Swiftcurrent Creek fel

aw but UG wolves esp <3 backdated to ohhh the 1st

the mountains were behind him. asmodeus had never enjoyed the stony places, and so saw no reason to stay, appealing women or not. he fucked off with some semblance of interest that he had stayed so long in a woman's presence — without her body on offer.

tongue lolled now as he paced toward a stream, thirsty for the frigid snowmelt. he drank his fill unhurriedly, then scented the air. wolf. and nearby. following the tendril of it, asmodeus discovered that a pack was tucked close to the curve of the stream, and surveyed immediately for the fragrance of receptive women, crooning a single note into the air.

Kitten was simply a lone wolf, and lonely at that. She had unwittingly lost the trail of Terance, and though she had half a mind to follow it the other half of her mind urged her to find alternative pastures. Everything happened for a reason did it not? And if it was meant to be, well, she would find him again. 

The leggy girl had been simply moving along, on her way to elsewhere, when the sound of a howl distracted her. It was one she had heard once or twice when it was her familys season; the howlers were always chased off by the husbands. 

Well, now there were no husbands. Kasatka knew the caller was near, and so it was not without innocent interest that she elected to lift her own head and call back to see what might happen. Why were the howlers called off? She trusted her family of course, but... her curiosity won today. Kitten was without them here, for now.

snowy ears flicked forward with a sharp interest. an answer, a question. female, young. inquisitive,

i want to make you feel things, the casanova sang back, voice becoming more full-throated. there was indeed a husband here, a powerful one from the scent-marks, but asmodeus saw no reason to fear unless the bull came bolting for his throat.

he stepped forward, experimented with the air a second time. her direction was not yet clear, but asmodeus suspected he would receive an answer.

The answering call was met with a squint. Feel things? She would be two come April, and yet no man had ever made her feel things yet; her family had coaxed her out of her last heat (coaxed was not the word for it) so early she did not yet know the burning fire of Spring. 

Licking her chops, Kasatka answered a little breathlessly: I already feel things, naive, not the sort of things he meant—and yet her voice, that she sang back, betrayed her interest and intrigue both. She wandered, darting toward the direction his song had come from.

i will show you others, asmodeus invited. she would be arriving now, he suspected; warily the pale lothario searched again for any sign of the highly ranked male from the nearby pack.

but he was alone, and so he stepped lightly through the snow in the direction of her voice, taking care not to blunder over the heavily-scented borders not far from where he now stood. black eyes glinted in the muted light of the winter day; he was searching for her, waiting.