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#1
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@Eastwood || Mid-morning, 39˚, Partly Cloudy.

They had stolen away to a forest on the edge of the meadows, plenty of trees for shelter. Some odd fruits lined the forest floor here and there. She didn't dare eat any of them but they did make for interesting scenery while they had (presumably) talked the night away. Eventually she drifted off safely tucked near Eastwood. She could not deny that she had been warm although eventually perhaps she had grown too hot in his thick coat. Something roused her with a small grumble. Scoot over. She rumbled as she stretched her legs out away from them as if the sleepiness was leaving her through her long limbs.
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#2
He wasn't sure how long they had talked, but  eventually, they both drifted off to sleep. He couldn't remember the last time he slept so soundly; it had been too long. His sleep was so deep that even the light of dawn hadn't woken him like it usually did. What finally woke him was the feeling of something painful jabbing into his side. His eyes snapped open. His heart raced as he looked around, unable to get his bearings for a few seconds. Her request brought him back from his confused state, assuring him that he was not in any danger. Then everything came flooding back, and he looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. Awfully demanding, he thought, more amused than anything. He stood and shook out his coat, careful not to jostle her and moved over to sit down and inspect one of the strange fruits now near his paws. He had been interested in them last night but entirely too distracted to investigate. He sniffed the fruit and was intrigued by its sweet scent. He licked his lips, thinking it might make a good snack and then lowered his head, intending to take a bite to test it out.
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#3
I said scoot not leave. She groaned as she rolled onto her back, out stretching her legs before pulling them close to her form. Red eyes cracked open in a tired squint as she saw his form. She had almost forgot that they had spent the night away from the others. It all came back though and she quickly rolled back onto her stomach. Hey. She tiredly called out to him. What are you doing? Surely there was no real danger in eating the fallen fruit but did he have a taste for such?
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#4
He paused his bite to look at her, his face apologetic. I'm sorry, he offered. Yes, very demanding. He picked up his fruit as she spoke and settled back down next to her. The red snack held between his paws, he looked at her. This smells interesting, so I thought I'd try it, he said with a shrug. Then he took a bite and chewed, freezing after a few seconds. It was grainy and way too sweet. He immediately regretted his choice of breakfast. He gave her a sideways glance before spitting out the chewed up apple on the ground at his otherside, his face twisting in disgust as the remnants clung to his teeth. That was awful, he said as he turned back to her.
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#5
Yes, perhaps she was a touch demanding in the morning but in her defense he had offered to be a sleeping companion. That wasn't much of a defense but it did make her feel slightly less bad about not being sleeping beauty. She watched as he settled in with the fruit and attempted to eat some. Only to break her silence with a fit of giggles as he spat out the chewed up remains. Oh come on. It can't be that bad. She teased as she moved to steal a bite. As if to serve her right, she met the same fate as him. As she poorly attempted to get it all out of her mouth. Sorry for doubting you. Her sleepy voice grew soft as she looked over to him with an apologetic gaze.
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#6
She giggled, seeming to find his displeasure very amusing, and he shot her a playful glare. Eleni apparently thought he was being dramatic, so he gladly let her try a bite for herself, watching her with a raised eyebrow as she came to the same conclusion: it was disgusting. He couldn't hold back his own rumble of laughter as she tried her best to spit out the disgusting fruit. I warned you, he added unnecessarily. Maybe breakfast would have to wait until they returned to the group. Once she seemed to have removed the gross contents from her mouth as best she could, he nuzzled her cheek, offering her the morning greeting he should have to begin with. Good morning, he murmured. Sorry for moving. his brain didn't always work so well when he first woke up.
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#7
She shot him a quick look at his unnecessary comment although it was obvious she meant nothing ill of it. Before she could even protest though he acted in a way that soothed any thought of being stubborn. Perhaps it was the sleepiness that made her so brave in that moment but she aimed to bury her face in the fur of his neck, assuming he did not push her away. That kind of goes against keeping me warm. She mumbled into his thick fur. How...how did you sleep? Although it was a simple question she felt awkward asking it. What if she did something weird in her sleep? Or what if she kicked him?
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#8
He held his breath when she pushed her face into the fur of his neck and then relaxed into the affection and tightened some around her. And then she reminded him of the promise he had made the night before. She had a point, but: You did tell me to scoot over, East pointed out, his voice holding only amusement. I just assumed you didn't need me anymore, he teased. 

He smiled when she asked about his sleep. I slept better than I have in a while, he answered softly. There was no question, at least in his mind, why he had slept so well. He knew it was was because of their time spent getting to know each other and her soothing presence that had lulled him into a peaceful slumber. What about you? he asked, hoping he had done the same for her.
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#9
Scooting doesn't mean leave. Just give me a little room to toss and turn. Despite her grumbling voice, she wasn't truly upset at him. It was kind of hard to be. He had been nothing but kind to her during their time spent together. Briefly she wondered why Nirali had ever said he was strange. She had called him very serious and yet...he didn't seem like he was. Maybe she was biased though considering how much she obviously fancied him.

Hastily she was dragged from her thoughts as he answered her question. I slept well. She hummed the response as she practically burrowed into his side, reluctantly to truly let go of the sleepiness that gripped her. So...what's our excuse for not going back last night? While her voice held a teasing tone, she truly had to wonder what they might tell the others. Perhaps not everyone would say something but surely one of her sisters were bound to chime to her with some questions.
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#10
I see, he said with mock seriousness. Well, I'll remember that for next time. He hoped there would be more than just a next time, but he would let her set the pace; he wouldn't want to push her into anything too quickly. Her languid answer made him smile, and he curled around her to drape his head across hers where it was buried in his thick coat. The moment was peaceful, and his eyes drifted closed, opening again when she started to speak. He hadn't wanted to think much past this moment, but her question forced him from his avoidance. Why don't we just tell them the truth? he suggested. It wasn't like they had done anything other than talk and spend time with each other. Plus, they weren't children; they didn't have a curfew or territorial boundaries they were supposed to remain within.
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#11
Of course there would be a next time. Even if only because he sort of just agreed to it. They had a winter to get through after all, right? She had every intention of making him her space heater now. As long as he still never protested against it.

"Why don't we just tell them the truth?"

Why not? She had figured they could but she wondered if that was what he wanted. She was no mind reader, she had no clue what he wanted to make of all of this. Okay. No meekness, no protest, simply agreeing. It would be hard to protest anyway when she was buried into his curled form. She even noticed how he had draped his head over her own. It filled her with an unfamiliar comfort. She soaked in the moment with silence — although she wondered which one of them would break it first.
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#12
She simply agreed. No witty remark or stubborn retort. Not that he minded; he wasn't one for keeping things from the ones he shared his life with, although he might have done it for her if she asked...at least for a little while. But it did make him wonder why she had asked in the first place if it seemed she was perfectly fine with being upfront about things. It wasn't often he felt insecure, but for some reason, he was kind of feeling that way right then. He tried to ignore it, instead focusing on the tranquil silence and the way her warmth seeped in through his fur and heated his skin. But the thought wouldn't budge and finally he acquiesced. Are you worried they won't approve? He asked into the quiet, his doubt working its way into his voice. He did wonder how Nirali would feel about them spending time together, but owing her his life didn't mean he'd let her push him away from Eleni. He was getting ahead of himself, though, and thinking too much about the worst-case scenario. No one will probably even care aside from using it as an excuse to give them a hard time.
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#13
It took a few beats of silence for someone to finally succumb and break it. Surprisingly, it wasn’t the Tilani. Her ears pressed against her skull as she heard the doubt slipping into his voice. No. She breathed the response as her mind began to churn. ”I’m worried what you’ll think. I’m worried of your approval, worried of what you make of all of this.” But she couldn’t go saying that could she? Especially not after only spending one night against his large form. I just...want you to be comfortable. Her admission was barely a whisper into his fur. She already felt as though she was intruding, testing his limits now with how close she was in his form and how much she asked of him so soon. She could not risk making him uncomfortable by whatever she told the others.
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#14
She quickly put his worries to rest, and he immediately felt dumb for asking, although he couldn't help but feel a little relieved that he had cleared that up instead of dwelling on it. When she continued to explain her reasoning, guilt burned in his stomach; her reason was so selfless, where he had been selfish in his thinking. I wouldn't be here if I felt uncomfortable, he assured her. I don't do things I don't want to do...not anymore, he offered next, the words coming out a little harsher than he had intended. He had wasted too much time doing that and had lost himself in the process; he couldn't allow himself to live that way any longer, not since he left Drageda. No matter how guilty he felt about turning his back on them, it was what he needed to do.

Quickly, he calmed himself, an easier task than it normally was with her soft body tucked to snugly against his and her earthy scent filling his nostrils with every inhale. I want you to be comfortable, too, he added gently. Her feelings were just as important, if not more in his opinion.
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#15
Perhaps she should focus on all the good in his words — he wasn't uncomfortable, he wanted to be here — but a particular set of words caused her to pull away slightly. Only enough to look at his face. Not anymore? She questioned softly. Was it even her business to inquire what he meant? Maybe not but she couldn't stop herself. Her curiosity flourished in his presence.

Assuming that she had not overstepped or he did not pull away, she returned her head to resting against him. I'm very comfortable. She assured him with a few small beats of her tail against the earth below.
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#16
At first, he offered only silence to her question. It was a subject he'd rather not go into; his story was sad and he feared she would think differently of him if she learned he was a deserter. He avoided her gaze, his own seeming to be somewhere far away. But he had sort of brought it up, which he was regretting now, especially with her once again resting against him and assuring him of how comfortable she was. He could easily change the subject to her comfort, but he felt kind of guilty ignoring her question, even if he really wanted to. Where I grew up, we were trained as soldiers from the second we could walk; it...wasn't a life that allowed me much freedom, he finally offered quietly, deciding not to go into all it had cost him and what it had eventually driven him to do. Maybe another time. He nuzzled whatever part of her he could reach. But enough about me. I want to know more about you, he stated, desperate to change the subject. The other day, at the lake, you and your sister mentioned something about a Razikale's day. He had been curious about it then, but events had shifted the focus before he could ask about it. What is it?
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#17
Well...you're free now, at least. Perhaps it was not the most consoling thing to say or even the right thing to say but the young Tilani had never been known for her words. Although she was given an out from her poor consoling when he questioned about something she knew more about. Her tail offered a few soft taps against the ground. It was thrilling that he held some curiosity about their culture.

Razikale is a patron, one of many, so his day is the day we celebrate him and those who follow him. A feast, activities, stuff like that. It was a short explanation but admittedly, she thought it might make for a nice introduction into things. No need to overload him with information so quickly. Did you ever have anything like that on the coast? She wondered if she should have even asked, it didn't sound like he was horribly fond of those days but there was an inkling of curiosity she wanted to sate.
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#18
She wasn't wrong: he was free now, and there were some aspects of his freedom that he was thankful for. But it had also been unexpectedly disappointing. He spent his whole life with a purpose, whether or not he agreed with it, and to suddenly have none had been somewhat of a shock. It had left him feeling incredibly lost. The feeling had lessened since finding Nirali and her family, at least, and even more so since being distracted by the spark that had formed between he and Eleni. He thought briefly about sharing these thoughts with her, but then decided against it. No need to dump his heavy thoughts on her today and ruin the moment. 

He studied her face as she answered his question, expression curious. He had never heard anything like that before. What is a patron? he asked when she finished, eager to know more about something that seemed to be important to her. His eyebrows drew together when she asked about his former pack, and he shook his head. No. We were warriors. Our purpose was to protect Drageda and serve Heda. He explained, tensing a little at the reminder of what he had turned his back on.
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#19
It was indescribable how thrilled she was at his further interest. She didn't want to overwhelm him or even spook him off, the life wasn't for everyone. A patron is like a different title for our Gods. Different ones rule over different things. For example...mine is Urthemiel, patron of caregivers. Sure there was a bit more to it than that but it was skimming the surface, searching for understanding and interest. Although his reply of her own question earned an apologetic tapping of her tail. She didn't know what he meant by Heda but tension was present and she had no plans to egg it on further. I see. She responded softly as she gazed up at him. Perhaps she should have been thinking of apologies or how to rectify the tension but as she looked upon him she could only think of one thing —

Did he always look this nice in the mornings? And it probably showed in her mesmerized face that she was thinking a lot more about other things than the serious topics at hand.
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#20
Urthemiel...patron of caregivers. He smiled a little. That fits well, he stated. Do you choose your patron? East asked. It seemed that way, seeing as hers fit so well, but maybe she was a healer because of her patron. 

He was lost in his guilt for a few moments, not really hearing her reply at first. But then it was as if he could feel her eyes on him, and he turned to find Eleni staring up at him. The look on her face made his heart beat erratic in his chest, and the guilt was soon forgotten. He raised an eyebrow at her, a smile raising one side of his lips. Do you need something, he asked, his tone teasing.
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#21
Yes. Her head bobbed in fellow confrontation before she carried on. At nine months old you choose a patron and that guides your role, your place. In her eyes it was a wonderful thing, regardless how others ever thought of it. She had thrived under her patron Urthemiel and she had plans to continue to do so. Especially now with dangers more present than ever.

Her staring had been busted it seemed, his question lingering in the air. The tapping of the tip of her tail against the earth gave away any excitement she tried to keep hidden. Maybe. Head tilting upward with her answer as she aimed to touch her nose against his cheek.
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#22
That seems kind of young to lock yourself into one path, he commented with a frown. What if you change your mind later? he was assigned his role even earlier than that, but it wasn't like he knew any better at nine months old either. And the older he got, the more he realized he wanted something different than the life that had been chosen for him. What if followers of her religion realized the same thing? Would they be forced to continue practicing something they no longer had a calling for? 

Her answer made him chuckle a little, and he leaned into her affection, his skin heating in response to her touch. Maybe? he asked, gently nipping her chin in playful reprimand.
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#23
I'm not sure. She admitted, to her knowledge she had never had an encounter with someone who had decided to switch patrons. Although I suppose that as long as you have a role, it's okay. Only to have no role was the greatest failure of all — morals hazy and no sins present, but they did have some sort of guidelines.

Admittedly she didn't wish to hash out ethics or religion when she had him nipping her chin, leaning into her affections. Would it be a problem if I did? Her head tilted ever so slightly upward to reach the base of his ear and offer a tender touch. She had no idea how he would react and so each touch was done with a carefulness, mindful of his own boundaries.
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#24
His frown deepened with her answer. He was a curious man and usually persistent in finding answers to his questions when something piqued his interest. Maybe Nirali would know, although he wondered if she would even answer his questions about their religion if he presented her with them. But he was intrigued now, so he just might bring it up anyway. He had no trouble understanding the importance of a role, however; he knew what it was to have one and to not have one, and he'd decided the latter was far preferable when the former was not something you felt passionate about. How did you know that healing was what you wanted to do? he asked after a few quiet moments of thinking.

Her playful question made him chuckle softly, but he found he was unable to answer her at first. He held his breath when he felt her soft touch just below his ear, releasing a tremulous breath as he moved his mouth to her jaw. He hesitated, but only to finally answer: Definitely not, nibbling his way down to her neck, his affection gentle but not nearly as soft as hers had been; he tried but as he had already discovered, she stole some of his ability to control himself.
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#25
A small songbird-like laugh escaped her at his question before she offered him a fond smile. It was like a calling. I knew, inside of me, that I was meant to help others. To heal them and make them whole. Because if she could not help herself then she should at least help those around her. Yet to mention such a weakness would surely paint the wrong image of things. She had found such strong guidance under her patron, such strength too!

His actions — his words too, really — sent a shiver down her spine. Some part of her wished to continue, chanted on to push his boundaries as far as he'd let her. Another part cowered in the presence of such strong affections and almost felt unsure of everything as if her own compassion might crumble the mountain of a man before her if she pushed too much. She leaned into him, although her ruby eyes attempted to catch a sidelong glance of his face. Will there be more moments like this? Her words hovered in the air as a whisper between them.

Did he see these moments becoming ritual?
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