Blacktail Deer Plateau lestat's tarantella

Very much outside the borders at night. For Fox.

If there was anything outwardly curious about Lestat, it was his aversion to sunlight. Not that he didn't go out during the day, because he most certainly did, when the occasion called for it. That didn't mean, however, that he enjoyed the process. The sun was harsh and altogether too warm, something the wraith did not relish, especially in the dead, dry heat of summer. In the depths of winter, however, he did enjoy an occasional sunbath, as it restored his good mood when he felt dreary.

Lestat had yet to come across a packland, though that would soon change. The scents that meandered toward the plateau in the short distance were strong and diverse, an interesting trait he would remember for future. There was not anything unusual or superb about the land ahead, as far as his flat grey eyes could see; what would draw healthy wolves to its surface? The elevation? The river? The wraith kept a respectful distance from the borders, though he was curious enough to approach and inhale the multitude of scents.

Fox couldn't sleep. She wasn't sure what kept her awake, but eventually, she gave up on the endeavor and slipped from Peregrine's side to the outer reaches of the plateau. Her mind was abuzz, as it tended to be. She thought of Atticus, the now brain-dead halfwit that was Peregrine's brother. What would become of him? It was strange to think that he had been alive and well before she had gotten here, and yet she would never know the "real" him. He was only a shadow of his former self, according to Peregrine. Willow was, understandably, devastated. The fact that he had been a Beta, and the father of a wolf Fox considered herself to know well, only made the situation more bizarre.

The yearling stood atop the cliff that elevated the plateau above the lowlands. From there, she looked down. The moon was bright, but not quite full, making the land below ever-so-slightly visible. But it was the bright white movement of a figure that drew her eye, and she locked onto it with curiosity. He was far enough away not to be a threat, but Fox did not want to take a chance that he would come closer.

Carefully, she made her way down the steep cliffs that were the plateau's defense and trotted toward him. Her posture was tense, but not threatening. “You linger close to my home, stranger,” she said, “I do hope you intend to make your way elsewhere… unless you seek to make this your home as well.” Fox's tone was stern, but not aggressive. She merely did not wish him to get any closer to the plateau.

His presence did not go unnoticed for long, though he had made no untoward advances in the direction of the nearby pack. A female came trotting to his side, her fur fiery as the sun, her muzzle and stomach white as snow. She looked like an overgrown fox, and if he was in a better mood, he might have teased her about it. But as it stood, he was simply curious about the pack she had left to ward him off.

"That is true," he replied blankly, not a hint of sarcasm or laughter anywhere. It was simply a statement of fact. "That choice depends on what you can tell me about your pack, dame de feu." He was gathering information so he and his companion could make an informed decision. There were many packs already established here, and from his Egyptian Regent, there were a few just getting started. Lestat was not one to give his loyalty easily, and he would gather all the information he thought useful to make the right choice.

Perhaps some would have been offended by his flat tone, but Fox actually appreciated it. All too many were trying too hard to be witty or sly, when often just a simple answer was all that she wished for. She was less satisfied with his use of mumbo-jumbo, though she recalled through some vague memory that there had been a creek wolf who had spoken similar words. Fox did not recall a name, nor what the girl had called her, but she did remember it sounding eerily similar.

“We live on that plateau,” she replied, pointing out the obvious first. “It is named Blacktail Deer Plateau, and it is led by me, my mate, and one other.” Fox did not specify where in line she fell, for it did not seem important. “What more do you wish to know?” she asked. For Fox, her choices had always presented themselves and she had gone with them. Bouncing from pack to pack looking for something had never been one of her strong suits. Instead, she had joined the creek when a summoning howl had been called, and the plateau had become her home due to circumstances beyond her control.

His French was lost on her, so he translated simply, "I named you lady of fire, since I do not know your true name." With a deep nod of his head, he continued, "I did not mean to confuse or offend." Before she could interrupt, he swept into bow and declared, "I am Lestat de Lioncourt." He stood with a flourish, a gleam of mischief in his flat grey eyes. Then she was fulfilling his request, giving him the basics of the pack: Blacktail Deer Plateau, led by three wolves.

That did not answer many of the more philosophical questions he had, though there was no way for the fiery woman to know that. "What do your wolves value?" he asked again, watching her carefully. She was strong and quite beautiful, with her brightly colored coat and unremarkable eyes, quite like his in that regard. It was clear from her demeanor and stature that the alpha at least valued beauty and strength, though what else he valued in his pack members could be any multitude of traits.

She nodded curtly at his explanation of the word, though she still failed to recall what the other girl had called her. It did not seem important, at least not for now, and she allowed the thought to fall by the wayside, to make room for more present conversation. He had introduced himself with a bow, and a faint smile washed over her features as he did so. Lestat was a gentleman, at the very least, and she could certainly appreciate that. Briefly, she wondered if Peregrine could be considered and gentleman. He did, from time to time, shower her with sweet words, but more often than not, she brushed them away and rolled her eyes, even though she appreciated his gestures. Fox simply didn't know how to deal with them.

“The same things many do,” she replied truthfully, “Loyalty, a good work ethic, the ability to get along with your comrades, a well-rounded set of skills.” Blacktail Deer Plateau, from what she had come to learn, was a traditional pack in most senses of the word. It was true that their Alpha took two lovers and had broken his pact with the first, but he was not unlike the multitude of other wolves in most other aspects of his beliefs. “A pretty face helps,” Fox added as a jest.

Aside from her obvious beauty, Lestat knew he would soon grow bored of her and this pack. Typical pack, typical creatures. However he felt, he did not let it show. She continued to explain what these wolves valued, and he listened attentively, nodding at the right moments, giving gentle murmurs indicating he was listening. Then she paused, and Lestat wondered if she would say anything more. Finally, she quipped with a joke, “A pretty face helps."

Lestat chuckled, his deep voice sounding like silver bells in the twilight. "I can see your mate has quite good taste," he complimented with a slight bow of his head. The woman seemed flirtatious. Could she be unhappy, or unsatiated, here? "If you ever get bored of him, perhaps you'd like to try a Frenchman? We are quite, ah, eclectic lovers." A smirk threatened to pull at his lips and a mischievous twinkle sparkled in his grey eyes. "Though I quite doubt he'd ever let you go."

Fox grinned and nodded when he mentioned that Peregrine had good taste. She would never tell Perry that, lest it boost his ego larger than it already was. The man thought that he was the hottest shit to grace the earth with his presence (or so it was in her mind), and she had no plans to give him compliments from strangers. But, of course, Lestat was correct. Peregrine had excellent taste. Lasher was a fine example, and Fox figured that she must be quite the catch. Not that she needed any more ego boosting, either.

But it was Lestat's forward offer that really got the fiery girl's attention, and she observed him quietly for a moment, trying to decide if he was making a jest or being serious. She had always been fond of those who were not afraid to speak what they felt, and Peregrine was a prime example of that. He had told her shortly after his bond with Hawkeye had fizzled that he had feelings for her (in so many words). And Lasher was a hoot and a half when it came to his manner of speaking.

Feeling gutsy, Fox responded. “Who says he has to let me go?”

I apologize for not replying sooner.

Lestat was not sure how the red woman would react to his offer, though it was a genuine one. The woman was beautiful and fiery, and Lestat loved the taste of a bold woman. He watched her watch him, amusing himself with what thoughts might be running through her head. What would she reply? Would she be angry and tell him to leave? Would she laugh and act coy? For some reason, he didn't think she was the type to be shy.

What she eventually replied, however, was not what he expected. Even the wildest women he had met had never dared to share themselves with another male at the same time, and yet here this fiery demon was, teasing him. With a little cough, he cleared his throat to speak, "Perhaps you misunderstand. I do not know of many wolves who would be willing to share a fiery gem such as yourself. Surely your mate is no different."

No worries!

Fox shrugged. “You’d be surprised. We have a, ah... unconventional arrangement.” The fireball rolled her shoulders, but she did not reveal more about her relationship with Peregrine. “But that’s enough about me… are you interested in making the plateau your home?” It was rare for Fox to beat around the bush, even if she did make a point of doing so from time to time. Her reason for being here was to either tell him to scoot or convince him that he needed to join.

If it was the former, she would make sure that he skedaddled off into the distance. If it was the latter, she would gladly welcome him into the folds of the plateau. While she hoped that he would to join them, she would understand if he wanted more time.

An unconventional arrangement. The idea tickled within him and a devious smirk formed on his lips, his flat eyes twinkling. "I'll have to remember that." This pack seemed conventional in all else, though its alpha pair might not be typical. She seemed interested in having his answer, but he was not quite ready to give one.

"I apologize for disappointing you, but I must consult with my traveling companion before making a decision." Lestat respectfully dipped his head toward her, knowing she would understand. Lifting his head, he looked back into her bright eyes, smiling. "It was a pleasure to meet you, fiery alpha of the plateau. I will not soon forget you."

The mention of a traveling companion piqued her interest, but she did not pry. Razo had brought Serengeti with him to the creek's borders upon arrival (or had she brought him?) and they had been merely friends. She wondered if Lestat's companion was similar. Considering he had shown interest in her and been surprised by her reaction, she did not think his companion doubled as his mate. He regretfully declined, and she nodded. It was a shame he could not commit, but she thought that he might do so later on down the line.

He took his leave, and Fox stood until he was no longer visible to her. Only then did she turn tail and move back toward the plateau, sure to settle back in next to Peregrine until she fell into a slumber.