Black Morass glowbell [m]

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instead of returning to the fen, teya took herself southwest and crossed the barrier mountains once and for all. her efforts brought her to a blackened, sucking land, but it was more than nauseating. the place held several plants the girl had never seen before; she stared open-mouthed at yellow-winged corvids and shied away from large dragonflies bumbling self-assuredly through the mess.
waterways beckoned, and unthinking teya drew toward them, ready as always to fish whatever depths she discovered upon her travels.

Kynareth’s been patrolling, despite his new potatoes to care for. He has to continue to do his job as an alpha of the Saints. His pack is swelling with the abundance of new pups being brought into this world and he finds pride making itself known as he puffs his chest out.

Today, he goes on a regular patrol as usual. Moving into the swamplands of his mountains. He owns this whole place and he’d be damned if he let a single soul that’s not in his pack past these mountainous borders. So, it’s a surprise to him when he’s able to catch a whiff of another’s scent and he stops dead in his tracks. He can tell it’s female by its unique musk, but what has him concerned is how they got past the rest of the pack. These walls are impenetrable and there is no other entrance besides the one at the northern part of the Strath. It makes his fur bristle with irritation and he feels his upper lip twitch as he trudges on towards this unfamiliar wolf.

His head is hung even with his broad shoulders as he follows it. His circular brows are furrowed and he’s got a stern expression set on his handsome face as he moves in a fast walk. With all of the pups being born, he finds himself more aggressive to protect not only his own, but Arlette and Derg’s too. 

That’s when he sees her — a stark contrast against the mossy, wet, earth colored background. A woman of bright blondes and and vibrant orange. He watches her for a moment, moving about the swamp. Then he moves in, hardly making himself scarce. Rather he makes sure she notices him. His imposing form is large, muscles shift beneath an impressive coat as he moves towards her.

He lifts his head some, puffs out his chest in a dominant manner. Her beauty makes some of his anger and resentment to a stranger in his grounds lessen. A smile crosses his maw and his eyes brighten only a tad. 

“And who might you be, miss?” His deep voice drawls smoothly to her. Hopefully he would coax an answer from her sooner rather than later.

and teya, blissfully trekking in complete ignorance of the wolfish scent that filled the air, lunging through the shallows in ignorance.
the land seemed then to tremble with energy; teya swung her small muzzle up sharply, hackles flaring shoulder to tailtip. arcturus was large. eljay too was tall.
this man was massive; so frozen in terror she was that the raven only could glower through her eyes, seeking to pin him where he stood, attempting imperiousness in a hummingbird flight beneath a bear's paw.
"i teya. of brecheliant," the girl introduced, inching away from the close assuredness of the stripestone golem.

Teya of Brecheliant. She answers back and Kynareth wonders if that is the place she was born or a pack. For he uses the Abbey in his name to signal where he was born. He has not heard of this Brecheliant ans he wonders where it is, whether it be a problem pack or her homeland. 

He shows his confusion with a playful tilt of his massive head and a quirk of a circular brow. “And what is that? A pack? Your homeland?” He asks back. His voice remains smooth and he doesn’t move a muscle as to not scare the already flighty looking woman.

he did not draw forward. slowly teya smoothed and straightened. her widewater eyes dashed across the markings that covered him; he was unlike any wolf she had ever before seen. swiftly, the raven was reminded of the dog that maia had let into the fen, and now something darker and prejudiced woke in her.
but this man was far more horrifying, far more wolfish and worthy of respect than that one had been. hadn't she gone, after all? "yes," the violet answered. the scentings of the place rushed her, centralizing themselves solely around the creature that had glided to meet the fisherwoman.
"you have name also?" teya inquired dryly, imitating the arch of his brow as closely as she was able. something incorrigible and insensate inside her.
she had done wrong, somehow, pulsed the warning light within her mind. too late to remedy it now; she was at his mercy, but it was not his mercy the small raven sought. it was his respect.

It seems to make her more comfortable when he doesn’t move towards her like most do after first introductions. Kynareth’s knows the effect he has on others, especially flighty, frightened women. He knows better not to move a muscle if he wants to engage in an actual conversation with her. Or a conversation that she actually feels comfortable enough to engage in and not run away from like a spooked hare in the tall grass. 

All she answers back with is a yes and he momentarily furrows his brows. Yes. Yes to what? A home or pack land? Maybe both then. He settles on both. That’s good to know that there is a new pack settling somewhere in the teekons for his lot to terrorize when the time comes.

His face is quick to smooth out as he nods back to the blonde shewolf. Then she’s bravely asking him for his own name and he can’t help the smile that comes to his face. It’s not predatory, only amused and it contorts his face handsomely.

“Kynareth Deagon of the Abbey, Alpha of the Saints of the Dying Light.” He introduces his extravagant name, but he does so casually. “The pack that calls this place home.” He hints subtly that she’s too close for to his territory for his liking. His voice isn’t malicious, only smooth and suggestive, but not in any type of sexual manner. The type of suggestive that hints at his earlier words: you had to have passed through my territory in order to get here. You’re too close for my comfort. 

He continues still. “How did you get here Teya?” He asks in a way that seems almost innocent.

teya flicked an ear at his question. why, she had come — thinking back now, a flurry of blinks announcing her confusion, and then the death of that for awareness.
knowledge, wisdom, what have you — she'd pressed through a forest and ignored the markings, focused only on her journey through the unknown lands and the possibility of new things to be found in the waterways.
her small chin lifted. if he wanted to exact from her a pound of flesh, he would not find the young raven more than a mouthful.
coolwater eyes took on a cunning sheen; she remembered her endless dabbling through the snowy end of spring.
"you punish me now for it?" teya inquired, stilled save for the way her mouth curved despite the growing fear tangled inside her gut.

He watches her contemplate his words carefully. He’s not shy in what he suggests — the fact that she passed through his territory without a thought as to if she really should. Oh, she’s lucky Kynareth is easily swayed by those with beauty. 

Though, he finds her even more interesting as she tilts her pretty face up. Those bright eyes of hers becoming sly — mysterious almost and Kyn finds himself mirroring her look. One of unbridled interest making itself known on his handsome face. His brows are furrowed just a hair, but not in any type of ire or rage. Only a serious curiosity. 

You punish me now for it? The Grandmaster quirks as brow at her smile and his own appears on his maw. Oh, she wants to play with him? He loves games and to him, she’s initiating one type of game he can’t help but humor her with. He’s sure she’s wary or frightened of him though. He is a giant man, pelt scarred in some places, and hard muscle beneath. If he’s able to catch her, she’d be done for if he really wanted to bloody his teeth. For now, it’s not his need for bloodshed that shows through — it’s his curiosity in a beautiful woman that dares play him at his own game if only to get out unscathed. He can’t really be mad at her, he’d probably do the same. 

So he dares to move closer this time. There’s no maliciousness on his face, only curious eyes and his own sly smile. He moves casually, not too close, but probably too close for a scared woman’s comfort.

“Oh? Punishment?” He hums at her words. “Only if you want me to, darling.” It’s then that his tone takes up one of a more suggestive nature — a low purr in his voice. “Perhaps you’d allow me to escort you out after you’ve done whatever you wandered in here to do.” He even suggests almost politely. 

Damn, Kynareth’s a slave for a beautiful woman. She trespassed and now he’s considering allowing her to do whatever she wandered in here to do before escorting her out. He’s not soft, but he is easily swayed occasionally. He isn’t always a monster. Actually he’s only a monster when others force him to be, or if he’s feeling particularly rowdy that day.

teya had never been called darling before, and the word rattled through her slight figure as if she were reeds at the edge of a lake. this man was daunting in all ways, and yet he responded to her prod only with a good nature and the promise of something else hidden beneath the underside of his tongue.
"maybe i let you do more than this," came her dry retort; young but not so young that she could not see how he had softened, somewhat. "i come to fish," the little raven smiled, motioning toward the darkmurk. whatever sorts of creatures lurked there, she suspected it was more than fish. after all, this vibrant feral land had encapsulated itself into the figure of knyareth.
it would be a lie to say she was not interested; interested in how the mismatched creation of their different bodies might connect. she suspected he thought the same, or perhaps she assumed. she had trespassed and made of this an admission, and he had not seen fit to punish her with teeth.
"i catch but leave them," the violet offered, not needing to devour nor carry off anything she fished from the morass.
it was not hers to take, after all, but maybe at the end of this, kynareth might deliver something else she could bear back to brecheliant.

She takes a second to respond and Kyn is enraptured by her. Obviously paying attention when she speaks. He doesn’t just play the part of a charming, but intimidating alpha to get him some tail — he’s genuinely interested in what most have to say.

I may let you do more than this. She says then in that interesting accent of hers. Kynareth’s head tilts only slightly and his animalistic, male brain wonders what she means by that. He doesn’t jump to conclusions though, not yet. He loves the chase, but what he loves just is much is when he’s wanted back. So, he’d wait for a more obvious hint from the pretty lady before trying harder. 

As she’s mentioning fishing, it seems obvious now. He found her wandering around in the waters with her eyes trained downward. At this he hums in acknowledgment, showing her that he’s listening and perhaps even interested in fishing with her. 

I catch, but leave them. The Grandmaster chuckles lowly and shakes his head. “You may take some for the road when you leave. Only if you ask permission to come by next time.” He chastises humorously.

He doesn’t care if she comes by to fish again, but she encourages her to ask next time. He doesn’t like giving second warnings and he knows his other pack mates are not as swayed by beauty as he is. Especially his female counterparts — Nyra wouldn't hesitate to rip her up despite her swollen belly. Simmik would absolutely kill her because of their newly born and rapidly growing pups. Whrist likes to bite first and ask questions later. 

Now, he moves towards her casually. His muscles flexing beneath his thick, impressive coat. Tail curled neatly on his hips, it sways once or twice at the idea of fishing. Despite having a river running directly through the strath, he doesn’t do it much — only when he’s feeling lazy to be exact. He looks down into the water, intentionally brushing past her if she allows him. 

“Let’s fish then, sweetheart.” He says eagerly. “Perhaps I’m feeling hungry.” He purrs then, offering his eyes to her suggestively. Throwing a wink in her direction carelessly as he moves further away into the deeper water.

teya grinned. "next time?" did he want her back, then? the shy girl who had come to the teekon and found the court in a storm was gone now, no longer recognized by the raven. in her place had grown the heady scarlet flowers of demand and exploration, to conquer. she herself, unbent.
a polite nod then, to his generosity. despite their banter, the violet remained aware of her transgression against his packlands. and so she had leant into his company instead, and now shot him a lingering stare as his massive figure swept by her. kynareth held the scent of deep places, of the strath they had both journeyed through, of men, of women. of children.
ah, so he was a father then, teya suspected silently, more incredulous that this assumption did nothing to dampen her interest. a particular bleakness in this.
the abbeyman, glinting her way. he knew what she meant to offer, and teya watched him as the low throb of his voice sounded between them.
"you not leave here hungry."
flick of cardinal-grey ears, and then the woman was wading after him, hipdeep in the trailing kynareth had left. beneath her paws she felt the squelch of mud, but also the round head of a frog, which surged powerfully under her step and swam away. 
teya kept her attention trained to the morass but also to her companion, only some inches from her now.

Kynareth can’t help himself. When she grins at him and mentions a ‘next time’ he grins right back. “Perhaps.” Is all he hums back, his voice is deep but his tone is light as he says it.

He’s satisfied that she allows him the generous offer of taking some with her. He would have none of it if she refused. He would become one of those grandmas that stuff her grandchild’s hands with treats of all kinds and send them on their way. If the Grandmaster offers his services or generosity, he expects it to be taken. In this case it has, so he has no complaints as they wade through the water together.

Though when he’s purring out and brushing past her, he catches the look she offers and his own becomes just that much more curious. It seems his advances aren’t unwanted, for she remains close to him as the water deepens. Her voice sounds out and her words only solidify his decision to continue to try his luck at wooing her. Oh, he hopes he doesn’t leave hungry. 

His paws squish through the soft ground below and finally once he feels like he’s found a well enough spot he stills. Head heals high, but chin tilted down to watch and feel the water around him. Waiting for it to shift in the perfect way, his ears shift. Then as a fish moves past his paw, his massive head fearlessly disappears beneath the murky water. The flexing of his muscles and the light jerk of his body means lightest of struggles is at foot. 

Then, only a few seconds later he’s raising, a small five inch catfish clench d in between dangerous teeth. A smile on his maw shows how proud he is of his meager but fruitful catch as he turns to his new friend to regard her with a humorous wiggle of his brows. Moving to step out onto the bank he drops it, smacking his lips and tongue at the horrible taste of the water. 

“Fishing isn’t horribly troubling.” He hums conversationally. “But I’m not the best, as you can see.” He chuckles lowly. Nodding his head to his small catch. Then he smirks, titling his head. “Any tips, peaches? You may be able to teach an old dog new tricks.” It’s then that Donovan decides he’s found the perfect nickname for her. Peaches; for her beautifully colored fur.

they had an accord. teya watched with flicked ears as kynareth fed his massive form into the water and emerged with a fish that seemed smaller than it was within his jaws. on some plane the violet was impressed at his skill, how the largesse of his body did not fault him when it came to speed. but on more aspects than that, teya wondered how she might appear so delicate-boned in his grasp.
the coolwater eyes warmed teasingly; she cut backward against the black water, arcing in a gentle semi-circle as she moved into the core of the morass, where her feet no longer touched the slimy bed.
peaches. teya did not like the moniker, but she enjoyed the way the edges of it fell velvet against his tongue. it was not an epithet, only something cute. soft. glowing, where the newly made woman wanted to be angles and severity and demand.
"you touch," and she grinned, dipping her own head out of sight to chivvy a larger fish to the surface, a bony haunted thing with a string of burrlike teeth. gently, breath held in the way that she had been practicing, until she swung it up in a sudden gasp, muck clinging to her ash-sunned features.

The brindled brute smirks when he catches her pretty blue eyes when he’d caught the fish and drops it. Watches her even further as she moves out of the water slowly, murky liquid ripping around her softly. He asks her for tips and she only smirks back at him. He wonders why, but he doesn’t question it. Perhaps she’s simply enjoying his company and he won’t complain one bit. For he finds himself also enjoying her own company. 

You touch. Is all she gives him and for a second he’s confused. Touch? Touch what? The fish? His small man brain doesn’t quite get what she means by it but he doesn’t stress. Maybe she would elaborate. All he knows is that he’s definitely good at touching of a different kind; one that doesn’t involve catching fish. 

So when she whips her head from the water a few seconds later he’s clearly impressed by the fish she caught. His face shows it with raised brows and an open mouthed, wide, toothy smile. She preens at her catch too and he can’t help but feed into her confidence.

“Wow—.” He offers in excitement. His eyes relax some and take on a more sly nature. “Darling this touch you speak of seems to work. I’d say I’m skilled at it, but not of the fish catching kind.” He chuckles back shamelessly flirting with her. “Quite impressive, indeed.” He congratulates once more.

lol small man brain lol

could prob faaade this if he accepts >D

there it was: the invitation she had given, taken and granted form by kynareth's suggestion. she arched easily up onto the bank with him, and there she dropped her catch with a fling of neck, her nape exposed to his heavy jaws.
but teya was confident this strathman would not descend with teeth upon her. coolwater eyes glimmered with a darkening knowledge, and the raven swung mud from her plume into a clacking splat upon the ground. "i tired of fishing," she hummed in a growing simper, a grin that touched her eyes with intrigue.
"now you show," and here she slid forward to brush her hip against his foreleg, so that no more could they engage in wordplay around the matter.
teya did not care who saw them.

LMAO he does have smol man brain what can I say? ;> Also yeth fade. Did you want to fade to after they do the do and he escorts her out?

Kynareth doesn’t take his eyes off of her and he’s obviously quite interested. Judging by the promiscuous flicker in his golden eyes and the handsome smile that persists to stay on his lips, he’s very interested in her. This interest only becomes more obvious as she drops her fish, slings the mud from her gorgeous canary coat, and moves towards him. 

“Oh?” He purrs to her casually, almost teasingly.

His smile remains and his brows raise a fraction in interest. She’s tired of fishing it seems. So is he. It’s quickly becoming obvious that they’re both interested in something else. Something he’s been interested in since he laid eyes on her. He can’t help that’s she’s ungodly beautiful and accompanied by that accent of hers, the Grandmaster can’t help himself. 

So as she tells, not asks, him to show her a smooth chuckle escapes his maw. His eyes move along the line of her body as she slots herself against his own. 

“Oh, darling, I thought you’d never ask.” Ky breathes against the nape of her neck. 

A dark tongue laps at her ears and neck before he moves himself into position. Wasting no time in doing what they’ve both probably wanted from the beginning. 

Fade to black cause they do the do :>

yes absolutely

and teya, open-mouthed and glistening in his embrace, came alive like a smouldering ember it seemed a thousandfold.

***

when they had parted, teya shook herself deliciously and preened under the mingled scents now clinging to her coat. "you insist i take fish but," and here she rolled her slim shoulders, glinting coyly at kynareth as if her hunger for the moment had not been sated, "i take and give something better."
brecheliant beckoned, and she must return. the little raven swung her tail around well-loved hipbones and prepared to saunter at his side out of the strath, noting that when she returned again, she need only call for the tall warriorbuilt brute who had treated her so wholly against the black water of the morass.

Kynareth’s stunned by the beauty of the young woman he’d had in his grasp — still has in his grasp for a while longer. As they part he watches her with heavy eyes and a content, but sly smile on his lips. Despite what they did, she looks back to him coyly and he can’t help but chuckle at her words. 

He moves to walk beside her. “I couldn’t agree more, sweetheart.” He purrs, intentionally bumping against her. Unable to help himself as he noses against her jaw and ear a bit, the hint of teeth nipping at her scruff. 

Only a while later, they make it to the northern border of the Strath. He stops when he senses his scent on the borders fading. Slinking towards her with that handsome smile on his face he playfully nips at her neck and moves back with a wink.

“Come back anytime, peaches.” He hums with easy humor. “Tread carefully though.” He warns easily, no real heat in his tone.

<3 >D

as they moved, kynareth made no secret of his desire, and at the threshold to his home, he held her again in the clip of his jaws that might have frightened the raven had they not just provided her with a great deal of pleasure scant minutes before. she pulled at his ruff with her own teeth, nipped into the plush fur of his chest, licked the warbound hardness of his shoulder.
the girl did not promise to meet again, only smirked with tongue-wet lips into his face and then faded into the trees, carrying with her the scent of his saints and her own sin. if she returned, it would be for what kynareth had provided; something sharp-edged and satiating against the feminine softness of brecheliant and its intention toward sanctuary.