. she would tease -- slow and then fast, lingering just long enough for his teeth to grip wisps of her hair, and then she was off again.

a new light glinted in her gaze, of something more primal than jealousy or even, fear. she swung abruptly back to merrick, facing him off with an almost-insolent stare. meanwhile, the tip of her black tail arced ever so slightly, canted to the side over her thin hips.

something there, something present and darkening behind the veneer of bared tooth and inviting step. merrick had not known how to answer before, but now the boy thrust out his narrow chest and stepped confidently toward the shadow. whispers; they crowded mistlike and crowblack at the edge of his hearing, his awareness, but merrick was unhearing.
utterly consumed by astara, he stepped forth and nudged deeply between the sharp rises of her shoulderblades, nipping there with a firmness he continued as a possessive growl rose in his throat and he sought her own with a heated kiss.

he answered her taunt with a bold thrust of his chest, his copper gaze smoldering. astara’s head rose, ears bent forward with the slightest hint of a smirk turning the dark corners of her muzzle. 

then, he advanced — drawing his muzzle along her shoulders, spine, neck. 

a tremble snaked the blackbird’s spine as she answered his growl with a deep boom her own. her head turned sidelong, teeth raking his cheek in a gesture hollow of tenderness. many nights they had slept along one another, many days they had touched, platonic — yet a new spark stirred under the hollowed beatings of astara’s chest, seeking absolution in merrick’s form with timorous vigor.

this new heat beneath his flesh; it perplexed and titillated merrick. his nightshade regarded him with an expression he had not seen upon her cold features before, and he answered by circling ‘round to her flank, gliding there with slender muzzle to seek her scent.
absolution sought a priest; perhaps that would be ensconced in him, as merrick gave himself truly over to the coursing in his blood, allowing instinct to guide him now, to dictate his stepping-behind and the low sound of his quest for her invitation to continue.

instinct bid both of them, though astara found her mind beginning to question all of it; the alien sensation, the hidden her implacable emotion welling within her. her stomach ticked as the coldness of his nose raked past her, her spine arched —

and then he guided himself where she could not see; her indigo gaze sought the menacing copper of his own as she turned her head sidelong, this time a snarl welling from her throat. 

a quick lunge, and astara’s teeth sought the meat of merrick’s flank in antagonistic urging, meanwhile her blood pounded against her skull to a new shrill and inescapable staccato.

the pinch of her teeth spurred him on; merrick found himself answering by drawing astara roughly into the circlet of his thin forearms, conscious mind fading to the more insistent throb of want and flesh.
she was sinewy and catlike beneath him, dangerous with each impatient shift of her corded body. but to him she belonged; to merrick she had chosen to submit for the time being.
and he to her, pressing forward with a boyish eagerness that failed them both several times before merrick resettled his footing and found her with a throated gasp of surprise.

merrick pulled against her forcibly, and in that embrace astara rested her jaws against his forearm, a low snarl sounding from within as he shifted above. 

she knew not what to expect, her heart thrumming to new heights — until at last his shuffling yielded a violating sensation so uneclipsed, that astara scarcely muffled the yelp of surprise against his dark fur. his gasping mingled with the heavy inhale of her own; as he pressed onward astara found the sensation, acutely uncomfortable at first, become something overwhelming and hungering beneath her companion’s labors.

her sudden cry stilled him, but no more arrived, and so merrick began his traversing within the heat of her, unsure why they had not found each other in this way before. he was careful as much as he was able, limbs tense with the effort of it, but at length he found himself buffeted against astara with a vicious seeking of the plane just from his reach
— merrick felt his skin swell and catch fire, the build centralized in their connection; he cried out as he was driven over some invisible precipice, and moaned wordlessly, amazedly, against the back of astara's wicked little head, held in thrall, persuaded again.

even if she was capable of speaking, the blackbird had no word for this -- how it heightened her senses, pushed by some peripheral force to a funneling of sensations -- a growl rumbled from her throat as merrick's speed increased.

and then the zenith was hit, the marker subdued, and a strange warmth billowed within -- inside, astara found something akin to total union. in the weeks that followed she would pursue this fleeting high with a purist's unblemished ambition -- but for now astara only wished to show merrick was hers' alone.


a full throated growl parted from the blackbird's lips as merrick moved at last to separate -- the last of that sensual feeling gradually dissolving as he parted. astara turned and pulled at him, downward -- holding him not unlike he had held her moments before.

he was no lover yet, but what merrick lacked in skill was rescued by his youthful stamina. he roused against her as she drew him down, teeth raking through the fur of her cheek. and yet he found contentment to lay as he was, their dark limbs entangled. no need for words; their lot, that. she a silent wraith and he happy to be in her loving quietude.
he breathed in the scent of her, of them, and found a stirring in his soul that was at once both unnerving and unexpected. merrick preened the sable fur beneath her chin, still, a comfortable warmth stealing into those recesses he had carefully left bare these past months.

no physical fruit manifested from their union, yet a new stirring was birthed between the two of them. in merrick, quiet rivers of deep emotion — and in astara, a novel sense of belonging. 

their limbs threaded, astara lifted her chin under merrick’s ministrations, her eyes briefly closed in content. here she drew herself possessively around merrick, and breathed in the augmentation of their scent. 

if they were a pair before, they were certainly one now — astara had but skimmed the surface of terrible union, and now pined for merrick in more ways than idle companionship. he was her soul tie, her other among a world of strangers. the cold to her snow, the dark sky to her night — one.

one; bonded; soulmeld
satisfaction, as she had done for his fears and for his hatred and for his cries in the night, all these months
and now this between them, and his boyish hunger rose to pick at the resultant wonder that emerged in his heart. whatever it was, merrick felt no need to name it. this confirmation, he determined, only further cemented the truth that they belonged to one another over and through and completely, and no creature would sunder that.