Ravensblood Forest take a look at your foot, does it fit in this shoe?
what's a little sweetheart like you
doing with a bloody nose?
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#1
All Welcome 

Nighttime closed its dusky wings upon her, and Raleska was no closer in her search. Rosalyn's scent was not here, and the girl was drawn to exhaustion by her excursion. If Rosalyn was still alive, Raleska heard nary a peep from her..

She bedded that night on a sap-crusted carpet of pinestraw. Any sleep that came did so in fitful bursts -- after a few reawakenings where she tossed and turned pathetically, Raleska finally pushed up from her downy rest, and glanced at the sky above. The sky was crystalline clear, and an eerie silence blanketed the night -- Raleska realized belatedly the lack of cicadas and night-time rhythm had been the culprit to her interrupted sleep.. Perhaps the daily tremors (and the fact they were worsening) had scared all the crepuscular denizens away..
all of which makes me anxious,
at times unbearably so.
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#2
Not all crepuscular denizens had been washed away with the tremors of the land. At least this one hadn't. He prowled like he had motives hidden beneath his movements, each stride taken with a purpose. Yet even his own agenda was hidden from him. What did he want? What did he need? The questions took turns arguing in the halls of his mind that he almost came too close to the stranger.

She blended into the dark like he did. Almost. A lighter underbelly that highlighted her sides, gave away the breathing rhythm of life within. She was not as dead as her stone-solid stance made her seem. Bit late to be up...no?
note: behemoth is primarily nocturnal
as such, his threads will take place at sunset or night
what's a little sweetheart like you
doing with a bloody nose?
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#3
Raleska's attentions had been turned to the silence that haunted the land, but even then she barely heard the wolf until he was upon her. She startled, head whirling around to face her approacher; every blade of fur on end, her eyes lit with ferocity. It was that bastard Dragedan, come to attack her again -- she would not be caught unaware!!

But she was -- and she realized belatedly this man was not that wolf -- thank god, for she had no business fighting anymore. Her posture relaxed, her tail fell -- it was a bit late of a gesture, but it was a gesture all the same. "Fuck," She exclaimed, having no use for courtesy this late at night. "Thought you were someone else. Why are you out -- who are you?"
all of which makes me anxious,
at times unbearably so.
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#4
His fur raised in agitation and defensiveness as she greeted him roughly. Although he had not yet flashed teeth or made a move, it was clear he was ready to dance should she make a move. He was not so in shape for a fight but this could be training perhaps.

Then it all seemed to melt away into nothing. A familiar word leaving her, hanging in the air. You're not the only one who can be out this late. He hummed as attempted to smooth the agitation out of his features. A dark brow arched as he considered her latter question. Why did she care? Hadn't she been so keen to strike him down only moments ago without knowing who he was? Fuck it, he supposed. Behemoth. You? He returned the inquiry back with a hawkish stare, leaving little room for her to decline the question.
note: behemoth is primarily nocturnal
as such, his threads will take place at sunset or night
what's a little sweetheart like you
doing with a bloody nose?
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#5
Raleska cast a glance past the spearing figure of a male, wondering if other wolves lurked in the shadows. The color of his fur had kept him revealed until it was too late -- in a fit of paranoia, Raleska entertained the lofty (and frankly ridiculous) idea maybe he worked for the Dragedans..

Her attention snapped back to the male, who revealed himself as Behemoth. A fitting name, for he dwarfed her, and she was not a small wolf (she had her father Kierkegaard to thank for that). It never occurred to Raleska to lie, though later she could admit she might have been better off obscuring her name in case everyone worked for the cur-furred Dragedans. "Raleska. I was sleeping." She answered dismissively, but then adjusted her tone -- for she realized she had come off as quite offputting when he had, thus far, been trying to smooth what was a frazzled situation. "Why are you out so late?"
all of which makes me anxious,
at times unbearably so.
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#6
Raleska. A unique name fitting for the unique girl. It came as no surprise that she might have been sleeping, especially at this hour. He had found that not most had taken to the roaming of night like he had. Which was fine. He did it with the intentions of being left alone or seeking out only those he deemed interesting enough of his time.

It's how I live. His claim was an honest one as a calm expression settled upon his face. You should try it. You'd blend in. The words almost came out like a low purr. Appearance wise she'd be suited for such a life but he had doubts about her personality for it. Would every bump in the night startle her?
note: behemoth is primarily nocturnal
as such, his threads will take place at sunset or night
what's a little sweetheart like you
doing with a bloody nose?
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#7
The male conceded it was how he lived, which frankly earned him a scrutinizing glare. Why did he live that way? Was he hiding from some horrific past misdeed, or a fugitive of some vehement and fearsome renegade on a crusade for vengeance?

The girl flicked an ear, considered being diplomatic, and then just let her impulsive side get the better of her. Why do you live that way? A slight accusation had crept into her tone, for she could not help but assume the worst.
all of which makes me anxious,
at times unbearably so.
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#8
He didn’t blame her for the tone she held or the questioning curiosity. The male knew better by now. Others were often wary of his nocturnal habits, for good reason too.

I’m typically left alone, my company is either nature or someone interesting. His shoulder shrugged in a rather nonchalant manner. It was the truth, the most necessary truths of course. It’s also a bit easier to travel. No sun beating down upon me, wearing me out even further. He could go on and on listing all the reasons he had accumulated over the years. Yet he hoped his provided answers would satisfy her current curiosity.
note: behemoth is primarily nocturnal
as such, his threads will take place at sunset or night
what's a little sweetheart like you
doing with a bloody nose?
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#9
Raleska tried to detect any semblance of dishonesty in the man’s voice, yet if beguile lingered in his tone she detected not a trace of it. She wasn’t exactly put at ease by his answer, but the pragmatic side of her recognized that might be the best she would get out of him. 

Deciding to switch tactics (recognizing the futility in further challenging his answers, for he was clearly set in his ways — same as she) Raleska cleared her throat and spoke. Well, since I’m up.. You ever see a dark brown she-wolf, about my height, older than me, around these parts? Her brow lifted in a hopeful glance, but Raleska knew better than to put too much faith down.
all of which makes me anxious,
at times unbearably so.
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#10
No. He answered honestly before tacking on something else. I'm new to these parts. He couldn't help her with any crazy searches around here even if he had wanted to. Dude had no clue where he was standing besides in some woods, with some stranger, in the middle of what seemed like nowhere. Even if he didn't have the means (or motive) to help he still canted his head with curiosity. Why are you after her? Was there a villain on the run? Or was it something far less sinister like a roaming family member or long lost friend? He didn't know what he'd do with the information if she gave it but he was keen to have it.
what's a little sweetheart like you
doing with a bloody nose?
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#11
Of course the stranger had never seen Rosalyn. Of course — Raleska was beginning to feel like a hare entrapped in wildfire — all around her the chaos was growing, and she trapped in the middle of it. 

She didn’t bother to hide her frown. My packmate. But Rosalyn was more than that. Rosalyn was the mother Raleska had always wanted — the mentor, the role model — the always constant... and now..

Just, simply... gone.

She just up and disappeared. It’s not like her. How could Raleska explain to a stranger that she and Rosalyn had been to hell and back? That once they had stormed the murky shores of enemy territory to reclaim her, that she had seen Rosalyn through her first litter, had fought and defended alongside her? Some words just weren’t enough.

She stayed a while longer with this man, but before long felt sleepiness overtake her. She was up for an hour after Behemoth left — and it was well into the morning before slumber finally came for her.
all of which makes me anxious,
at times unbearably so.