Hushed Willows world enough, and time
the rambler
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#1
He had slipped again away from the borders of Easthollow, and this time, roved a day and a night, directly to the taiga plains that he and Eleuthera had looked down up from the ridge. From here, he could see trees in the distance, nestled down at the base of the mountain. And, as he had imagined it in his mind's eye, there were moorish floodlands between himself and his destination.

Kincaid sighed to himself, and began picking his way across the still waters, choosing where he could to scale tree trunks and walk along them so as not to get any of the foul-smelling mud on his paws. (He had high hopes, still, that she might again allow him to touch her. Soiled paws did not seem the way to give himself the best chance.)

Eventually, there were more trees standing than there were flat on the ground; the willows here had been protected from whatever force had torn down all the others. And here, along with the thick scent of the willow wolves, there was a certain hush over the land that had Kincaid's ruddy mane standing on-end.

The male tipped back his frost-and-autumn muzzle to sing forget me not1, calling for @Eleuthera to meet him at the borders.

1 | "forget me not" is one of several greeting "songs" that a wolf might howl when coming to call on someone. This one is typically reserved for lovers.
* Kincaid is obviously not a shibe in a cowboy hat. Just a regular, reddish wolf. His avatar is just a silly spiritual portrait.
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#2
✹☾❂
 
Eleuthera had been a busy little shewolf lately. She had become introduced to Kincaid, had given a small part of her heart to him that night, only to be sent off on a mission (with a little espionage on the side) the very next day. Though the entire thing had been ultimately enjoyable (despite the circumstances), she was pleased to be back home amongst her willows and spent several days sleeping and supping and resting in the dappled summer sunlight, the tendrils of the willow branches blowing in the dull breeze and tracing abstract designed into her lilac fur. She barely spoke to anyone, except Lumiya and Orlaith to share her findings, before becoming the ultimate recluse.

However, things were still quite on edge with so many Court wolves flying off to deliver a call to arms and so many others coming to (or simply breaching) their borders. When there was another call at the edge of the forest, Eleuthera tipped her head lazily to scry whatever she could from it — albeit exhausted, she still felt very much involved — but she was surprised to hear it was not only a summons, but a song! The crooning voice drifted over the tops of the willows and came to settle in the velvet lining of her ashen ears, calling for her, specifically! 

Eleuthera did not have to guess too hard who it was. Kincaid had said that he would come to call on her, and she did not take the cowboy for a liar. She had been so so busy and driven with purpose this past week, but many times her mind drifted back to Kincaid and memories of the night they spent entangled in the other’s arms. That’s all she chalked it up to: memories of an innocent affection and bolstering of her spirit that she oh-so-needed. She was a creature meant to be admired and cherished, and under his ministrations, the woman had come back to something closer to life. Eleuthera smiled to herself, checked her reflection in one of several streams that crossed the woods, and eagerly went to greet the man.

She saw him before he saw her; his image, a rusty red presence, flickering in and out of view as the lively willows sought to conceal him. The woman could not help but beam, wondering if this was her reward for having done a good job for Seelie Court. Eleuthera did not stay hidden for long — no, not when he was so close that she could easily reach out and touch him. She strode forward, beaming, obviously very pleased to see him and to hear his song. 
“Oh, rambler,” she greeted him softly, breath lost to the rush, stopping with several yards still left between them. “ You came all this way? "
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

the rambler
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The longer Kin waited, the more eerie the place became; the land was so very quiet, and in the absence of bees buzzing and birds calling, something else seemed to whisper to him from within the trees. A few times he called out a tentative, "Hello?" — but there was no one there to answer him, and he had fallen back into uneasy quiet by the time Eleuthera came near enough to hear him.

His ruddy tail wagged in equal relief and happiness as she finally appeared to him, even though she stopped far short of a proper greeting. Kincaid supposed it was too much to hope that they might pick up where they left off; he wondered, uncomfortably, if she was embarrassed by her actions, looking at him now in the light of day.

"I said I would," he told her, taking a few steps toward her, but leaving still a respectful distance between them. "I can come back another time, if you're busy," he added, giving her a graceful out, if she so desired one. As crushing as the idea was, Kincaid couldn't blame her. He did his best to keep up a friendly an unaffected facade.
* Kincaid is obviously not a shibe in a cowboy hat. Just a regular, reddish wolf. His avatar is just a silly spiritual portrait.
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#4
✹☾❂
 
As always with Eleuthera, her heart called out to him but her body stayed where it was. This whole thing — being romanced, being more than friends — was entirely new to her. She didn’t know what was the appropriate thing to do, especially when dealing with a gentleman. Was it too much, to run and embrace him? What would the faeries think, if an uninitiated member was found canoodling with a nameless man amongst the trees?

Add in the fact that in the time they were apart, the irrational part Eleuthera’s brain had convinced herself that it was all a ruse and she would never see the man again, and it’s not surprised Eleuthera was astonished to see him here, in the flesh. He was a seasoned traveller, married to the road, while she had forsaken herself and settled; found a place called home. There was no hope for it really, was there?

and then there was Séamus. 

But dead wolves tell no tales, and Kincaid had shown up on her doorstep all ragged and roadweary, singing and seeking her attention. Eleuthera simply stood back and took in the sight of him, a simpering smirk on her maw, silently reveling in the fact that he had come for her when there were so many other woman, women just as beautiful and kind as she, in the world. But he was here, calling for her, and none of those other women mattered at all.

She was silent only in voice, however, for her body brightly bespoke her eagerness to be reunited with the curvature of his embrace. She was entirely unaware that he was in the process of convincing himself that she didn’t want him, until he spoke. The idea of him leaving was so preposterous that she was nearly pulled towards him due to the magnetic force emanating deep within her chest. Eleuthera could not help but take a step, and another step towards him — oh, there was no way he was leaving.

Eleuthera giggled, as if Kincaid had told a joke.
“Don’t be silly," she said with an earnest voice, willing him to not overthink things. There was plenty to think about, and many roadblocks to work around, but that was future-eleuthera-and-kincaid’s problem. Suddenly, there was nothing more important than being close to him, and breathing him in, and checking to see if their hearts still beat as one. Her stomach clenched, wondering if anything had changed and hating the idea of it.

They had both been parrying steps, striding a few feet closer here and there, but Eleuthera surrendered and ate up the distance in several buoyant, enthusiastic leaps.
“You’re not going anywhere," she murmured, snaking her neck against his and breathing deep, expecting his nearness to still her heart as it had done prior.

“You know, I was just thinking about you, and then I heard your call."
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

the rambler
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It was only after he made his offer that he read the truth in her eyes: she was pleased he'd come back to her, although why this might be was a mystery to the dusty traveller. All the same, he was willing to take whatever he could get where Eleuthera was concerned, and just as quickly affected an expression of mischief to complement her self-satisfied mien. There was his little troublemaker — the one he'd met by surprise on the mountain, shortly after meeting her ingenue doppleganger.

"As you say," he agreed in a voice that burred low like growl, but his teeth were flashed in a grin rather than a snarl as he smoothed down the fur at the nape of her neck with a few not-quite-chaste kisses. But as they were hovering at the borders of a pack of unknown disposition and membership, this was where Kincaid drew his line, and he pulled back to smile down at her in earnest pleasure, his tail flicking lazily as she confessed he'd crossed her thoughts since their parting.

He, of course, had been thinking of her all too often.

"Well," he said, somewhat flustered, and quickly realized he'd opened his mouth once again without knowing what he wanted to say. He was flattered she'd thought of him at all, and too caught up in that to think of anything clever to say. "Here I am."

He cleared his throat and carried on, pretending that hadn't been just about the silliest thing he could've said. "You still up for that tour?"
* Kincaid is obviously not a shibe in a cowboy hat. Just a regular, reddish wolf. His avatar is just a silly spiritual portrait.
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✹☾❂
 
She breathed deep, taking a heaving sigh and letting the sinew of her shoulders relax — then tense back up again as the warmth of his tongue pressed against that sensitive spot, right at the back of her neck. If anything, this spot on her body could be considered her ‘on button’ and Eleuthera grinned wildly to herself, albeit her face being all but pressed into his roughhewn collarbone. Only when he began to talk and proceeded to say something utterly ridiculous, did she pull back her head and to share her grin with him; looking up at him as if this was all some inside joke, and they were the only ones in on it.

“Here you are," the woman placed her paw atop of his, but simply held it there, light as a feather. “and here I am," she moved closer so that their chests alighted, sliding together once more. “Here we are,” suggested the voice in the back of her mind, but she only looked up at him, silently beseeching him to share what this ‘we’ all meant — because obviously, he had the answer. He was Kincaid. He knew every answer.

The red highwayman suggested a tour, and almost immediately, unthinkingly, she made to steward the man inside — but then Eleuthera remembered that this was not Elysium with its open borders. No, this was a country on the brink of war, and Eleuthera could easily imagine an unapproved visitor being taken very seriously, even hostile.  Oh, the man knew nothing of the trouble he was really walking into! The sprite pulled back and regarded him with a mixture of roguish challenge and simpering questioning. Perhaps this was the part he realized that she wasn’t worth it, and he’d walk away no worse for wear. 

She never said she was a simple woman.

Eleuthera’s lavender gaze dropped to the ground, hating to have to turn down any of his requests for even a moment, especially when it was one she had looked forward to fulfilling.
“Kin, things are on high alert around here," If she sounded serious, it’s because it was a serious matter. The strife she had hinted at in their first meeting had only become worse — in a way, it was a great relief to her that he was here. ”You’ll need permission. " Eleuthera wasn’t entire sure who was ranked high enough to see Kincaid into the willows — hierarchy, right now, was somewhat nebulous — but she trusted that they too heard his call and would be here in due time. 

Her tail dashed behind her, excited to introduce to the willows that had raised her, but not wanting to cause a stir.
"Trust me, you don’t want to be on the wrong end of Orlaith’s teeth!" Eleuthera had seen what the guardian could do, and she hoped sincerely that the firewoman’s rage might never be turned on her. What an inferno! 
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

the rambler
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#7
To his amusement, it seemed they were both struck a little dumb in that moment, or else he was only being teased. Either option was fine with him, so long as he got to keep Eleuthera near. He gave her face a few more perfunctory kisses, smoothing down fur where her run had windswept it.

But just as last time, the peace was not to last. The pack was, apparently, on high alert, and Kincaid remembered her saying during their first meeting that there was some unrest among the packs in the area. He worried, suddenly, that Easthollow might be a part of it, and that he had unwittingly put himself at odds with this wild angel before they'd even met.

"That don't sound good," he said, setting aside, for the moment, a worrying comment about some Orlaith's teeth. "Why don't we set awhile. Tell me what's happening," he implored, dark eyes worried and intent.
* Kincaid is obviously not a shibe in a cowboy hat. Just a regular, reddish wolf. His avatar is just a silly spiritual portrait.
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✹☾❂
 
Eleuthera, in pure blithe contentment, closed her eyes and stuck her nose out, offering a check where he could place his affections (in the form of tidying her windswept fur). It was a nice interlude between her mission across the mountains and whatever was to come next. Eleuthera found that she had been terribly stressed these past few days, despite doing nothing but resting, having been unaware that her dedication to the willows would be tested so soon. Well, Eleuthera was one to rise to the task!

To once again be with Kincaid, she immediately let a sense of home and safety wash over her. Was it ridiculous to feel such a sense of familiarity to a man she still barely knew? Not entirely, but she was her mother’s daughter after all — and being with a pack again felt very nice, but it did not replace the warmth of her beloved by her side in bed at night. In Kincaid’s case, even the memory of him had been enough to keep her smiling. The reality of it was far sweeter. 

They settled in easily and with a sense of closeness that might have been inappropriate for any other set of two wolves. She hadn’t given him many details during their first meeting — which, considering all that had happened since, felt like eons ago — but at this point she was ultimately certain of Kincaid’s good heart and maintained a hearty respect for his opinion on this. She hoped that she was not breaking Seelie Court’s trust by bringing him into the fold.

Though they weren’t actively cuddling, Eleuthera was very much glued to his side. She wanted to feel his bones press into hers, to help the waifish lilac woman hold up the weight of the world, and to speak softly to him, weaving together the words and sentences that were currently constructing their reality.
“There’s a group of wolves that are causing a ruckus," the woman began, looking up at him earnestly. “Kidnapping, trespassing, lying, fighting… I’ve quite honestly never seen anything like it." It was all the truth, and often times she couldn’t believe their arrogance. It was only a matter of time before the allies were fed up and made a move against them.

“They’ve already crossed these borders without hesitation, and have done so to other packs." This was the real danger. If they had no respect for the most basic of wolf laws, what would prevent them from doing worse? What if someone became hurt, or died, because they were too tolerant of the big, mottled man with a silver tongue?

Eleuthera heaved a sigh and cast a glance at the willows, whose illuminated, ethereal branches drifted in the wind as if nothing bad had ever happened, and it had never been the site of any transgressions. The earth easily forgave all, but she couldn't. 
“Normally, at times like this I’d just pick up and go." There had been many times when she and Séamus had taken up residence with a pack, only to learn the subtitles of their beings and easily making the choice to leave — in fact, now that she thought about it, this was the first time in her life, ever, that she had stood up to protect something instead of cutting and running. Now, she had something to protect, even if it was nothing more than dear memories and the bones of the departed.

Eleuthera’s ears fell, and she suddenly felt her chest tighten. If she and Kin were the same, but he did not have the soul tie to these willows, what could possibly make the cowboy stay?Certainly there had been other women before her, and clearly they had not been enough, either. He was destined to leave again and return to the road — that was a simply a fact.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to." Her voice, as she uttered this sentence, no longer held it’s zeal. The thought of it made her sad, and she couldn’t hide it from him.


here, have a whole book!
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

the fire fae
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#9
hello my name was heard-
after these threads; first, second
screw timelines amiright


"Who the hell is this." It was like a summoning, for when her name was mentioned, she felt a shiver, a call to say. Pure instinct was what the woman strived, she simply followed what her heart and soul said, and followed through. In a way, she was one of the fae, for she always seemed to appear in near-perfect moments. It always felt to Orlaith that the earth itself, was weaving its way to call for her, to help guide her in situations that demand.

Or she was just really lucky.

The imposing wolf stood tall in front of the two, while normally fond of the lilac lady, she had a glare, and a growing snarl that was held back. The red wolf did not smell of their own, but seemed friendly with the fairy nontheless, so for once, the overbearing warrior held back her aggression until answers were met.
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the rambler
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#10
True to Eleuthera's thoughts, Kincaid was in the process of convincing himself this was just another fling — oddly out of season, but temporary all the same. In this way, he would protect himself from further misery, even if it made the current situation less of a balm on his soul. (It was not, he reminded himself, this woman's business or responsibility if he got his heart broke.)

I have, said Kincaid, his voice quietly troubled. Eleuthera would likely be able to read the worry in his eyes, if she happened to look up into his face. I wouldn't blame you for leavin', little darlin'. In fact, I want you to come away with me right this moment.

He settled a foreleg protectively over her lilac withers. But if you won't — I think I better stay a spell, jus' until things settle down.

Kin's head whipped around at the sound of another's approach. He still just as swiftly, briefly standing over Eleuthera before he disentangled himself an put a proprietary inch or so between them.

Ma'am, he greeted with a polite dip of his head. I'm Kincaid. A friend of Eleuthera.
* Kincaid is obviously not a shibe in a cowboy hat. Just a regular, reddish wolf. His avatar is just a silly spiritual portrait.
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#11
✹☾❂
 
Eleuthera did look up into his face, and she did see the worry that lay just behind his eyes. She felt it too. Eleuthera had dedicated her life to preserving the willows and the memories of her mothers, but the idea of actually acting upon it frightened her. Truly, she hadn’t thought she’d be tested in this way: torn between her ancestral home, and a man of the road who called her towards what she truly loved most. The world was a funny thing, these days.

She placed a cold, liver-colored nose against his jaw, and held it there.
“Kink, I would love that —" she took a breath, knowing and appreciating that he was not forcing her to make that decision right now. She simply couldn’t, not with so much at stake. “but I would feel so lucky to have you here," Instead, he was offering to stay her; shelter her under his aegis and this pleased her, deep inside, in so many different ways. “I can’t leave. Not now. I… made a promise."

As expected, the guardian of the willows arrived in a flurry of suspicion. Eleuthera had expected this, and even had prepped Kincaid for this a little bit, so she wasn’t surprised. He introduced himself as a friend, which awoke the butterflies in her stomach (any type of relationship with the man was enough to fill her spirit). The lilac woman bumped the road hound’s hip with her own, hopefully conveying that a bow or a lowered stature would likely help his cause here. She wouldn’t think any less of him for it. 

“Orlaith," Eleuthera greeted, meeting her question with the warm smile that Kincaid’s calling deserved. There was really nothing else she could add at this moment, except for “A good friend, " and waited to hear if the firewoman would become the flaming inferno she knew her to be, or settle to smoldering embers. 


quick post so that maybe we can see how Orlaith is feeling, and make a determination about where Kin is for this thread? If we feel like that needs another round or two, i’m game.
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

the fire fae
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#12
I realized I have more threads on the same day,
first, second, third, fourth, now

"I would prefer," the warrior started, "If you announced yourself next time as a guest." Orlaith clearly missed the call earlier, or perhaps ignored it due to dealing with others matters of another wolf presenting himself at the border. Even before, a lot of meetings had happened in a single day, so now she was a bit on edge. Returns, callings, discussions, quite a few strangers were entering the willows, so she gave her warning for the next time.

While more calm on the matter at hand, she still held a dominating stance while looking down onto the red wolf, "Are you staying?" As a guard, she would need to know the duration of his stay. If he was a guest and staying for prolonged time, Orlaith wouldn't want to maul him in the middle of the night if she saw strange movement.
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the rambler
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At once, Kincaid sensed that this was a wolf he would be avoiding as much as possible. The corners of his eyes crinkled at her words, and he was quiet for a beat before replying, Of course. I'll be sure to call, in the future, in a friendly, respectful tone that he did not quite feel in his heart.

He dipped his head in assent and went on, I'd like to, 'til somethin' gets resolved. I don't look like much, but I can scrap when I need to.

He did not want to imply that these wolves needed his help, but he was adrift at the idea of being forced away and leaving Eleuthera to her fate.
* Kincaid is obviously not a shibe in a cowboy hat. Just a regular, reddish wolf. His avatar is just a silly spiritual portrait.
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#14
✹☾❂
 
Call in the future? Eleuthera could not help but cast Kincaid a deeply pleased smirk. It was only at that point Eleuthera felt confident that his heart and intentions matched hers — that a kindred spirit lay close, perfectly complimentary. She definitely did not pick up on any incongruity between the two reddened wolves, one of vibrant hue and the other muddy and travelworn. She figured that Orlaith was being Orlaith, and Kincaid was being Kincaid… and if she liked them both perfectly fine, then why would they not like each other?

Her mind played at the idea of Kin scrapping, and she found herself entranced by it. She couldn’t say specifically why, as she was not a woman inclined to violence, but the way he tracked her down and hovered over her and now pledged himself to fight with her Faeries — it stoked something very primal deep within her. She had a very strong urge to see this fighting wrangler; not to get hurt or harmed in any way, but just to see what the old dog could do.

Eleuthera said nothing, for once, and turned to look at Orlaith.
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

the fire fae
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#15
Oh my god. It was Dante and Lumiya all over again, and Orlaith, was so fucking over this. She had caught the look the lilac fae was giving to the reddened wolf, and couldn't help but compare to the love-struck Queen and her consort. She could be wrong, after all, but honestly did not want to find out one way or another. It also was the issue, it would make it difficult to bully the man.

Orlaith simply nodded at Kincaid, and a minor side-eye toward her fellow fae.

"Make sure you tell the Queen tomorrow-" the flaming wolf looked at Eleuthera, then back at Kincaid, "you're welcome to stay. But if you cause trouble, i'll find you." The 'threat' was with a minor chuckle following through, but if anyone knew her, she wasn't joking. Especially after all that has been done lately, she started to feel drained.

Now dealing with that, Orlaith wished to go relax somewhere, preferbly alone. She would start to walk away if the two had nothing else to say to her.
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the rambler
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When Kincaid was given leave to stay, he gave yet another dip of his ruddy head. "I thank you," he said sincerely, beginning to think that, perhaps, things were even more dire here than he understood. Orlaith, he took it, was a rather brusque shewolf by anyone's measure, but she had seemed rather frazzled during their brief meeting.

Still, he was glad when she departed from them, and turned his full attention quickly back to Eleuthera. "Why don't you take me to your favorite place, and let's set and talk awhile," he suggested, sensing he did not quite have the full story where these aggressive wolves were involved, or at the very least, that there was more trouble in the pack that he might need to know, if he was staying for any length of time. Besides, he had news as well, about his joining Easthollow — he needed to know that being here was not a conflict of interest.

Not that it would stop him.
* Kincaid is obviously not a shibe in a cowboy hat. Just a regular, reddish wolf. His avatar is just a silly spiritual portrait.
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#17
✹☾❂
 
Eleuthera nodded enthusiastically at the firewoman’s instructions to bring the Queen into the know — and formally allowed Kincaid inside the willows as a guest. Eleuthera thought it all a bit superfluous, as she had never needed to do this before, but she delicately reminded herself, this was not Elysium and these were not normal peacetime circumstances. If Orlaith hadn’t been run so ragged, perhaps she would have had better sense and declined to harbor any guest until the threat had been neutralized. For that, the sprite considered herself lucky.

Eleuthera turned to Kincaid, realizing that the guardian was in and out so fast that she hadn’t introduced herself.
“Orlaith for you," the shadowed shewolf offered comically, pointing her nose into the direction of the Fae’s trail. Well, at least the two lovers did not have to sit on her doorstep and longer; they could go inside, get cozy and revel in the fact that they would not have to leave each other’s arms again, if they didn’t want to — for a few days, at least.

Eleuthera was all smiles and a wagging tail as she made to show Kincaid inside.
“Yes, let’s go!" she agreed quite happily, leading the man into her sacred lands.
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands