Well, it was official. He was very notably on the shit list for all of the higher ranked members of the pack. Things had not been going well for the last year, though they had never been even "good" to begin with. Rather than continue to linger on the fringes of the pack, skirting patrols and avoiding the attention of his packmates, the onyx slave slipped away. It had been many years since he'd last needed to make use of his skills as a spy, a traitorous wretch who could evade the best guards in Nippon. However, he was going to have to shake the rust off as he went. As a patrol moved out of sight, the waif slunk through the lengthening shadows of twilight- the distorted forms of boulders and crags extending beyond the borders of the Armada. His companion kept an eye out, the primate was able to roam more freely than his master, ironically. There was a stream that ran through the fringes of the redwood forest, glacial runoff headed for the coast. Though it cut like a blade into the pads of his paws and the skin of his ankles, the wraith crept through the thin rivulet of frigid water. Deeper and deeper into the forest, until he had to abandon its course to continue into the dark embrace of the trees. He was hunting for the man who had come to beg his freedom. It baffled him that anyone would put their lives at risk for him, all for some frivolous and doomed flirtations.   By the time the sun had sunk below the horizon, the chill in the air was unbearable. He adjusted the sheath of his blade against his skin, the cold metal still tangible through the soft leather. Maybe he would just run away. Never go back there. He'd run from worse regimes, fled entire nations just to try and escape the endless cycle of indentured service. It nagged at the back of his mind. It had been years that he'd languished in the meek role of a slave for the Armada, and not once had he considered escape. Until now. Was Mojito so important? Leaning his meagre weight against the cool, rough bark of a towering redwood, he heaved a few quiet breaths through his dark nostrils. Traces of the pale man's scent lingered all around, but they were old already. He'd likely moved on again, perhaps abandoning the whole endeavour. An aging whore was hardly a prize worth challenging the Warlord for twice, after all. ""

This was almost certainly a bad idea, he'd laid low for a few days, as much to give his torn face time to start healing as to avoid drawing the further ire of whatever forces in the Armada that were now aligned against him. But he owed Nao an explanation of what had happened at least, and to discuss, what if anything they could do and he didn't want to leave it too long, the thing was he was done feeling like anyone had the right to treat him the way he'd largely been treated in his life and considering Azure's ego trip it left him with more motivation than ever to get the speckled man out, he wouldn't admit it but it but spite had been added to the whole equation now. The problem wasn't he wasn't sure how to get the man's attention, for obvious reasons he wasn't keen to call for him, he didn't want to give Azure further reasons to pick fights and he was keenly aware of the danger he may have put the man in simply by mentioning him before their scuffle. He skirted wide around the pack lands, daring to only get closer once the forest thickened and the scent markers ended, he began to meander slightly, though he kept alert, he was pushing his luck already being this close to pack lands and wasn't eager to be surprised, but he needed to give himself time to figure out how he was going to even let Nao know he was looking to see him... Hoa might have been an option once upon a time but Mojito doubted very much that Azure wouldn't recognize the sheep that had tried to ram him. So what were his options here? But as luck would actually have it, he wouldn't need to try and contact Nao, a familiar scent, fresh and closer than the borders of Armada would extend. Despite himself he felt his chest flutter, was that... Hope? Well he was short on that as of late so he was gonna ride that for a bit, his pace picking up and he oriented himself towards the familiar scent. ”Satoru...” It was practically a whisper, the man's name falling from his lips before he could even think it when his gaze finally landed on him. His chest tightened, he ran his gaze over the man, not the hungry gaze of lust but the worried look of care, he was looking for any sign that Azure had taken his frustrations out on the man, any sign that Mojito had hurt him. ”Speech”  ’Thought’

From somewhere over his shoulder, a breathy whisper from a distinctly masculine tone. His name, uttered like a prayer. He'd heard his name spoken this way before, but he'd never cared to hear it. Tonight? Tonight he craved that sound. He turned slowly, sea foam gaze cast over his shoulder and landing on the moonlit facade of the pallid wolfdog. A soft, rueful smile. "Mojito," he murmured, tension bleeding from his lithe form with each twitch of his muscles that brought him closer to the man. "you fought for me." the words tumbled free carelessly, the reality of their situation still new and exciting. Another cautious step closer, and the macaque took to the canopy to keep an eye out for pursuers. Then another step, and he could smell the taint of blood on Mojito's skin. All this mess, and for who? For a beaten and broken whore. ".. Why?" the wraith asked, sloughing his weapon with a casual roll of his shoulders. It struck the ground with a muffled clank that hardly disturbed even the birds above them. They were almost nose to nose, closer than either man had been to one another in.. months. Perhaps even years. Trapped by his servitude, and Mojito free to roam as he pleased in the wide world, how long had it been since they'd stumbled upon one another? That strange carnival, perhaps. To smell the fresh stink of sweat and blood on the demure male, and see the way the moonlight filtered through the canopy to dapple his alabaster fur.. it was surreal. He'd been so good in the past, stifled his urges and instincts to allow Mojito to make the first move each time they met. Tonight he couldn't help himself. A half step forward to push their bodies together, nose to nose and then cheek to cheek. Nao drank in the sensation of the man's fur mingling with his own, the shallow breaths that brushed against the nape of his neck... when would he get to be this close to Mojito again? Inky foreleg lifted from the cool ground, oh so achingly slow, and slender digits curled forth in search of another point of contact. He wanted- he craved touch. Physicality. He found the warmth of Mojito's own foreleg, and wrapped his wrist around it, pulling himself as close as he could. Desperation bleeding through as he whined softly. It had been so very long since anyone had touched him.. ""

Something about the way the man's eyes landed on him made Mojito shiver, not from cold or fear but something he hadn't felt in a long time. Excitement? Something more primal? He honestly wasn't sure he wanted to dig too deep into it right this moment. The speckled man moved towards him, commenting on the fight that had occurred, a flash of red hot anger going through him but he pushed it down. Not right now. He'd trust in whatever it was Asla wanted to do, for now he just wanted to make sure Nao was okay! ”Of course.” He breathed, he hadn't really intended for it to be a fight, he'd been prepared sure but he'd been willing to do things harder than just get into a fight for the man, it felt obvious to him. He frowned when the why was asked, trying to find the words to explain that he didn't know 100% if he had a reason, wasn't sure if he did that it wouldn't be selfish. The clank of the weapon sliding off the man jolted him back to the present and words tumbled from him before he had a real chance to process them, but they were true, at least in his mind. ”Because you deserve better.” Mojito was so keenly aware of how close they were, how easy it'd be to just reach out and- He had no more time to think about it, the speckled man was pushing himself into Mojito, first a moment of shocked rigidity, and then... Mojito practically melted, it was easy enough to lose himself in the other man's scent, to drink it all in and feel his body almost float away. He'd often wondered what it would be like to really and truly embrace the other man, had tried to recall the scent he carried with him but nothing could have prepared him for now. A foreleg was fished out from under him and Mojito simply let himself be moved, but he was engaged in the moment, he stepped into the man, letting himself be wrapped up by him. He'd always been a bit bigger than Asla, just enough that if he wanted he could wrap himself around her and hold her tight, but here and now he was the one who was small enough for that, and gods above did he want it. It was silly really, but somehow just being held, being pulled in by the other man made him feel... Safe? Close to the Armada lands that was a ridiculous notion but it was true. A soft whine pulled from Nao and Mojito tipped his head back, extending his muzzle to gently brush at the other man's jaw. ”Tell me what you want.” His voice was a whisper only loud enough for the other man to hear. He wanted to fill whatever longing he could feel in the other man's posture, in his voice. In that moment Mojito knew he would be happy simply to hold him if that's what he wanted, to simply talk to him, to share even a moment with the man if that was what was needed, even if the part of him that had been pushed down since that night with Asla, the night of his daughter's conception was finally being allowed to rear it's head... Desire. ”Speech”  ’Thought’

There wasn't an ounce of resistance to be felt. Mojito was there, pliable under his touch. Shifting and moving with each tender gesture, sighing into his fur with the softest breaths. The world had long since fallen away, and in this moment it was only the two of them. Nao let out a long breath he didn't know he'd been holding, letting the air tousle the silken threads of fur along Mojito's neck. He'd never admit the lonely moments that he spent in captivity, quietly pining for a moment like this. Wondering after the sensation of Mojito's flesh beneath his calloused digits or the imperceptible tremble of his muscles beneath that pallid pelt. It had seemed so unattainable, so painfully distant. Why utter the thoughts aloud? From each point where their bodies touched, he could feel their pulses racing in tandem. Was it a trick of the mind? Did Mojito feel it too? So far he hadn't been stopped, the other man hadn't pulled away. Dark lips peeled back from glistening fangs, which found delicate purchase upon the cool flesh of Mojito's neck. The ghost of a bite, skin unbroken and jaws parted carefully. It was too much to bear, the urge to taste every inch of skin and commit the man to memory with teeth and tongue. Pulled slowly from his tender, selfish ministrations, he could hear the wolfdog's voice. Breathy and wanton and everything that Nao could ever have hoped; an angelic choir in the cool air of the forest. A shiver rolled down his spine at the words, he couldn't help it. Nor could he help the low growl that bubbled up in his chest, and the way he wanted to lay claim to him. Finally. After so long. But no. This was not the time, not the place. Snout pulling back from where it had been working a trail of tiny bites and kisses along his throat, the wraith drew in a shaky breath. "You." he uttered hoarsely, pressing somehow closer. Chest to chest, neck against neck. He tightened his grip around Mojito's foreleg, just so. "I want you, Mojito." there was more force behind it this time, he tipped his head up and to the side, catching those pale blue eyes and holding fast as each syllable dripped from his tongue. Oh so quiet, not daring to raise his voice beyond a whisper lest the veil be lifted and the moment come crashing down around them. "Slowly, so that I may never forget what you look like in this moonlight." there was a hint of a smile on those dark features now, so subtle that it could just as easily have been a trick of the light. Without a trace of hesitation, he backed the other man towards the beds of pine needles that littered the space beneath the titanic boughs. Soft, without the incessant rustling of old leaf litter. He would be able to hear those breathy whines perfectly. Settled down alongside the alabaster male, he leaned forth to share a tender kiss. He'd make the most of every second, even if it killed him. --fade-- ""

Mojito was largely inexperienced, of this he was painfully aware. His attraction to males was not new to him, he'd always known in some ways but he'd never acted on it, not before Satoru. And even now this was the first time he'd really let himself admit to what had been bubbling up in him for some time. Satoru's touch was like a fire in his nervous system, his breath heavy and forceful as a string of kisses and nips trailing down his neck, holding himself back from simply bowling the bigger man over. But it seemed his simple question had sparked something and when he heard Nao's answer it felt like that simple word raced through his veins. You. It was so simple, such an easy answer but it was one he wasn't used to hearing and it set his whole soul aflame. His gaze lifting to meet Satoru's gaze, and for a moment everything else fell away, the pain in his muzzle fading and all the internal hurt he'd been harbouring for years seemed to quiet. ”You have me.” He said just as softly just moments before Satoru moved, Mojito putty under his touch. He looked up at the other man and he smiled unbidden, he was truly gorgeous and Mojito felt his heart swell with something he'd not felt in a long time. He leaned eagerly into the kiss, never once taking his eyes off the other man as they pulled their faces away for a moment, he followed Satoru's ever movement with a holy reverence, not wanting to miss anything. -fade- The moon's light was starting to fade, the rim of sunlight visible on the horizon but Mojito didn't care, he allowed himself to believe for a moment, for just one blissful moment that this was all there was in the world. That he and Satoru had found someplace away from anyone who would hurt them, but it rang hollow even in the gentle glow of their night together, there were others he cared about too much to ever be able to truly imagine never seeing again. Satoru included. He was curled against Satoru's underside, more than happy to remain in the other man's grip. He tipped his head back, and gently nosed at the underside of Satoru's muzzle, playful little licks. ”Satoru.” He whispered, not wishing to wake the man if he was asleep but feeling compelled to say the man's name once more. ”Speech”  ’Thought’