Firefly Ravine Americana
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It was a gusty November morning as Njord descended Dragoncrest to explore the outer territories. A great river, which quenched the thirst of Rusalka’s wolves to the North, disappeared into Tangle and snaked out into open plains. Though the man was not ready to explore the Tangle (for Rosalyn had regarded it with an unsettling agitation) he found where the river exited to the South and followed the ravine’s edge. Though it must have raged in the Spring with the snow melt, Firefly’s ravine was calm as a housecat and ambled slowly by. Njord stuck his nose to the ground, looking for prey scent, and wondering who else used this territory as a crossing.
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The faeries were no more, broken apart by the mere touch of the Greymoor Watch, which was growing ever more in number. Valmúa knew it likely that one of her brothers was bound to catch on to her covert operations, but that was not why she was spending the day away from the ravens.
The ravine that separated the two packs had become less interesting now that they were no longer trying to hold the fort, so to speak. She had yet to visit the Willows and cover the smells of the Court members with her own, but that was not her goal that day.
Instead, she headed out toward the north, scouting for prey animals in the hope that she might find something big enough to call in her boys or the harem to help her with. They were due for a large kill. So, in the opposite direction she went along the ravine, nose to the ground.
The man she ended up running into was not of the Willows, nor of any other place she was familiar with. She could see from a distance a russet about his lower body. She stopped and chuffed a firm greeting, her stance neutral but eyes alert.
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After meeting lovely Pheiros (and Merlin was not ashamed to remember the kind fellow fondly) the young adventurer's path had taken him northwards. More out of necessity - because food was growing scarcer and he had to range out further - than because of an actual plan in mind. And after few days of walking he had arrived at a river that crossed his way. There had been no good bridges to cross, where he had arrived initially, so he was prompted to wander westwards and see, whether there was anything of use down there.

He did not come across a safe pass, but he did spot a wolf sniffing out the area and after watching him work for a brief moment, Merlin elected to approach him with a friendly wag and a witty ice-breaker, when someone beat him to it. He cast a side-glance to the woman in the distance, did not consider her dangerous and then went on with, what he had intended to say initially: "Watcha you trying to vacuum up?" 

Shadowposted.
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Scent of prey was mingled with the scent of predators. It seemed many wolves used this territory as a place of crossing from the Sequoia coast to the Taiga. Most notably, Njord could pick out the homogenous scent of packmates… but who? He had only met Kigipigak, who mentioned a pack forming “where the raven’s watched,” but the islander had absolutely no clue where that was. He was like a child in a new world and explored blindly, unaware of how many neighbors Rusalka actually had.

It wasn’t long until he came across a pair of wolves. Though they did not move together, they ranged in close proximity. Copper and fox colors wove through both of their pelts… mainland wolves sure had unique colorations. "Ahoy!" Njord called with a friendly wave of his red tail. The man's posture was relaxed and welcoming, unlike the mature woman with the icrey gaze. The yearling spoke up first, intonation cheeky and fun. Njord liked him already! "Aye, just snortin' dirt," he replied with a wink and a chuckle. "S'that your mum?" he asked, turning to the other sojourner with a cock of his head, wondering how a guy like that had such a bangin' hot mom.
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Boys. Delicious boys.
The other one had colours not dissimilar from her own. He looked young and thin and sprightly. A grin came to her, even as the other suggested that Valmúa was old enough to be his mother. Relaxing, she moved in closer to the pair, eager to have a bit of fun. You think this cute one came from my kisa? She laughed, cackling, voice rather shrill in the cold air about them.
Valmúa wagged her tail as she closed the distance, quite sure that regardless of where these two were from, this would not be a nasty encounter. Maybe I should be flattered, she said, her accent thick as she experimented with a word she hadn't used before. She eyed each of them in turn almost predatorially. They were both lean and well-built. The one with the red ass had curious, blue eyes that the fire woman was immediately taken with.
Her stares were open and obvious. She had never been a subtle woman.
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From that first "Ahoy" to the lady, who appraised Merlin and the other guy unashamedly, the boy felt as if he was back with his old comrades. Which made him both happy and a little sentimental about times that had gone by. "Good stuff?" he managed to ask, before the lady arrived, introduced herself and did not seem to mind at all that she may be his mom.

"Are you available?" Merlin asked, smiling cheekily at the lady. "'cause I would not mind you adopting me," he grinned. "What about you?" he turned to Njord. "Would you want her to be yer mom too? She is a treat to look at. Imagine the number of people we could make jealous!"
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D’oh, I messed up Merlin’s age. Edited my post! This thread is a hoot!

Oh Njord. Poor, simple Njord. His question to the other young man ignited raucous laughter to spill from the woman. She switched the dial from ‘cold’ to ‘extra spicy’ on the turn of a dime, and sauntered up to them with an amused (and hungry) sparkle in her eye. 

You think this cute one came from my kisa? Maybe I should be flattered. She looked them over like snacks. Did it just get hot in here? Njord turned to the other guy with a stupid grin on his face, unused to such attention. Good thing he had way better moves. The islander was not nearly as smooth at flirting.

Are you available? ’Cause I would not mind you adopting me. Damn, that was so good! Where did he come up with lines like that? I better take notes, Njord thought to himself. Suddenly, the limelight was pointing straight at him when Merlin jeered. If Njord didn’t have fur his face would have been beet red! He felt giddy. Maybe there were spores in that dirt he was sniffing, after all…

Njord couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind that,” he agreed, trying to find the line between respectful and… jeez, did it really matter? Seemed the woman was in on the joke! He stole a glance at Valmúa’s figure, testing a newfound vibe within himself. “What’s yer name mama? You on the lookout to call someone your baby?” he asked, smiling at his own cheeziness and closed the distance between the trio.
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It was so easy. Too easy. She adored being treated as a sex object by boys that were barely old enough to have dropped eistu. To the concept of her "adopting" the red one, she grinned, turning to him with eyes that glimmered with a dark, sensational decadence. When the red-assed one joined in the joke, she eyed him as well. Make me an offer, she said, half-serious.
She easily let him drink her in as much as he wanted, shifting her weight to accentuate her waist, flicking her tail unapologetically, as though mildly annoyed. It is Valmúa af Stormskýli, and it depends what baby offers, she introduced, her tone playful, silky with a practiced mischief. The boys were strangers. Her brothers would not have approved of such behaviour, but she had always been free to make her own choices, free to get herself into situations.
And you, my new babies, what are you called? She was a hungry mama. Thirsty, even.
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Well, it could be that Njord had overestimated Merlin's experience in the field by a great margin, because he was just as a virgin in the actual deeds as he was in reading between the lines. He was here to have good fun and have some cheeky word-exchanges, therefore the way the lady looked at both of them - he missed the meaning entirely. In fact - he was quite immune to the not so subtle way his would-be-mom presented herself and noted to himself that Val was good looking, but that was about the extent of the effect she had on him. 

"Merlin," he replied simply, letting the other guy introduce himself too, while he took time and figured out, what the hell she had meant by "what babies had to offer?" Food?
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Valmúa sauntered right up, sashaying her hips in a way that made Njord’s hair stand up on end in excitement. His body tensed as his red tail waved like a flag. The Sveijarn took scent along her nape and spine, neck craned over her with his ears drawn forward. He postured, feet practically dancing as he tip-toed next to her. His tongue rolled over his nose, infatuated, but scared to go as far as to touch her. Would Aegir jump out of the bushes at any second and painfully correct him??

Njord glaced over to Merlin who looked a bit lost despite crushing his opening line. “Njord Sveijarn-Corten,” he introduced himself formally, puffing out his chest like a rooster. “I think your babies would have some fun with play-time, right Merlin?” he asked, wondering how far the role playing would go. He moved over to the other guy for security and back-up (although he played it off with a strut). As much as Valmúa turned him on, she scared him too. She was everything he was not supposed to have.
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Valmúa felt the warm breath of the red-tailed boy as he excitedly took in her scent. For her part, she had her nose at his neck, inhaling the smell of the sea and cliff-side sands. Her tail raised slightly as he started to get too close, and she prepared to nip at him. He stayed respectful, though, and introduced himself. Njord, he was called. He was all puffed up and funny. The other, she glanced at again, roaming closer to him with wide, confident steps.
Njord moved closer to the boy as well, and she noticed, wondering if he really knew the can of worms he had helped the boy to open. Easily, Valmúa sniffed then at young Merlin, posturing so that her body was sideways to his but holding her tail high. She tried her best to gauge the reaction before backing off only slightly, moving around the two of them like a panther sizing up its target. Play-time indeed. She let out a small "heh" at Njord's question, but answered it with another question. Are you boys far from home?
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Merlin was, in fact, a little uncomfortable in the woman's presence and was glad, when Njord moved closer to him for back-up, because it was just the thing he himself needed right now. Moral support. He side-glanced at the younger fellow, who seemed to be all into the girl and for whatever reason would drool equally much regardless of, what Valmua did. Then it was him, who felt like a prey and that circling of hers around them did not help to feel him any different. 

But - then he came up with an idea. He was good with words, so he could carry on the talking part and leave, whatever happened next to Njord. Because he somehow seemed to have a better idea, what was going on or where was it heading, than him. He let out a small sigh, cleared his throat and said: "Far enough to be out of the watchful gaze of mothers, sisters, girlfriends and wives." He felt pretty smug for this answer.
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Valmúa circled them like a shark and it made Njord feel alive – equal parts terrified and taken. He stuck to Merlin like glue, two novice swimmers in dangerous waters. In the deep end. Kiddies in the pool during Adult Swim.

A stupid smile seemed permanently stuck on the Sveijarn’s face. Once again he was saved by the voyager’s quick wit. He laughed and shot the cinnamon woman a wink. “Now there’s a good man!” he poked an elbow into the guy’s side, egging him on. “Aye, far enough away,” Njord echoed. “But I wouldn’t mind taking you back to my place. You’d love the cliffs, the sea… I’d find a pretty pearl for you.” Girls loved gifts, right?

“What about you Ms. Stormskýli? You come round these parts often?” He shot Merlin a glance, leaning into him for a moment, blue eyes wide as if to say ‘this is it, dude. I’m going in. Pray for me.’

[Image: tenor.gif?itemid=7352674]


Njord abruptly stood up, falling in line with Valmúa. He leaned in sooooo close that the ends of the fur barely touched. Is my heart going to explode? Njord thought to himself as he made eye contact with the woman.
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The fire woman couldn't get over how adorable each of them was. They were like children who had stumbled across a gun, unlocked and possibly loaded while grandpaps was asleep. The smile across her face was strange. She didn't look particularly happy. It curved in a simultaneously coquettish and cruel way. She could tell these expressions made them both quite uncomfortable.
The red boy had a witty tongue. Valmúa opened her mouth and laughed exactly once, pleased by him. Njord agreed with a jab of his elbow, explaining that he, too, was far from home.
He then proceeded to make a rather provocative suggestion. The sly grin she had been holding transformed into something much more genuine at the thought of a gift. Such gifts would please the ravens of the Watch. Perhaps she could get the red-assed boy to bring her something shiny indeed. I love pearls, she lied, having never seen a pearl.
Valmúa was about to answer his question when he came in, quite close to her, and made eye contact with her. She did not break it. Her eyes were heated, sharp, like a fine steel. His gaze. Blue. Boyish. Drinkable.
She broke the moment by sharply nipping at him and letting loose a playful growl, catching her teeth on his neck. It all lasted maybe two seconds, which no doubt were awkward for poor Merlin. I live there, at the Watch, where the ravens circle, she said finally, gesturing toward the mountains. She swept around again for a few paces, looking from Merlin to Njord, enjoying the heat.
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Frankly speaking, Merlin felt relieved that Njord seemed to take the initiative in his own paws and all that was left for him to do was remain a good wingman. He did not know the term by name, but he had got a knack of understanding, what he should do. Help his friend (that he had just met, but - hey - friendships been formed under more trying conditions) to get, wherever it was he wanted. 

"Don't forget about the glorious sunsets and food extraordinaire," he added nonchalantly, as if he knew, exactly, where Njord lived and what it was like there. He watched them two interact with mild curiousity, but kept his expression composed, not letting his awkwardness on.
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Merlin chimed with positive review to give Njord’s crib a 5/5 star rating on wolfdates.com. What a wingman!! How could the northern woman resist sunset views and cliff-side dining? Valmúa‘s expression softened at the mention of gifts. Njord would remember to bring the lady a special something.

Her gunmetal eyes ensnared his ocean blue gaze and Njord felt completely set aflame. Every hair stood on end. Time moved in slow motion. She leaned in close. Would they kiss? Suddenly her teeth raked the fur in his neck and pinched down the the skin. Njord flinched and stepped back, but the pain didn’t deter him. His expression and the curl of his red tail said it all: what a woman!

His trance was barely broken by the next breadcrumb of information Valmúa provided: she lived ‘where the raven’s circle.’ Wait, wasn’t that where Kigipigak lived? The pale man had said he lived ‘where the raven’s gather.’ Same same? Though Njord was tempted to ask, it felt taboo to mention another man when you were trying to pick up a lady.

Njord remembered he had asked Rusalka’s leader, Rosalyn, but she didn’t know where that territory was, either. Valmúa gestured over her shoulder towards Sunspire mountains. Riddle solved? With an arch of his brow Njord looked towards their jagged peaks, “The Watch, huh? Where the ravens circle. So it’s a date, then. I’ll pick you up at your place,” he said, watching her sweeping tail lash like a lioness'.
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She wrapped him steadily, easily around her proverbial finger. Merlin was more difficult, evidently immune to her wiles. She watched him with a softer gaze and licked her lips lightly without noticing. Valmúa looked as though she was hunting something small and cute, something that would taste excellent once she managed to get her jaws around its fine little neck.
Njord and his adorable little red tail curled. She wanted to play him like a card from an excellent hand, but more than that she enjoyed every bit of him, right down to the scent of his youth, born from the sea. The two of them intrigued her, and she silently wished they might follow her into forbidden oblivion; the thought made her feel heat, and she opened her mouth to breathe for a moment and cool the fire within.
It is a date, gæludýrið mitt, she answered smoothly, her tongue sweeping over the words as though it was a fine wine she wanted to last forever. The fire woman turned then toward the mountain, as though to leave. Her tail swept intentionally to expose the fur of her hindquarters, and perhaps a touch more. Turning her head, she glanced almost dangerously at the both of them. You may join him, Merlin, she added, though it seemed clear from the boy's expression that his eistu might have forever receded.
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"Aye, I am fine," Merlin replied. "Would not want as your son meddle in your personal affairs," he winked at her, smiled, but felt glad that she seemed to be leaving. There was a limit to gorgeousness he could take and at the moment the figurative kettle was already blowing steam and splurting water all over the cooker. A bit more and there was a danger of gas leak and explosion.

"You will have to return him though," he added after a little pause. "Would not want to run in a trouble with his pack, if you ate him alive and such. You know, what I am talking about," he warned and gave a devilish grin to Njord.
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Last one from me! This is my 50th post! :D Wheee!

With a flounce of her hips Valmúa turned away and swept her tail lasciviously. Njord leaned to the side to get a better look, his neck stretched out to capacity. You would have though his head would've fallen right off. When the woman turned back to regard them, the Sveijarn quickly collected himself to appear more natural and laid back. He paced towards Merlin, rejoining the bachelor as they prepared to go their separate ways.

The swan accepted his invitation with a lilt in her intonation. Not only was Njord presently enamored with the Stormskýli sister, but he also had a passion for all things Nordic, and so her pet name further fueled his interest. The Sveijarn idly wondered what she had called him. Valmúa also invited Merlin. Kinky, thought Njord. But, like a good wingman, his friend politely declined.

“I will see you soon, then, Valmúa,” Njord called to her. Later, his hormones would wear off and the anxiety from “first date jitters” would set in. Maybe he would seek out Merlin to give him some more good one-liners. For now, he would spend a bit longer bonding with the other man and going through play-by-play of WTF just happened before heading back towards Rusalka.
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This is good to archive methinks but feel free to add an exit for Merlin :)
Ever a good boy, Merlin declined the offer as Valmúa had anticipated. She ran her tongue along one of her canines. It was always the ones who were less enamoured with her that she wanted all the more. He even demanded that she return Njord, joking that she would eat him.
I will try not to get carried away, she said, though the statement was empty. What should have, by all accounts, been just a couple of inappropriate jokes had quickly escalated into an attempt at a date with two young men. Valmúa was essentially the embodiment of "carried away."
With that, she winked at them, and turned around to the Watch. She smiled to herself. What fun.
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