At home in your arms

The trek from the northern lands that he'd come to loathe was rife with tension, and though the mysterious woman had assured him that she intended to help him, was acting in his interests.... well, he hadn't truly trusted anyone in years. He wasn't even certain he fully trusted the man that he'd only recently been able to hold in his arms, after such a long wait. How did one come to trust, anyhow? Years of abuse and indentured servitude did not make for a particularly willing participant under any circumstances. So he walked mutely and with his head low, carrying his sword across the flank which did not rub shoulders with the dainty, scarred fae. The macaque that continued to accompany him everywhere hung back for the journey, maintaining a safe distance from the wolves for his own self-preservation if things went awry.

And then they were somewhere entirely new, though maybe familiar. Hadn't he once hunted mudskippers in the area? Hard to place the memory somewhere concrete anymore. With a curt nod and a promise to reconnect later, the fawn coloured she-wolf left him at the borders. Sea foam eyes narrowed warily, hackles bristling slightly as he surveyed the landscape. Glimmering pools collected trickling streams of warm water all around him, originating from the objectively beautiful falls a little ways ahead. He hummed low in his throat as he examined the scene before him. The macaque appeared at his side, and grabbed hold of his muzzle rather forcefully to point his line of sight in the right direction. The direction that brought Mojito into view. Without a word, the primate relieved him of his weapon and scampered off to seek shelter in the trees in the meantime.

"Mojito," he crooned softly, sore paws carrying him the short distance that remained between the two males. A small, tired smile toyed at inky lips as he filled his sight with the vision that stood before him. Cast in the ruddy glow of sunset, the delicate frame of his lover appeared gilded and perhaps even divine as he stood before him. The concern that furrowed his brow was paid no mind, nor the tension in Mojito's shoulders. No, the wraith cared only for those ice blue eyes and charmingly folded-over ears. Could he ever tire of the sight?

"I'd wondered when I may see you again- hold you again." he spoke the words softly, with a hint of reverence beneath the laid-bare hunger that clung to every syllable. Restraint was one of his greatest strengths, but in this moment it was truly tested. Could he cast aside all other thoughts, all other emotions tied to this fateful reunion, and waste the golden hours of waning sunlight with fervent repayment of his newfound debt to Mojito? He wanted to. He craved that familiar reassurance of physical touch, of debts paid in flesh and desire.

Yet... that was so out of place here. Despite his life being forfeit for the right price, even now, he'd been assured that this was not a proper purchase. He owed a debt, but this was new territory. All of this toiling for the simplicity of affection, of fondness. Of... love?