Silver Moraine [m] i'll cut the soft pockets, let bleed

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: references to sexual activity

@Raimo sorry for the slight delay!

zephyr wanders toward the coast in brief, indecisive bursts, occasionally turning back as if to flee his decision. he never makes it quite far enough to see or hear the coast, however. instead he finds himself caught up in the moraine, a familiar yet unfamiliar place to the wraith. he wanders it slowly without a single thought spared toward his current condition, or who it might draw to him. he has yet to connect the dots, though it won't be much longer before he does.

Try as he might to adapt to coastal living, Raimo struggles to find the same connection he once held to Moonglow. He decides on a whim to go for a run and see if anything worthwhile can be found away from the cliffs - which is why he finds himself out of breath as he crosses the moraine.

There wasn't much to see, here. The terrain was rugged and open, a composite of rock formations and an overwhelmingly blue sky. Raimo prowled along with a hunch to his shoulders, huffing mineral-rich breaths, glad to be away from the seaside and its smells.

Whether he saw the ambulatory shine of the stranger's silvery body or not, Raimo gave no indication. Not until a warm and inviting scent caught him by surprise, towards which he lifted his head for a once-over of the horizon.

predictably, zephyr isn't alone for very long. he spots the stranger in short order, seemingly before the dark wolf becomes aware of the wraith's presence. the abrupt lift of the man's head alerts him to their mutual awareness of one another, and zephyr finds himself inexplicably tense — yet equally drawn in by the prospect of another encounter like the one he'd had with wintersbane. he shivers slightly to remember their embrace, and alters his course to meet the midnight-furred stranger. he smells the sea on him as he nears, the tang of salt almost close enough to blood-scent to remind him of better times; of lovers he'd known more intimately than these unknown bedfellows of his. zephyr chuffs softly, tail swaying, and hesitates for several moments in his approach. the draw of heat-scent is still new to him, and he finds himself uncertain of how he'll be received by the stranger.

The living stone moves enough in his periphery to draw his attention, then the stranger chuffs, and Raimo's stand-still is at an end. He is no stranger to this dance; although his interests have always been in the physical rewards of the present rather than the potential fallout or consequences of his actions.

The spicy layering of the stranger's scent is more alluring than he expects. They are nothing like his previous conquests - the memory of Kukutux, of Jakoul, fill his mind briefly.

As Raimo draws nearer he investigates the mantle of scents that mark their body. Mountain pine; a boa of masculine musk; nothing familiar.

his own approach is met in kind, and while the wordless mutuality does little to soothe his wariness, something draws him forward further. something he can't quite place. he pays little attention to the feeling — as little as he pays to the growing tension in his own body as he draws ever closer. too close for comfort, now, but that doesn't stop him. nothing about his existence is comfortable as of late, particularly in the past few days. the molten heat in his veins controls him now, more than the ice at the center of his heart ever has — and while he doesn't understand how or why, the pull of instinct is strong enough that he knows what will soothe the fire at the core of him. he knows that this stranger can provide it.

in this moment, little else matters.

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Implications!

As bold as Raimo felt with Jakoul, he felt the stirrings of such forthright desire here and now. Where before his attention to the dark woman had been born of lust and pain in tandem, now he was eager for the distraction that this new body offered to him; he would seek out pleasure for himself first and deal with the stranger later should they protest.

The way they moved, the way they watched him, Raimo could only see consent in every inch of them. Would it feel like the tender moments with his love? Or more carnal - like the shadow?

The silver stranger was as different as they could be: not plush and pale like Kukutux who had denied him, not as effeminate or athletic as Jakoul with her lies and her betrayal. It would be purely physical, as these connections were meant to be.

☆ (MUSICAL INTERLUDE?!) ☆

He is tired but alive; revived in a sense, feeling the hum of every inch of skin, a suitable level of endorphins flooding his body.

Had he been too rough on the smaller wolf? Would they deny him now, just like the others? Raimo did not even know their name - but he did not mind that, too drunk on the shared intimacy, having been touch starved for so long.

sometime during their wordless coupling, it dawns on the wraith —

this is it. this is the scent that had drawn him in; the one that had set the mood for his first sexual encounter, the one that had caused the friction and clumsiness of his introduction to romance. and it's coming from him. the implications settle heavily over him as he parts from the dark stranger. zephyr hardly acknowledges his presence at first, suffocating under the weight of his thoughts. fatherhood — a curse, a burden he'd sworn he would never bear after his father wore it with so little grace. kavik had let the mantle fall from his shoulders, had let it crush his children and fragment their development. he'd left them stunted and splintered, and zephyr has always known that he could never truly be suited to such a role, lest he leave his own children with the same scars.

yet here he is, plunging into unfamiliar waters with no thought toward the consequences. he thinks of wintersbane, then, and shivers a little. surely the man had known. after all — who else could have left all those other wolves with heavy bellies? the thought leaves him feeling hollow.

finally, he looks to his companion. i have to admit, he starts, sounding more collected than he feels. i only realized i'm in heat about a minute ago. a slight pause, and he sucks in a breath, then continues with a hint of humor to his tone, so... how do you feel about children?

I have to admit, the stranger began, and Raimo found himself losing his many thoughts to their condition in the moment; he wonders where this will lead, instead.

I have to admit, you're quite the catch! He thinks they might say; or, —I've never had someone like you! Which would surely be a stroke to the ego after his repeated failings...

I only realized I'm in heat about a minute ago.

In that pause, Raimo felt everything in his mind come to a screeching halt. Whatever gears had been churning and imaginings he had been concocting for his own story, halted. He only watched their shining silver face; finding a note of humor as they drawled something about children.

It sort-of felt like he had shoved his head in to a pool of water and let the cold and the wet seep in through his ears. Slowly drowning himself in that soundlessness. Besides that, Raimo did not feel anything except the harshing of his buzz.

A few blinks later and that pantherine indifference settles across his features.

You might not be a parent, it is not a guarantee. He states this slowly, as if to convince himself of the fact. Given how laborious their coupling had been, Raimo would be shocked if the stranger's belly did not grow heavy in the coming months.

It had not been a part of the initial equation as he'd let his lust and his poor mental state win out over reason; but in any case: But... It is wrong to abandon one's responsibilities.

the stranger is distinctly not thrilled, and zephyr can't help but think this is only to be expected. nothing in his life seems to have a happy ending, and why should this be any different? at the very least, the ending statement is some small reassurance; he will not be alone in the ordeal, should it come to pass. it feels like a meager consolation prize. but he's made his own bed, and now it is time to lie in it. he clings to his typical mask of stoicism as he responds, suddenly eager to be done with the interaction. you're right, he starts ambiguously, continuing without clarifying. tell me your name, then, and where i can find you if — if i need to. a slight stumble over words, as he struggles to avoid the tidal wave of dread suddenly looming over him. it'd been easier when he'd been able to regard the situation with a bit of humor; easier to ignore what feels like impending doom.

mother! woman! his mind shrieks at him from some dark ugly corner, and he knows that soon the world around him will follow suit...

as if they don't already.

Tell me your name then, and where to find you if — if I need to.

Raimo. He only hesitated for half a beat of his pulse, but that was still something. It did not occur to Raimo that his new home might be unwelcoming to his dalliances, as he was not close to either of the women who ruled Sapphique; he did not care for them much and as a result, did not hold them in great esteem. Erzulie seemed the more manageable creature — if only because Raimo had spoken to her once or twice — but he did not know anyone among the coastal village well.

Regardless, that was where he would be.

I live on the coast, in a village called Sapphique. The wolves live upon a high cliff, It had a certain ring to it, a flow off the tongue, which Raimo enjoyed. He wasn't so invested in the place to hold much opinion over it at all beyond a storyteller's curiosity; though now that he had spoken the name of the place, he began to consider things differently there, too. His wandering would not have to cease, but his freedoms would be limited until he could know for sure if fatherhood was where his story led.

Even if he did not know this wolf nor hold warmth in his heart for the unknowable future they had possibly begun together, Raimo was not the kind to cut and run. He had pride in himself and the name that he carried — and that which his children would carry, he assumed — so he would be present for them, if they existed.

A thought came, then — What of you?

raimo. sapphique. he tucks the knowledge away, and briefly describes the location of duskfire glacier in return. he leaves it vague enough that any of the neighboring territories might be mistaken for the glacier, and he does not offer a name. the thought of raimo meeting wintersbane turns his stomach.

then he departs, eager to leave the encounter behind him for as long as he can.