Show me how you care, Lea had been trying to figure out basically what was up, and now she was more or less lost. The yearling had departed from her own family not long ago, left only to follow her heart and try to make sense of a world without her family. She sighed, a sweet soft noise that carried on the air. She was so unbelievably confused but at least the place she had somehow managed to make it to wasn't horrid. In all reality, it was quite beautiful, rolling hills, coated with lush green grass. The smell made her want to lie down and roll in the grass, and while there wasn't much stopping her she was still just a tad wary. She settled back on her haunches, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. Instead of stressing she wanted to just enjoy her travels, but it was hard! She was a social being and she was just so alone all the time! It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the quiet, she really did, but she just wanted to be near others. To enjoy it with them. The woman leaned back and closed her eyes, trying to enjoy the sun rays warming her pelt. The sun reflected off of her, leaving her radiating the color gold and making her seem so warm. "Talk" Tell me how you loved before.

Redrum moved like a shadow cast over the grassy expanse, his muscles twitching faintly with each step, betraying his usual restlessness. His golden eyes swept across the landscape, scanning the greenery for any danger, though it brought him little peace. Beauty was not his concern; he hunted the scent of something familiar, something... grounding. Prey. A predator to hunt down and slaughter.

His ears twitched as he caught the faint sound of a sigh—a soft, melodic sound carried on the breeze. His movements stilled, and his body crouched low, coiling like a snake ready to strike. Curiosity, more than anything, drove him forward. The Valley was filled with rolling hills and rocky outcrops, this was no different.

When he traversed the next hill, his gaze fell upon a figure sitting amidst the green—a she-wolf around the same age as he, with a radiant golden light touching her brown coat. She sat with her eyes closed, bathed in warmth. Was she a lizard? Was she sleeping? Dreaming? In the sun? Redrum halted, his ears flattening briefly as he debated whether to approach or retreat. But she did earn a tilt of his skull, brows furrowing as he contemplated such serenity.

She seemed so content at that moment. He found himself pacing in a semi-circle, his body language tense as he weighed his options.
Finally, he let out a low chuff, a noise that broke the stillness. He lingered a distance away, his head low but his eyes locked on her, studying every nuance of her reaction. His voice, halting and rough, followed shortly after.

“Hello. Day-dreamer.” His words hung awkwardly, carried more by curiosity than concern, though his golden eyes betrayed an intensity he couldn’t quite suppress.

"Murder"

Show me how you care, Leora's eyes opened slowly as a voice drove her from her thoughts, a kind smile settling on her lips as her eyes found the particularly pretty man standing before her. His coat shone beautifully in the sun, while others may have thought the red was a warning that spoke of danger, she thought it fit his form. She found her voice slowly as she let her eyes come to connect with his, "Hello, pretty boy." he gave her a nickname so it was only right. Although hers wasn't very creative no. She lifted an eyebrow at him as she slowly stood up. "What brings you here today? My name is Leora, but you can call me Lea... Or day-dreamer, I don't mind either" She offered with a gentle smile, tilting her head as she looked at him. She settled back onto her haunches, curiosity in her eyes as she looked him over. His form screamed of power, but she did not find it threatening. "Talk" Tell me how you loved before.

Redrum's ears twitched at her words, his gaze narrowing briefly at the nickname she had chosen for him—pretty boy. Pretty? It wasn’t a name he’d ever heard or worn before. It didn’t suit him, so he found himself bristling and settling all at once at this strangely warm girl. “Pretty? Flowers are—pretty, Day-dreamer. Redrum is—not a flower, therefore—not pretty.” She should know this, right? His golden eyes flicked over her as she stood, her smile gentle but disarming in a way that made him falter, muscles twitching under his fiery coat. She looked like she was still dreaming. Perhaps she needed to wake up?

He shifted his weight, claws flexing slightly into the earth, his restless body unable to mask his unease, though his head tilted at her as she introduced herself. Leora. Lea. It wasn’t unpleasant. Not unpleasant at all. But that smile was too kind. Much too kind.

“Lea…” he murmured, testing the name on his tongue like it might taste different than it sounded. His speech stuttered as he added, “Redrum… wanders. Hunts. Fights.” That was a simple way to put it, that's for sure.

He paused, his gaze dragging over her form again, this time more deliberate, more searching. “What—about Day-dreamer? What brought Lea—here?” His words were awkward, halting as usual, and his brow furrowed as if unsure whether he meant it as a question or a rebuttal.

Finally, he stepped closer. Just enough to bring her into sharper focus, his movements careful, predatory, but not overtly threatening. Still though, his body twitched, jaw tensing and relaxing as he studied her expression.

"Murder"

Show me how you care, Leora found herself giggling at his response, not because of the stutter in his words but because of the logic he used. He looked up at him from underneath her eyelashes, a mischievous smile settling on her lips. "You can be pretty in a way that is different from a flower, you can be pretty like the ocean, with its violent crashing of waves. Always bringing danger, but if you sit on the beach, and you look out from where you are? It's quite pretty. Besides the red you wear, it's pretty." She paused for a moment, looking at him with a mischievous gleam in her eye, "Just like you." She didn't mind if she pushed it. She thought it was rather cute how he denied it. She watched as he shifted his weight, and as he flexed his body before speaking her name. She offers a nod in response, kind and gentle. And then he continues, and she tilts her head. "Redrum? Is that your name?" She pauses, returning to the taste of names. To her, it was like fine wine. She looks over his form as he does hers, ignoring the way her face warms at the intrusion. She had an idea that he did not quite know that it could be that. "I'm resting, enjoying the beauty of life, taking a break from fighting, hunting, wandering. Curious about what is going on in these lands. Even more curious about its inhabitants." She says voice calm, she answered his inquiry whether it was supposed to be one or not. As he moved closer she watched him, not out of fear but curiosity. She tilted her head before awkwardly pointing to the spot next to her, there was no need for him to hover. Unless that's what he wanted, she won't stop him then. "You can sit by me pretty boy, if you'd like that is. I'm not afraid." she said as she lifted a brow at him, she didn't mind others in close proximity either. Personal space had never been something she had a big boundary on, but she tried her best not to intrude on others. "Talk" Tell me how you loved before.

Redrum's long ears flicked at the sound of her giggle, the easy lightness of it catching him off guard. His gaze narrowed as she spoke, her words rolling over him—soft but persistent. Sort of like trudging over a hill in the rain. He didn’t miss the glint of mischief in her eyes, nor the deliberate impishness behind her description of him. "Pretty like—the ocean?" he echoed lowly, as if the comparison was a riddle she’d delivered to him. His brow furrowed deeper when she dared to call him pretty again, the word settling awkwardly in his mind like a thorn he didn’t know how to remove. He’d never been called much of anything positive, let alone pretty. And here she was, telling him he was akin to waves from afar, dangerous yet somehow pretty so long as you weren’t swept up within them.

“Danger… is not—pretty,” he muttered, his golden eyes flicking to the side as though the ground might offer some clarification. What was with her? Her compliment about his red fur made him shift uncomfortably, unsettled really. Red meant danger. It meant blood. It meant death. “The red is—blood, Lea. It stains. Not—beautiful.” Yet even as he said it, the denial in his voice wavered. Maybe she knew something he did not know. Maybe she was crazy.
When she asked about his name, Redrum hesitated, claws flexing briefly into the earth again. The talons drawing long trenches into the dirt. "Yes. Redrum is Redrum," He left it at that, not elaborating further, though his jaw clenched repeatedly, a sign he was fighting off the clacking of teeth he’d usually experience.

Her calm response to his question—or what passed for one—made his ears twitch and swivel towards her again. Resting, enjoying life, curiosity… these things sounded foreign to him, like luxuries he’d never been afforded. Her ease with the words confused him, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. He tilted his head, mirroring her previous gesture unconsciously, the intensity in his gaze softening into something closer to intrigue. "Day-dreamer…" he murmured, his tone steady and low. “Leora is… strange. Still—dreaming?” Yeah, that would explain it.

As she gestured to the spot beside her, his movements stilled entirely. Pretty boy, she’d called him again, and her lack of fear—her utter ease—only added to the tension that snaked into his chest. Her words invited him closer, somehow daring him at the same time. He lowered his skull again, slightly, studying her for any crack in her confidence, any sign that she wasn’t as steady as she seemed. As true. He peered up at her for many moments, the flicking of his tail behind his hocks lending him a feline’s characteristic for the time being.

Finally, he moved, a cautious step forward. “Not afraid…” he repeated, his voice carrying a note of skepticism. His golden eyes lingered on her, tension rippling through his muscles, under his vermillion coat. Slowly, he lowered himself into the space she had indicated, his posture rigid despite the proximity. “Redrum doesn’t—sit with strangers.” he said awkwardly, though he had, indeed, done just that. His claws flexed idly against the ground as he watched her, his sideways gaze wary yet curious. “But Lea—is not a stranger anymore, yes?” he added after a moment, the faintest hint of something like amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Murder"

Show me how you care, She listened as he echoed her, a soft mhm coming from her maw. She looked at him with a soft smile. She found herself enjoying this banter, even if it was more just her calling him pretty. His presence was enjoyable, but alas Lea was a people person. Most people's presence she enjoyed. As he mentioned that danger was not pretty she furrowed her brows, "Danger can be beautiful, danger can be alluring." she rebutted, her voice was still light though playful. And then he was shifting again, grumbling about how red was not beautiful. "I disagree, red is much more than the color of blood. But even if blood was the only red thing around, it's the essence of life is it not? Life can be beautiful, no? You are covered in red when you are born and when you die. Yes, blood also means carnage, but sometimes carnage can be beautiful too." She offered with a shrug, either way, he wasn't going to change her opinion. She thought he was pretty and he would just have to deal with it. She nodded as he said his name again, she would remember that yes. His name rolled off her tongue in a way she enjoyed, she had also noticed the other meaning of his name. But in all reality, it just did not make her shudder, there was no unease that came with it. Danger was not something that bothered Lea, even on the rare occasion it scared her. At the end of the day, she could not be bothered to dislike others because of their alignments. He asks if she is strange, and if she is still dreaming and she thinks. Pulling her brows together as she thinks before looking at him. "Some may consider me strange, but I think strange is good. Do you think strange is bad? Maybe I am still dreaming, maybe you should try it." She adds the last bit with a small laugh, lighthearted and easy. She enjoyed this quite a bit yes. She watched unwaveringly as he watched her, he seemed to think a lot. And it didn't bother her, she gave him the time. Didn't rush him at all, just let him weigh his options and consider her in whatever ways he was. As he finally moved forward he commented on her lack of fear again, she could hear the skepticism and she just nodded. "No reason for me to be." She didn't leave room for him to argue, he had given her no reason. Even if he was capable of danger, was capable of causing her pain she was able to also. But that didn't mean she always would. So why would he? Redrum mentions how he does not sit with strangers, yet he is lowering himself into her space. Sharing it with her as she looks at him, curiosity evident in her gaze. Then he mentions how she is not a stranger anymore, and she nods. "I'd much rather prefer to be your friend if you'd like. I'd enjoy being Redrum's friend." She offers with a playful smile. And then she thinks for a moment, wondering what to talk about now. "You mentioned you liked to hunt yes? What is your favorite prey?" If he was more of a predator she would meet him on equal grounds, she would try to understand him as he was. If he was dangerous she would learn how to navigate it, the least she could do for her newly named friend. "Talk" Tell me how you loved before.

Her rebuttal bounced around in his mind—danger could be beautiful, she had said. Carnage, even. Her perspective twisted at something inside him, compelling in its own right. Naive? No, she was too sure of herself. His golden eyes gleamed curiosity, tracing her expression. She truly believed what she said, with no hesitation. This gave him pause. Danger was not beautiful. It could be thrilling, sure. But it could devour you if you did not overcome it. Had she a skewed sense of beauty then? That would explain her nickname for him.

He flexed his claws against the ground, his muscles tense beneath his ruddy fur. “Lea—sees beauty in—mess.” he muttered, not quite a question but an observation. He was no stranger to mess, but never had it been described as pretty. Nor he.

When she called herself strange, his golden eyes glinted, composed amusement filling him as he tilted his head again. "Strange is... not bad," he admitted, though his voice was struggling to maintain fluidity. He considered her next suggestion, her laughter catching him off guard again. He couldn’t begin to answer her suggestion at him trying his hand at dreaming. So, he left it unanswered.

Her gaze as he watched her only added to the unease in his chest. She didn’t flinch, didn’t falter, didn’t look away. And when she dismissed the notion of fear, her calm certainty left him strangely hollow. “No reason?” he echoed lowly, continuing with a furrow upon his brows. “Fear… keeps—us alive.” It was a survival instinct. Did she not have it?

When she offered her friendship, his gaze locked on her, searching for some hidden intent behind her playful smile. A lie, an entrapment. His tail beat against the ground, his body rigid as though bracing for an attack that never came. “Friend,” he repeated softly, almost like he was testing the word. Seeing if it would bite him. It felt unfamiliar, something to be wary of, yet there was no hostility in her eyes, no threat in her tone. “Leora… wants to be—Redrum’s friend?” he asked, a note of disbelief in his halting speech. “Strange,” he muttered again, but this time, the tug of amusement returned to his mouth; slowly morphing into a half grin across his lips “But… good.”

Her question about hunting made him consider his reply for many moments. Golden eyes narrowing thoughtfully, his tail twitching behind him. “Hunting is—challenging,” he said slowly. His gaze lingered on her longer this time, studying her. The freckles across her face caught his attention, an unusual detail—yet fitting for her he supposed. Her fur looked impossibly soft, and he wondered briefly what it would feel like under his touch. Plush like a rabbit in winter? Downy like a fresh spring chick? Silken like a dandelion puff? The thought startled him, and he shifted uncomfortably, his ears flattening as his lips quivered with more spasms. “Prey… is not—all the same.” The red brute paused, his gaze growing distant for a moment before snapping back to her with renewed intensity. “Big cats,” he said slowly, answering her question of his favorite prey. “They—fight back. Strong, clever. Equal.” His brow furrowed as he glanced at her again, tilting his head slightly, the motion sharp and feline-like. Equal had been entirely honest of a descriptor for his favorite prey.




"Murder"