Putting On A Show

Despite the business of the pack preparing for the yearlings' birthdays, Alastor's days had remained relatively unchanged. He still hunted when he needed to hunt, patrolled when he needed to patrol, and when Avacyn asked him for any help in her preparations, the doting father dropped everything to serve his little princess. For the most part, Saracyn had been filling that role well, taking his new duties seriously, it seemed. He was so proud of both his children, but especially of his son, who had been wild and rambunctious, yet focused when it came to his twin sister. Over the past few days, Alastor had seen Relm about the pack, exchanging small smiles with her when they passed, but he hadn't taken her up on her offer to have her at his whim just yet. Though Manea had given him permission to seek whatever pleasures he desired with Relm so long as he remained true to his vow and the Mendacium beliefs, he still wanted to be respectful to his mate by now immediately running off to fuck the other woman silly.

On this day, Alastor had finished up a patrol, passing off to Kichi before heading to the larders for a late breakfast. On the way back, he passed by a familiar flash of bright pink sitting almost statuesque beside the foot of the mountain. Alastor raised a curious brow and approached her, wondering what she was up to. As he drew closer, Relm rose and closed the distance between them. He saw her cloak on, obscuring the pink fur that highlighted her when she stood. Anxiousness emitted from the girl like an aura, not foreign to the young woman, and certainly not off-putting to the dire brute who knew her better than to assume it out of the ordinary. While her silver gaze wandered, his obsidian gaze remained on her the entire time, never straying.

Relm explained that she wanted to contribute food for the yearlings' festival, then asked if he wanted to go hunting with her. A smile spread over the man's face; genuine and just a subtle turn of his lips, and not his manic grin he oft wore around the rest of the world. "I'd be delighted to! I'd be loathe to turn down the chance for a good hunt!" he remarked, understanding the decision to wear her cloak now. She was hiding her ostentatious fur from any would-be prey. "This may not be required," he quipped with a chuckle, lifting a paw to trace the hem of fabric along her cloak. "Camouflaging yourself won't be of much use if your hunting partner is wearing bright red stripes, after all. But if you insist..." He would let Relm decide whatever she wanted; she could make her own choices. Of course, if it were up to him, he would have her hunt comfortable, without the excess clothing getting in her way—or obscuring his opportunity to enjoy the sights of her along the way.

"Alastor"