Blackfeather Woods the road ahead feels lonely

limiting to two, but open to anyone! would especially love a pack wolf if at all possible >:) brand new character that i'm eager to experiment with!

Shrouded in darkness, flame-scorched paws carry a ghostly figure into the unknown. Well-worn from travel, she was, and though her body begged for a moment's rest, she would not give in to the desire. A small bird's carcass, feathers ruffled and dusted with crimson, lays between a set of jaws. She doesn't stop to eat it, only slows her pace as molars crush bone and the bird disappears down her throat.
The ghosts of those that had been here before are all around her, their scents lingering in the air as thin lips part and a tongue flicks out between them. She can almost taste it, the strangers that wander these lands. They call to her. Beckon her with the secrets they may hold.
Oh, what wonders did Teekon have to offer? 

He wandered again on this day, leaving Zharille space to be alone with her brood. Some days he thought of himself as an intrusion, and kept his distance. 

Khaba was not a stranger to these woods. In fact, he enjoyed visiting here. It was a place of solace. Many responsibilities lay upon his shoulders at the lake. But, here he could be at peace; he could have some freedom.

At a slow, leisurely pace, he lumbered beneath the long branches. The shade was pleasant, as it kept the sun from burning against his murky fur. The air carried a light breeze, even, ruffling his fur. He reveled in it. At least... while he still could.

A low, guttural croon echoes from Zaahira's throat, drawn out and desolate. A quiet sound, perhaps not unlike a chuff or a bark. There is someone nearby, and she is well aware of it. 
Swiftly, she turns a corner, snaking beneath a pine in pursuit of the presence. A lumbering shadow is there to greet her, looming and pleasantly threatening. Eyes of fire scan the figure from a safe distance. She does not make herself known in full, only offering a flick of her tail half-visible from between shrubs. Should he approach, she would welcome it with wide-open eyes and parted lips. Eager. 

Someone is here. He is not alone.

Stopping, the beastly man jerks his head from side to side. 

Where are you... His sharp gaze inquires. But he does not speak these words. And when no one comes into view, he bellows, low—a command to reveal themselves.

They will come to him. Not the other way around.

Come forth, he calls, and Zaahira would oblige.
Tail raised in a slow, curious sway, she reveals herself, basking in the evening light. Foxy little head raises high, the fur of her neck parted and tipped with droplets of water from a recent dip in the nearby creek. She allowed herself to be exposed, to a degree. She was no threat to him.
As she gets closer, her head lowers, ears swiveling backward, though they did not pin. She would be cordial, but not submit. 
Who are you? Saucer-shaped eyes spoke for her. What brings you to me? 

The stranger nears. Low in approach, but not low enough.

Shifting his shoulders so he stands tall, the man cranes his neck, circling slow.

A whiff, each second. He gets better acquainted, finding himself intrigued by her sweet scent.

Perhaps he was pushing it—but even so, he gives a semi gentle nudge toward her shoulder. There is no intention other than simply to guage her reaction by his display. 

This is his way. The dominant. The authority. The alpha. 

And all will see him as such.

The first thing Zaahira notices as he draws near is that he smells strongly of others. They are all over him. 
Bunching up her shoulders, her eyes squint as she returns his touch with a nudge to the corner of his mouth. Cold nose meets tightened lips, tongue darting from her own in an ambiguous display of emotion, a small taste of where he has been up until now. To her, it confirms he does not live here alone. Perhaps he is even of high rank where he comes from. That is enough to earn her respect, and so she entertains his request. She knows better than to cause unrest. 
Dropping into a bow, she then moves onto her back, pressing herself into the undergrowth with two dainty forepaws tucked close to her chest. An invitation to explore whatever parts of her he may desire. Her gaze is unmoving despite her graciously submissive gesture, brazen and mystified by this stranger. 
He was in control. He should consider himself grateful that she would allow it. 

She gave in, lowering herself further until she was upon her back. 

He wasted no time to indulge in her offering, looming close overhead. His nose explored, tongue occasionally tasting the fur of her belly, and the dirt of her paws. 

A traveler, but a lone one. Different from him in some ways.

Once he had taken nearly every part of her, he sunk to the ground beside her, swinging a leg across her. It was his want to rest, but he didn't want her taking advantage of the moment to leave him. She would stay, and it was not a request. He made this quite clear. For if she tried to pull away, he would pull her close with a low growl.

Is it company you desire?
The gesture caught Zaahira off guard, but she didn't struggle against it, the initial rigidity falling to relaxation once she became more comfortable with the contact and the press of his foreleg against her chest. She falls over to her side after a few beats of silence, back pressed against his stomach. She herself was rather unremarkable in size, and even just as she looked at his paw, giant and menacing and nearly the size of her head, the realization of his prowess hit her. 
She made a mental note to stay on his good side. She did not want to know what it felt like to have that paw pressed against her windpipe.
Zaahira's head turns, shifting slightly to where she could rest her chin on the ground comfortably. Up close, even in the dim haze of sundown, she could make out the intricacies of his features. Stress wrinkles, pepperings of gray across his chin that likely came with age. Small scars, possibly from hunts or past skirmishes, some more fresh than others. He tells wordless stories, and she took great care in reading them. 
Zaahira, she chuffs out amidst the quiet. Broken and hoarse, foreign was her own name as it slid off her tongue. you? 

She did not pull away, but leaned in close with comfort. 

Khaba was able to relax, thus finding satisfaction in these moments.

But when he heard the sound of a voice, he tensed slightly. It had recently since been against his nature to speak, as there was always silence between him and those of the lake. 

Zaahira. A name.

Khaba. He returned, rather hesitantly so.

can i just say this ended up being so f'in cute :') i'm loving this

 

Just as she had indulged him, he had returned the favor. His title. Khaba. A strong name for a strong man.
Kh-aahhh-baaahh, it came out as more of a whisper, mouthing the sounds with exaggerated movements of her lips. Her tongue moved unnaturally when she spoke, which she did not like, though she wanted to honor his grace. So powerful, yet so gentle towards her; and what better way to thank him than to repeat his title back to him? Louder, yet smoother, she says it again. Khaba. A word of praise, a friendly gesture. 
Speech seemed foreign to him, too, with a noticeable tightness to his muscles when he made the attempt, so she did not press him for anything more. Instead, the corners of her mouth turn upward into a lazy smile. Her tail moves in a quiet, content thump. Perhaps Khaba could be a friend. 

Slow, she tested his name. And soon it came in full. She knew his name. Now she would know his place.

Home.

A chuff, and he began to move, lifting himself until she was alone on the earth's floor.

Then a snort came, his muzzle focused in the direction of the lake. Home. He speaks, knowing she would understand, even despite how much he loathed it.

He did not proceed onward, veering an expectant gaze towards her. She would follow him home, or she would not. But either which she chose, he would accept only one answer.

An invitation. Whether he truly wanted her to follow or not, she would do so anyway. 
With a little tilt of her head, Zaahira lets out a chuff as she rises up to her elbows and then her feet. An opportunity like this so soon upon her arrival to Teekon was not to be wasted. 
She pads up beside him, brushing against his flank with a bony little shoulder, waiting for his direction with a hooded, softened gaze. She would not overstep, though an itch of curiosity was beginning to burn and beg to be soothed. 
What waited for her beyond these woods? What did Khaba have to offer? 

fading here! :3 will have a follow up thread soon.

He was not disappointed. 

Zaahira moved to join alongside him, pressing against his flank briefly. 

He wouldn't make them wait here. He could not remain from the lake for much longer.

Chuffing faintly, Khaba took lead, trailing the path that would return them to the lake. 

To home.