The Sunspire [m] carved teeth
Swiftcurrent Creek
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All Welcome 

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: backdated to june 26, receptive

cloud singer had not been a warrior at all. he and muskrat had met one another when his healing teachers asked for passage through the swamp panther lands.

scarcely grown, muskrat had just received her scar for battle exploits. cloud singer had been much the same, shy, almost exactly her age. where the swamp panther boys were boisterous and wrestled often to show their strength, cloud singer was devoted to his study of plants, of blossoms, bark, flowers. muskrat found herself with him often as the little group of plant-seekers traversed the nearby hills.

it was in that radiant forest they had loved one another for the first time. cloud singer told her that he would be a powerful healer one day, for healers were of no people and all. then, he laughed, he could stay in her village always, and be honored to do so. muskrat spoke of the war walk and how she would protect their home and children. such bliss in those times, pleasure, warmth. the discussions of a united future.

until gorseberry had told muskrat she would be leaving with six kills. of course she had fought! denied, refused! on the second night, the young warrior talked frog-voice into carrying her message to the lover who waited in the forest. a plan was made and she waited for the right time to evade six kills and his warriors.

hunting had brought muskrat down, pain kept her mired, and as the story of she and cloud singer replayed yet again, muskrat sent a defiant cry spiraling into the sky just now breaking with dawnlight.
Swiftcurrent Creek
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¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Akavir wasn’t in the habit of forcing himself where he wasn’t wanted—at least, he liked to think he wasn’t. Perhaps, in life, he hadn’t been assertive enough when the moment had truly called for it—was that why, instead of embracing honesty and possible push back, he had instead swallowed his feelings for others, and opted an easier route.

Those feelings had been better guided, though—unlike the storm that brewed in his chest. His presence had been unwanted and now it was unwarranted. So why was he disgruntled? A cry echoed down the mountain—and he was not far from its owner, though certainly far enough that a stray rock would not be punted down upon his head this time.

Enough that the idle scent on the breeze was less tempting.

But not far enough that he still did not worry—and if Viinturuth was here, as had been spoken—why did the fiery swamp panther elicit such cries?

He paused—he wavered. He desisted his trajectory of tracking goat, a useless way to pretend he was busy, and tilted his muzzle up, calling for his brother—answering the call of the banshee as morning only now crept along the mountain crevices.
Swiftcurrent Creek
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:o

akavir's call stilled muskrat, and she glanced back along her own sharp shoulder in incredulity. he had not left after all, he had remained. lurking. now he called for his brother, somewhere below the perch of her feet.

muskrat paced. her body cried for the virility of those creek men; her mind was dismayed. annoyed. half-amused, when only a handful of days ago another shadow wolf had come to seek her in this stone camp.

she pulled to her mind the tone of akavir's voice the last time they had spoken. how he had followed her here despite that. was he so interested in seeding her that he had forgotten?

her flesh ached. muskrat's muzzle curled and she turned to contemplate a higher path.
Swiftcurrent Creek
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No answer.

His features turned grim. It wasn't like his brother--but perhaps he was... busy... at the moment.

The idea aroused something akin to jealousy in the swarthy man--something he disliked greatly when it came to his littermate.

Viinturuth's time for fatherhood should have come. Akavir could play the role of doting uncle. And he could do so well.

And did the eyes of other women not haunt him? Silvertongue? Eset?

But why, now, even with her scent from him, was it Muskrat and her fiestiness that flooded his mind?

To envision dark pups, suckling against, softened in motherhood and yet wildly fierce as a warrior still?

Could either be tamed to one another?

A chuff escaped him. The silence stretched--and then the only drawn conclusion of such... his brother was otherwise occupied with the flame and he shook his head--idle steps taken once more to continue to trail after the goat that had likely now long gone from his reach.
Swiftcurrent Creek
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a stone came clacking down the mountain, hard enough to hurt should it strike the night man. she had aimed its trajectory away from him this time, the sound of it message enough.

he is not here, she chose to sing back. both brothers go home.

indignant; as if one should keep her here for the other. perhaps titillating in another time, she scalded herself with thoughts of denying akavir. of punishing him for his tone and then for following her here the first time.

she had not taken a higher path. her ears waited to listen.
Swiftcurrent Creek
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She sung to him--yet where the fuck was Viinturuth?

He scowled in the direction if the call--eyes sharp, trying to seek out the flame-scorched hue of her pelt along the dull grey of the mountains.

Nothing.

Yet another rock--tumbling down, and stirring him to shift further along a ledge, his eyes emblazened now as he looked upward.

Throw one more fucking rock at me, little panther, and I swear, he hollered up through gritted teeth--claws clenching the earth as he searched for her above.
Swiftcurrent Creek
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why both warriors so far from creek?

a deliberate cascade of sand and pebbles followed as muskrat giddily charged to her paws, emboldened by the passion in his shout.

this when i would make raid on camp.

her voice was a challenge, humming in the hot air, and one she gave because muskrat did not believe he would be able to reach the beyond the necklace of stone to her precipice, or into the thin air and the snow which fell even further.
Swiftcurrent Creek
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[Image: 81A5YFWW1hL._AC_UF1000,1000_QL80_.jpg]
Well—she didn’t throw another rock.

But dirt and pebbles rained down on him, and with grim features, the man hoisted himself up—his trajectory fast, his mood incensed. Muskrat was unlike anyone he had met—every step taken was a mistake, he could feel it. But the draw of her was what called him—the challenge of her gaze.

“Didn’t work well for you last time, did it,” he crooned out, his tone still echoing—and yet closer.

Closer he moved.

He dared believe he finally caught glimpse of her flame-lit eyes.
Swiftcurrent Creek
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like fireflies they blinked out in the night as she turned her face from his large shadow pouring over the edge of the mountain.

not work because you there.

and now he was here, the creek unguarded. a fool's move for a man who had proclaimed to leave her behind. muskrat enjoyed her hold over him, but now she struck for that higher path.

she promised no reward and perhaps even the glut of her teeth instead. he would work either way, the glint of her eyes snapping in the dark as she rushed up the stone toward the cold atmosphere at the sunspire's summit.