Redtail Rise A living shrine just for you

The grotto behind her, the glacier rising like a giant bicuspid in the distance, Sanja followed the wind. She hadn't found any reason to stay anywhere for long and would pass through to the moraine, where hopefully a herd could be spotted.

She discovered along the way, a familiar scent (@Prophet); the memory of the rugged man's embrace lulled Sanja in to a more relaxed gait. There were other scents - stronger ones - which made her rethink her path.

A glance along the rise, searching for signs of life, or a path to safety if required; she saw enough to make her worry.

i'm around to spree if you would like <3

He was attending his duties, as any good man should.

But was he a good man? It was a question that loomed more these days than he cared to admit. A question amplified as he spotted a familiar figure skirting the rise.

Was this a challenge? Did she come for more?

Prophet had never fancied himself a gentleman or a romantic. She would not find a man ready to be a doting husband here. Not in him, at least. Not for her, most certainly. Yet they had not spoke the last time and he deemed they would not do so here either.

Instead, his position was strong as a declaration of his place here and he moved alongside her trail some distance away in the clearing.

Happy to!

There was a sense of being watched. Sanja moved tentatively forward with her ears pivoting, finding little in the way of clues. The birds had gone silent at some indefinite point during her transit of the area.

Then, seemingly summoned by her own mind, a figure. He moved alongside her path, parallel, and when Sanja caught sight of his prideful bearing she stopped.

There wasn't anything to bewitch him now. Nothing to gain by association for either of them. He was still impressive, but gone was the fire in her belly.

Her own posture dips lower. The end of her tail twitches with uncertainty.

<3

She dipped and he stilled.

Her scent on the breeze not what it had been but days before. His gut churned further, the ugly beast worming its way inside him.

He had chased a woman away from here once for being a bold beast. Why should he not do it again? Just because they had shared a moment? Such a silly thing. She had not been his one and only. He hoped dearly — for the sake of both of them — that the same could be said for her.

Yet now he curved his path and stalked towards her. Not aggressive, but certainly not a warm face in the cool taiga air.

He chose to approach. It would have been wise to give this place a wider berth or to flee now, she thinks, but holds out hope for something. What does she want of him? He is no-one. They know nothing of one-another except how well their bodies slot together.

Is that what he is after?

Is that why she hasn't run yet?

Sanja licks her lips and after a moment, reaches to carefully inspect his scents, his jawline, the layering of his furs; huffing a cursory note between her teeth.

Why.

It echoed in his head, it bounced off the walls.

And she dared to be here, at his home. Dared to touch along delicate places and inhaled the scents he carried. Did she smell the milk from babes already his? Did she smell the blood of successful hunts?

He snorted something deep and primal.

He dared, for not more than a second or two, to touch his nose to her crown if she did not flee. This was the only kindness he could afford.

No teeth - only the barest touch, fleeting.

She found enough upon him now to make it obvious why he lingered at this place; the milk scent that had been endearing was now a glaring oversight.

He had only wanted her to slake a thirst she'd brought upon him; now she was a desert, and he was the mirage of what she couldn't have.

The touch took all the time Sanja needed to make her mind up. She couldn't be where she was not wanted. It was not the first time.

Without a sound the woman withdraws from his touch, his scent, his presence. Bitterness would come after.

And like that, she saw it fit to depart.

It stung, why did it sting? Why did he find himself with a sudden well of emptiness to see her shadow depart?

This was not the first time he had felt it, though. The same sensation had come each time Marina departed. Once more when Avicus ever left his sight.

Now another woman would go and leave. Prophet would find himself with the mess of his own doing and pay the dull ache for it all over again.

Again, again, again...

Silent still he would trail behind her, seeing that she left properly and for good, if that was her true intent.

She could feel his eyes on her.

Her desire to turn and look was strong, but instead she lengthened her stride until her pulse was rapid.

South, in to the valley.