Greatwater Lake Not the Man I Once Was

Setting: Evening — 19:12. 80 degrees — clear skies, sunset, light breeze.
Set on the eastern edge of Greatwater Lake.

@Simmik

Exploring the area around his territory is mandatory. He need to know what resources he has close by. This lake is a good one. It takes roughly 24 hours to travel to and they can fish plenty and bring it back to their den. If they really need to that is. They have plenty of water sources for being in a desert. 

Still he finds shelter beneath a cluster of smaller birch trees and the like only a few feet away from the edge of the lake. A beautiful view of the sunset and the flat land before him. Donovan leans against one of the trees contemplating going for a swim when he stops in his tracks. Still by his place at the tree, he feels another presence in the area.
Does he even dare look around to see who it is?

She was eager to get home and as the sun began to set, she was faced with a dilemma: find somewhere to sleep for the night or travel in the dark. Home was just another day's journey, less if she kept a quick pace and didn't stop to mess around or rest, and the thought of being back in her forest by late morning almost made her forget how tired she was—emotionally and physically. She had known the trip to see her family wouldn't be easy in more ways than one, but she hadn't quite anticipated all the difficulties. 

So, although she was yearning to sleep withing the comfort of her forest and eager to report the highlights of her trip back to Mal, she finally decided that even a few hours rest would do her some good. Just a few hours, and then she would continue on. She smelled the water of the lake before she saw it and decided it was as a good a place as any. Plus, she was thirsty. Distracted by thoughts of rushing into the cool water and lapping it into her parched mouth, she almost missed his scent on the breeze—almost. For fuck's sake; could she not catch one single break while on this trip? It had just been one thing after another it seemed. 

Her feelings regarding Donovan were still very confused. She couldn't seem to stop caring about him no matter how hard she tried, but also, she was incredibly angry with him. He had lied to her, and all the evidence supported that he had led her on intentionally, which stung more than anything. She was usually a good judge of character, yet she had been so wrong about him. So wrong that she had done things with him that she had never done with anyone else and all because she trusted him. But apparently her trust was misplaced. She wondered if he even cared how his lies had hurt her? why did she care if he cared?

And his co-leader? Did he know about their run in the other day? That crazy bitch would have attacked her, unprovoked, had she not been injured already, and that just didn't sit well with the Beta. She was willing to let things go once she was sure they moved, but now she wondered if they would continue to be trouble for her and pack, as well as their allies. It was all a big, confusing mess—one she needed to talk to Mal about before figuring it all out. 

She kind of wanted to turn around and leave; she wasn't ready to face this yet. There was still a lot she needed to think about. But, she could tell he had sensed her presence, which meant it was too late to leave and hope he didn't realize she was there. She sighed and made her way to the water, lowering her head to drink while watching him out of the corner of her eye. What did she even say? She couldn't seem to summon one single word, so when she was done drinking, she lifted her head and pinned him with her fiery gaze as if she could find answers in the striking yellow of his gaze. 

oops, i didn't actually mean for this post to be this long, but oh well

You're good! It’s nice to read!

Donovan lies about minding his own business. He decides not to check out who’s skulking about him — he only partly cares anyway. Though soon enough he doesn’t have to look around, the the supposed stranger saunters into view. Their form is a sleek white, beautifully painted orange-pink in the setting sun. He doesn’t recognize that it’s actually Simmik at first. So, he languidly watches them, not all too concerned for who they might be. Donovan is having a nice day, he’s not trying to let anyone ruin that.

Then suddenly everything changes and the other wolf seems to have seen him. I mean, how could they not? He sticks out in a sore thumb. The eyes that meet his own are a fiery orange and not because of the sun. Sure they become more vibrant as they gaze upon him and finally then it clicks. He recognizes who it really is. It’s not just any white she-wolf, it’s fucking Simmik.

A clear mask of astonishment is out over his face and he’s standing with the snap of a finger. Not missing a beat, he holds eye contact and practically runs over to her in a brisk trot. A soft yet uncertain, “Simmik?” falling from dark lips.

He looks her up and down fro any injuries and wonders why she’s here, so far away from her pack. Then he gives a genuine smile. It’s gentle in appearance yet hesitant because he knows that she’s pissed. “How are you? What are you doing all the way out here?” He asks softly to her.

<3

She tensed as he jumped up and ran over to her, unsure at first if it was in aggression or surprise. After what had happened between their packs and between her and Nemisis, she had no idea how he felt about her anymore. But the way he said her name first made her relax, the soft, uncertain sound of his voice suggesting that he had no ill intentions today. But just as quickly as the tension left her muscles, anger filled her chest—anger at herself for the way her heart skipped a beat at the softness in his voice and angry at him for addressing her in such a way. How could he be this way with her after having done so many terrible things? Was this just a game he played with her?

She met his smile with none of the playfulness or softness she might have shown him before. Instead she studied his face with cold distrust. It hurt more than she thought to feel so distrustful of him, but after all the lying, and everything he had done, she wasn't sure she would ever be able to trust him again. 

She didn't immediately answer his question; she wasn't sure she how or if she wanted to give him any information. There was a battle raging inside between her heart and her mind, and anyone studying her eyes close enough might catch glimpses of it; she was having trouble keeping the feelings behind her mask while so tired and emotionally spent. I'm— she finally said, but then her word was quickly cut off. She looked away, out over the lake. Why do you care? she finished softly, leaving it ambiguous as to which question she was actually answering—both probably, but even she wasn't entirely sure.

As the sun illuminated her snowy white face, it becomes a vibrant pink-orange color. Accompanied with her beautiful orange eyes one could say he’s politely distracted. Yet as soon as he looses himself in her, he’s brought right back by the sinfully distrustful look she gives back to him. His brows raise only for a moment and his eyes search her face but already knows what he’s looking for. She’s absolutely pissed and she has a right to be. 

Then her defeated reply hits his auds and he’s looking to her like she just grew three new legs. “What?” He says back. “I understand you get the impression that I don’t care, but I do. You haven’t wronged me in any way, so there’s no reason for me not to wonder about your wellness.” Then he sighs. “I also get that you could rip my face off right about now. Talk to me. Ask me whatever you want.”

Damn right she was mad. And his continuing to act like he gave a shit about her was just salt in her already festering wound. Talk to him? Ask him whatever she wanted? She thought ripping his stupid face off sounded like a better use of her time but okay, if he wanted her to talk to him, she would. 

She stood and stomped over to get in his face. You're an asshole, she spat at him. The anger bubbling up in her chest made it easy to ignore the warmth that radiated from him—the warmth that used heat her blood in a very different way. You say you care yet you kept all of that from me? she said, her voice a little calmer but with no less fury. How am I supposed to believe you? Simmik asked. And with the way things are going between our packs, why should I? In that same vein, why did she want to believe him? Why couldn't she just cut him from her life? It was so confusing and infuriating—It made her feel like she was betraying her pack.  

She shook her head and searched his face, losing some of her steam to exhaustion. She was so tired of being conflicted about this. Your co-leader seemed perfectly happy to attack me while I was minding my own business by the way. Had she not been injured, things might have gone differently. Her eyes narrowed. She knew quite a lot about the nature of our relationship, too. What, did you go around bragging about how you tricked me into sleeping with you? She looked away as pain filled her expression. She had come up with this whole awful scenario in her head, and she just wished he would give her some reason to believe it wasn't true. He had seemed so genuine in his affection, it hurt her pride and her heart to think it was all some game she fell for.

She could’ve hit him and he wouldn’t have done anything back to her. In a fucked up way, he finds the fury in her eyes so attractive and he would probably let her beat him within an inch of his life. Fuck. What he wouldn’t do to just snatch her up and rub himself all over her snowy white fur and nibble on her ears and neck. Make her sing that brilliant song for him once again. He has a problem with women treating him like trash and he fucking loves it. He adores a good spark in his women.

Guaranteed, if she looks into his eyes long and hard enough she could that familiar glaze of sheer want swirling in his canary hues.

Still, even with these fucked up and sultry thoughts bouncing around his mind he listens to each and every word she says. He completely understands where she’s coming from and he doubts there’s anything he can do to convince her otherwise. True he never told her, but he never lied either. He doesn’t need to lie. He’s too proud and couldn’t give a fuck enough to lie about something. Hence why he told her he wasn’t a good man in the first place. 

Still their ground values are so so so different and it strains their relationship. Or really just Donovan strains it with his lack of morals and lust or blood. 

First he addresses the first half. “You don’t have to believe me, I can’t stop you. Just know I’ve never lied, I’m no proud to. I’m sure you know this of me by now. The relationship of our packs are ruined half because of me and half because of that nosy white shewolf.” His voice becomes stern. Not so much at Simmik as really just the thought of Huā. “She is too weak to face me on her own. That is why she gathers allies to solve a domestic dispute between her and I. She’s not worth being a leader at all.”

Then he scoffs and shakes his head at the thought of Nemisis threatening Simmik with her vile words always tainted with venom. “I was not aware of your interaction with her. No, I did no such thing. I smelt of you, I couldn’t hide it. She gets fucking jealous if I do much as look at another shewolf. Even though we’re not mates.” He shrugs. “There is no changing her. I can only tame her enough so that she doesn’t kill everything that is set before her. Even then, it’s difficult to get a hold on her.”

She had been looking straight into his eyes, and she hadn't missed the want in his gaze. She had insulted him and was in his face, and he was turned on? Under different circumstances, she might have been more receptive to what he wanted, but right now, all she wanted to do sink her teeth into him—hurt him for hurting her. 

And his reply didn't help things. Did he or did he not care? Because telling her that she didn't have to believe him didn't really make it sound like he did. And then he insulted Huā. Don't, she said just as sternly. You can't stand there and insult one of my allies to try and make your point. She had every right to do what she did after everything that happened. She shook her head. And you're not really helping your case by telling me you basically don't care if I believe you and then insulting one of my allies. All he was doing was making her more angry. 

She rolled her eyes and sighed as he told her more of Nemisis; she really didn't care to know how he dealt with her. That all sounded like his problem. My brother was with me when all this happened; he's a part of another pack in the mountains. So now she has caused more problems for you. She shrugged. Sounds like you need someone different leading with you that isn't going to ruin your relationships with other packs over something as stupid and petty as jealousy. Just a tip from one leader to another.

He gazes upon her softly. “Dear. It’s not an insult. Leader to leader, it’s weak.” He parrots her words. His eyes are not taunting though. “At least where I’m from it is. My pack is very independent. Self reliant. We’re strong enough that we never needed any allies to get what we needed done.” He sighs once more. “It’s a difference of view. Of culture Simmik. Can you truly blame me for that? For my opinion?” Then he addresses her other point. “I say that because it’s true. I cannot make you believe me. I will stay true to myself and you to yourself. I can not control what you think. You probably think I’ve lied and tricked you with just about everything.”

Moving on to Nemisis he shakes his head side to side. “I will have to put her in her place sometime.” Then his eyes light up, almost maliciously. “I enjoy the savagery she caries herself with. Though she needs work on honing her skills, she is a good leader in her own qualities.”

He steps closer to her, eyes never leaving her own. “I have not lied to you. I admitted to being a piece of shit. What else can I do? This is who I am.” His voice is soft. Then the tang of soft anger spills into his tone — betrayal. “I’m a savage. A monster. The devil himself. A harbinger of death. That’s what I’ve been told my whole life — since I was a pup. I grew up like that and I cannot change.” Then he blanks slowly, orange mixing with prideful gold. “But to my pack, to my mother and father, I’m a saint. I will forever be a saint. I will die a horrible, bloody death as a saint. You cannot change this about me.”

Her eyes narrowed as he used her own words to refute her statement. She could see that she was getting nowhere with the stubborn ass. Still, Some problems are too big to deal with as one pack, she pointed out. Allies are an important to have. That was a lesson he should learn now before he had to learn it the hard way. As for their differences in views and culture, he was right, but that didn't mean she couldn't blame him. And when he stated that she thought he lied and tricked her, she nodded. Pretty much. I don't know what to believe anymore. The side of you that I know is so different from this other side I've only heard stories about. She honestly hoped she never had to see proof of it. 

She vehemently disagreed with his opinion of Nemisis as a good leader, but it wasn't her problem to worry about. She had given him her advice. Your choice, I guess, she offered with a raised eyebrow. 

He moved closer and she tensed. She didn't think anything he could say would lessen the anger she felt anytime she thought of him, but what he told her about his childhood just about broke her heart. What kind of parent tells their child those things? And he thought that was it for him? That no one could change him? She was stunned. She looked up as a hard swallow moved down her throat, the tension leaving her muscles as she lifted her muzzle closer to his ear. What if I want to try? she asked softly. She felt like anyone could change for the right reasons. And she was naive enough to think she could change him if he would only let her.

Donovan nods leisurely at her comment. “I agree. Would you be surprised to hear we have some?” He comments referencing the subject of allies. 

Then she speaks about how she’s only heard rumors of his horrid half. The side of him that desires death and gore. The evil prickling of fucked up thoughts and the forever itching need to kill and cause chaos. She has no idea. She doesn’t know how fast he is to kill or attack. Yet her and her allies don’t know the fact that he is willing to do what he must to keep an ally or to stay at least neutra with a pack. They didn’t even try resining so neither will he. They will get no more mercy from him.

Then she gives her insight about Nemisis and quickly as it came the subject of her is gone. When at first he stepped forth she seems cautious. Now she comes closer and breathes the most peculiar words he’s heard yet. What if I want to try? And Donovan is inhaling a calm breath at her closeness. Taking in her scent and the want to press himself against her almost wins. Almost. He’s stepping back so he can look her in the eyes.

“It’s true.” He finally says, almost sadly. Referring to whether or not she should believe everything she’s heard about him. “Everything you’ve heard is true, Simmik. Though not to the extent to which you allies play it out to be, enough of it is true that I cannot deny it.” His eyes are passionately gazing into her own. “You’re welcome to try, darling. How I feel towards you will not change, no matter the relation of our packs or allies. Though it’s sad to say, I’m sure you’ll grow to hate me. Something I don’t want to see happen, but find it inevitable.”

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. Yes actually, she answered when he mentioned allies. I'm surprised you were able to stop pissing everyone off long enough to form an alliance. She wondered if this pack knew the real Donovan? The one she clearly didn't know. Why couldn't her version of him be the real one? And he didn't even deny it; no matter how much she wished things were different, it was becoming blatantly obvious that he was very much a bad guy that did bad things she would never be able to justify, nor would she want to. 

For a second, she felt something from him—a need to be close maybe? She thought her words had woken some kind of possibility in him or made him see that his life could be different. But then he pulled away, and she studied his face with sadness in her own expression. You could make the choice to not do things that would make me hate you, she countered in response to his grim prophecy. You always have a choice; doing the right thing is just harder than succumbing to your impulsive desires. and on that note. I care about you, Donovan, and I want to believe that I can change you, but if it comes down to a choice between you or my pack, then I will always chose my pack. There was a big difference between wanting to change him and actually being able to change him. Mal held her unwavering loyalty; nothing would change that, not the way she felt about Donovan or her longing to make him into someone she knew he could be. Things were just too complicated now.

He chuckled darkly at her first sentence. “Perhaps we have some things in common.” He says, referencing his allies. The onyx, coy wolf coming to mind. 

The sadness that hits her eyes make his own emotions stir. Something he doesn’t like to happen so often. He tries to keep his own face pleasantly blank, but certainly is failing. The only thing betraying his emotionless facade are his honey-gold hues. The flicker of something inside them is different. He feeling shit he doesn’t usually like to feel.

He nods to her, eyes flicking away when the feelings inside him begin to show a bit more. He’s becoming transparent. He doesn’t like it. The simple pleasures of the body and mind is all he chases. He cannot risk getting into another Sasha situation. Eventually he’s able to meet her gaze again. The lack of eye contact so out of character for him that he’s almost positive she’s seeing right through his tough act he’s playing up. 

“I understand. I do have the ability to might good decisions — to make the right one. My right is different from your right it seems. My morals are all kinds of off balance.”

Yellow orbs drift away once more and he’s conflicting with himself. She cares about him. That’s wild. I don’t want another Sasha. One side of him combats. Not everyone is that like two timing bitch though. The other side fights back. Now he doesn’t want to say her words hurt him because they don’t, but he understands where she’s coming from. He too must pick his pack over any personal matter. The life of the many comes before the life of one, after all.

He’s able to look her in the eyes once more. “I too would have to choose my pack if something were to happen. Just know I would not willing and intentionally hurt you, no matter what happens.”

Well that didn't necessarily make her feel any better. I suppose you have to in order to form an alliance, she answered, hiding the unease she felt about it. She wanted to ask more about his allies, but she wasn't sure he would tell her now that they were on opposite sides of this brewing turbulence. Plus it really didn't matter, did it? 

Of course she caught the fleeting proof in his gaze that what she said had affected him; her eyes were locked on his, searching for emotions he might be trying to hide from her. And then he looked away, and she knew he was battling with something—a battle he didn't want her to see. Seeing him this way hurt her heart more than she had been prepared for. She touched her nose to his jaw, leaving it there only briefly as she tried to comfort him. 

But the comforting touch was all she could offer him as his next words made her heart sink in her chest. He was right: their morals were too different. Her scale of right and wrong was vastly different from his, and it would continue to cause problems for them. His views were deeply ingrained as were hers, which made her wonder how plausible and sane it was to think she alone could change him. No matter how much of herself she gave to the cause, would it matter in the end?

He looked away again at her admission, and she wished things were different. She could see he was conflicted no matter how hard he tried to hide it because she was just as conflicted. When he met her gaze again, her expression would be sad once more. So neither would pick the other over their packs, but neither would hurt the other one either—she felt it went without saying that she wouldn't be able to hurt him if it came to that. That realization would torture her long after their conversation today. I don't know where that leaves us, she said quietly. They were in an impossible situation. This time, Simmik looked away. She couldn't meet his gaze anymore; it was just too painful.

She listens to him politely. At his blatantly odd behavior she even offers him comfort. He likes it, the comfort in another’s touch — in Simmik’s touch. He even allowed his eyes to flutter closed for a nail biting second. The gold of his irises disappearing briefly before he is able to open them and meet her gaze once more.

Finally he awaits her own reply. Heart beating at a thousand miles an hour he honestly wonders if she’s going to tell him she doesn’t want to ever see him again. Rather, it’s a much more neutral sentence. One that shows the fact that neither of them really want to acknowledge. Even now as he chases her somber gaze, she is the one to look away this time and he huffs out a frustrated breath.

“We can still see each other, no?” He asks. He would still want to see her, but really it’s up to the snowy wolf before him. “‘Cause I would never deny a meeting with you, dear.” He admits, cracking a pitiful smile.”

All this time, she thought she was strong—born to be a warrior and with a unwavering sense of right and wrong. But now, she felt weak with him standing there asking her if she wanted to keep seeing him. She should say no, she should say that they should go their separate ways and put this in the past; it was the best for them both. But it wasn't what her heart wanted, and no matter how level-headed she was, she always struggled to go against her heart.

I want to, she said softly, her voice strained some as if she had to force the words from her mouth. It was weak and impulsive, she knew. It was the wrong decision in so many ways. I know I shouldn't, but I still want to see you. This time her words were a little more steady. She finally lifted her gaze to meet his, worry in her gaze as she spoke again. But what happens if things get worse? she asked. What then? If they continued feeding whatever was between them, what would happen if things got even more complicated between her pack and his?

I want to. Those words might just bring a bit of joy unto his heart, yet he knows it comes with a catch. He can tell by the way her tone of voice falls that she’s about to say something right after it. Though he wears his emotions on his sleeve at her first three words that he doesn’t even register the rest. Or he does, he’s just not as interested in those one but they’re necessary to answer. 

Her eyes speak wonders to him. So much anxiety and worry, fear for what will come between their two packs. So he gives her a simple answer. “I’ll give you full control of it dear.” He whispers softly, brushing his own whiskered maw against her cheek before pulling back to continue. “Just tell me when you want to end it. Tell me when you can no longer stand the sight of me for whatever I’ve done. I will be eagerly awaiting each and every one of our meeting until that moment.” He side eyes her playfully. “Even then, perhaps you’ll want to kill me in the future, but you know I like a bit of spark in my women.” He comments slyly and nudges her a bit more playfully even though the matter of topic is grim.

The way he seemed to light up when she admitted that she wanted to keep seeing him pretty much sealed the deal for her. There was no way she could wipe that look from his face now. She still had warnings screaming in the back of her mind that this was very much a bad idea, but for whatever naive reason, she cared more about making him happy. Why she cared so much about that was currently beyond her scope of understanding; she barely even understood what all she was feeling. 

It may have seemed like giving her all the control was a good thing, but it honestly made her feel more anxious about everything. Why did she have to be the only one who held the power to end what was between them? Are you saying nothing would make you want to end it? she asked. If I hold all the control, what happens when you don't want to see me anymore? Because if things went badly, maybe he would decide this was more trouble than it was worth. She knew his grim words matched with his playful nudge were meant to lighten the mood, but it didn't; it only made her brain explode with more reasons why this might not be a good idea and in return made her feel even worse about ignoring all of it to be with him anyway. Sorry, she wasn't feeling very playful right then. She offered him a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head. That's not something to joke about, she told him, raising an eyebrow. She hated to think what he might do to make her want to kill him. Just the thought made her chest tighten, and she moved closer so that she could nuzzle her face into the soft fur of his neck.

For a moment he thinks everything’s going to be alright and he’s finally settled the anxiety within her. Though he quickly finds out that isn’t the case. He takes a mental note to not joke around when she’s in a serious mood, or they’re speaking of a serious subject — especially regarding their relationship. He can see the anxiety burst within her and he knows she’s gonna get him now. Rather after a roll of her eyes and a scolding she’s cuddling against his neck and chest. Donovan doesn’t miss a beat before he’s easily craning his head over her own and as he speaks his voice reverberates through him.

“I can guarantee you that unless we were actively at each others throats, as in killing each other, I would still want to see you. And I can bet even if some crazy shit happened, and I’m say if, I wouldn’t even want to lay a tooth on you, darling.” Then he sighs. “I know it’s not something to joke about but I can guarantee you it wouldn’t happen.” 

Angling his head downwards he begins licking and nibbling down her neck, stopping at her shoulder then smoothing the roughed you’re area over with a black tongue. “I would never want to see that happen with us.” He hums seriously.

It was easy to forget all her previous reservations while in his embrace, and even easier as he offered his reassurance that he would never not want to see her and that he would never want things between them to be so bad that she would want to kill him. His words sounded so genuine that in the back of her mind, she wondered if they were honest, but she pushed the doubts away. If she was going to keep seeing him, then she needed to trust that he was being truthful with her. Or at least try to trust him again; it was easier said than done.

Of course, it was even more difficult to remember why she had been angry with him in the first place when he was offering affectionate licks and nips down her neck and over the fur of her shoulders. The tension finally left her muscles and her expression softened against his neck. Neither would I, she murmured quietly into his fur. 

She was quiet for a few moments, nuzzling his neck some more before speaking softly. I was going to stay here for the night before returning home. Do you want to stay with me? She was unsure what he had planned to do originally, but she much preferred spending the night with Donovan as opposed to spending it alone with her thoughts.

He can feel the tension, or at least some of it, leave her body. She’s calming down finally. He doesn’t miss the quick reply she whispers into his fur either and it has him smiling. Nothing teasing or malicious, just a regular smile — something most deem Donovan incapable of.

He pulls back fairly quick to look her in the eyes. He holds clear and shameless excitement within the honey orbs and his smile widens, showing the tips of deathly fangs and his coal black tongue as he speaks. “Of course I do.” He chirps deeply. “It’s been a while since we got to spend the night with each other. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to.” His dog-like tail reveals the rush of endorphins as it waves pleasantly on his hips and his thick ears cup towards her.

“Perhaps it can be just like old times.” He chuckles and lowers himself into a play bow. His smile becoming devilish. “How about some tag, or a spar, my darling?” He teases, his voice deepening.

In no time, he’s off, a bout of rumbling laughter following. Large paws thumping against the green grass as he sprints off to a group of trees clustered near the lake. Weaving in and out of them he’s sure even then she’d be able to catch him.

It warmed every part of her to hear him say that he had been wanting to spend the night with her again. As much as she knew she shouldn't be indulging in this, she just didn't care—not right now anyway. She grinned up at him, meeting his gaze and letting her own tail wave happily behind her. 

When he lowered into a play bow, her tail raised and waved harder. She lowered herself, and nodded. She had been so stressed throughout her whole trip that playing with Donovan sounded like exactly what she wanted to do. She was about to launch herself forward at his face but then he was up and gone, sprinting ahead towards a group of trees. Simmik wasted no time setting off after him, knowing she could easily catch up. 

He lead them into the trees, weaving around the trunks as if that would help him lose her. She only grinned in return, releasing her own playful laugh as she pushed forward. 

She quickly closed the distance between them, coming up on his side and nipping at his shoulder. She dealt more playful bites down to his leg, hoping to trip him. Either way, she beamed up at him and said: You're it, before skidding to a hault and bolting off the way they came. She only ran at full speed long enough to get away before slowing some. She didn't actually want him to not be able to catch her after all.

Even though he weaves in and out of the cluster of trees, the swift female is easily able to catch up with him. To which he can’t help but let out a playful growl when she nips his shoulder with a sweet little You're it. before she’s running off again. He knows she’s not going at her full speed, for her fit body and legs scream athleticism. She’s allowing him to catch up to her and, honestly, he appreciates it. It makes the game a bit more fun.

As he gallops behind her, if luck has it, he’ll be able give her a quick nip in the butt and bite at her hind leg, attempting to get her to trip.

As anticipated, he caught up to her once she slowed. What she wasn't anticipating was his nip to her hind end. She drew in a sharp breath and looked back at him just as he was delivering another nip to her rear leg. The distraction was enough to make her lose her footing and stumble a little, but she recovered quickly and turned to jump up at him with a playful glare. She wanted to grab the fur of his neck between her jaws to get back at him. If she was successful, she would try to push back and get him to the ground so she could jump on top of him. Or maybe he would just let her anyway, even if she wasn't exactly successful.

The pinch to the meaty portion of her rump make a fit of genuine, rumbling laughter to roll from his tongue. The incredulous looks she shoots back to him has him attempting a wink. Though his attempt to trip her wasn’t his best, even though he didn’t really try that hard, it still came out fruitless. 

There’s always room to try again, or so he thinks until her weight is hitting him. Her teeth latch onto his neck and the attack seems successful enough. Surprisingly enough, she’s actually able to take him down to the ground. He drops and skids an inch or two int he grass and he gazes straight up at her, a suspiciously devilish look in his gold hues. He wants her to anticipate his next move, but he doesn’t want to fight her enough to get her off. He fucking loves it when she’s on top anyway.