Ashiel slowly emerged from his makeshift den. The snowstorm had passed and the morning light was just beginning to creep over the horizon turning the snow to golden glitter and the sky to a pale blue.  The few pine trees that decorated the area were completely laden with snow. It hung in great globs that caused many trees to drip with the weight of it. He let out a sigh.  Where was spring when you needed it? He extricated himself from his den, shaking off the snow that clung to his fur. It was deep in some places, shallow in others. The wind having swept it into elegant curves and dunes.  Ashiel started his trek, letting his path curve as needed to to avoid walking right through the large drifts.  Sure he was big and tall but that didn't mean he wanted to get unnecessarily covered with snow that might later melt and leave him freezing.  He had happened to pause beneath one clump of pines to take a rest when a chittering little bird started making a fuss. Ashiel was fine with ignoring the little creature until it took off from the pine, causing just enough disturbance that- WHUMP! A pile of snow descended upon Ashiel's head. He was so stunned that for a moment he just stood there before violently shaking it off with a growl. "Talk" "You" Think

nephthys Under a dove grey sky the colours of the babe world don their winter coats, each hue darker and richer than before. The path sparkles and crunches, like sugar underpaws, and the coolness brings her right into the now, into the moment of life. Though the flowers sleep and the trees show their lofty arms once more, a frown plays along her beautifuly crafted visage. For as much as she loves the summertime, she loaths winter. She is accustomed with the dry weather of Egypt, where the head puts you down in a puddle of sweat during the day and freezes you during the night hours. Curiosity wound it's fingers against the pale throat of the babe, and decidedly would not relinquish until she complied. Choking, twisting, clenching tighter and ever the more sweetly until the ivory of her pelt was smothered by the earthen russet coloration, the wind attempting to stop her movement but not today. She would not be swayed by sensibility or logic; nay, though most may find absolute reason to avoid such a place because Gods know that even during Spring the snow in the Northen regions won't melt, at least not all, therefore she'd stride further and deeper into the belly of the beast: as though she were ready to greet perdition like an estranged lover, a flame, just begging to be rekindled. and there, there it laid, a fragrance familiar that passed through her nostrils, tickling her sensations, a cologne unlike any other, easy to recognise. Ashiel. The man that disturbed her ritual. Playing on your own, Ashiel? she purred, her chest vibrating as she lifted her frame, leaning on the pine tree in front of him, arching her spine and raising her hips. Why, you should have invited me. she continued with a humm, pomegranate optics eyeing the man before her with a smile on her visage, thoughts about seasons and loathing fading from her mind, focusing on the amusing image of the proud lupine covered in snow. Hear my voice come with me where the moon is made of gold

Warning: this is a mature themed character.
She has a 20" caracal by the name of Alphonse. It shall be presumed that he is with her all the time unless stated otherwise.
Ithuriels, Hannibal and her pups are allowed to crash her threads regardless of the tag!

Let's Plot Together

Sending snow through the air like golden glitter as the sun caught it, Ashiel dislodged as much as he could as the rich and familiar tones of Nepthys voice graced his ears. Curses! That meant she'd seen his little embarrassment but Ashiel was quick to try and put it behind himself, turning to her with as much regal air as he could manage. "Ha! Not so much playing as falling victim to some mischievous sprites." He eyed her silently as she stretched along a pine tree. "Had I known you were about I'd have greeted you like the sun, lady Nepthys. Pray tell, what brings you so far north? Why I'm almost beginning to wonder if you've been stalking me." He winked playfully at her before striding powerfully toward her, his tail held high and bold as he recovered from his previous embarrassment. "Talk" "You" Think

Would it be alright to set this thread after the adolescent gang meet-up party?

nephthys Breath pale against the numbing air, the danseur blinked thoughtfully as the snow that left Ashiel's fur patiently kissed her visage, captivated by the soft, dusty illusions of light that sat heavy on her long, black eyelashes acting like a veil. I did not expect to run into you, Ashiel. she purred, tea cup paws returning on the ground as she moved forward, mile-long legs closing the distance between them mimicing him. It seems to happen quite often. she accentuated the last word in a thick egyptian blanket as she lessened her pace in front of him. Raising and falling, her chest moving with each inhale of the numbing north air, taking in his scent, his cologne streaming of power, strenght and so potently male. What are you doing here? she questioned, raising her brow before a small, harmonious chuckle escaped her black, voluptous lips. Circling, prawling like a predator the danseur started to circle the youthful male; her hips, left and right, moving in a graceful swing, a tango, passionate, intimate, made to attract the eyes of the crowd. Pomegranate gaze never left the male, measuring him from head to two, observing every muscle rippling beneth his pelt and every fine hair thread he had to offer. Hair voluptous tail looked more like a foxs then a wolf but nevertheless, it swayed against his side in elegance, sharing the heat for a mere moment before allowing herself to come to a halt in semi-circle, behind him. Maybe you are the real stalker. she whispered under her breath before she sprung forward, front limbs stretched for balance and for a grip of the other man shoulder, a playful attempt at his balance in order to push him into the snow once again. Hear my voice come with me where the moon is made of gold

Warning: this is a mature themed character.
She has a 20" caracal by the name of Alphonse. It shall be presumed that he is with her all the time unless stated otherwise.
Ithuriels, Hannibal and her pups are allowed to crash her threads regardless of the tag!

Let's Plot Together

ooc: Ok, that works for me.

Breath slipping from his maw in fine mist, Ashiel drank in the cool air as he watched Nepthys gracefully return to her paws to the ground. He tried not to over think their meetings but he couldn't help but wonder if the Fallen god was working something for a particular reason. Was it fate that kept him crossing paths with this woman? Could she perhaps be an ally? It was said the Fallen god had amassed an army of lesser gods and perhaps her family were the descendants of one such ally. Surely fate was stringing him along. He nodded as she referenced their meeting often. "It certainly seems that way. I'm beginning to wonder if there is a greater purpose behind it." She asked what he was doing there and he rolled his shoulders languidly forward, stretching his neck elegantly. "Just exploring. Learning what I can of the lands and packs of the north before I make my move." She began to circle him and out of instinct he followed her, keeping his front facing toward her at all times as though this was the beginning of a spar. As he did his eyes wandered over her form. He took quick glances, at first trying not to get caught but each moment his gaze would grow bolder but when his gaze lowered to the space between her legs his eyes grew wide for a second and he quickly looked away. Had he misjudged her? Was Nepthys in fact, male? Her scent had seemed female to him but now he found himself wondering. He wanted to ask but was unsure how to and so he kept silent. He chuckled as she asked if he was the real stalker. Suddenly she sprang forward, her arms wrapping around the base of his neck, resting in front of his shoulders and they were brought chest to chest (as he'd been focusing on facing her). Her weight was pulling on him but his heavier build and larger size would prevent her from tossing him in the snow. He grinned playfully, his hind legs spreading, tail flagging out for balance as he sought to wrap his arms around her ribcage, just below her armpits. He sought to grab hold and twist his upper body sharply to his right to toss her into the snow instead. "Talk" "You" Think

Sorry for assuming Luns. I need to remember not to post at 8 AM in the morning right after work. x-x

nephthys Like a sip of fine wine tha only gets better with age - the danseur acts a perfect, pretty doll before the gentleman. A lady of moonlight, some might say, she looks and speaks the refined yet her audits could not help but catch each syllable of the man before her, he was speaking of greater purposes and it made her tilt her regalia towards the left to the slightest. All of us have a purpose, Ashiel, yet I doubt it is tied to somebody else. ink, voluptous lips parted to allow the spread of words flow softly from them, like a violing, like a piano, it was music to ones ears, harmony. One paw in front of the other, calculated, predatory, they circles each other, mimicking his steps, the danseur performed her tango, hips moving in allure as pomegranate optics followed his every movement, fromt the bristle of his hair threads to the penetrating gaze of the male. Quick glances, here and there, short, lasting, made a chuckle to vibrate aloud from the back of her throat. What was this man doing? She thought, offering him a mocking expression that painted her visage right before she leaped towards him. Where most parents pass blood, Ithuriel passed down ice and the slightest hint of poison. Even though the babe acts the ice statue like her father, a whisper on the wind and intangible as she is beautiful, keeping others at bay but on some ocassions she was capable of letting only the slightest few into her icy shell thefore such aspect made the danseur wonder if Ashiel was heading towards that direction. In a fraction of second they were at "eachothers throat" per say, chest to chest, their hair thread mixing into one another until one could not tell which one was which. He was stronger than her that was for sure but she is not going to come down without a fight. She had one more ace in her sleeve. A smirk played across the beautiful facade of the ice queen before volutous lips parted to leave place for a plush, coral tongue to roll out of her pretty maw; wetness met coarse, a drag across the other ear, tickling the fine hair thread in a shallow attempt to create confusion. If succeded the danseur would attempt to part her hind limbs for further balance and push with all her strenght against the massive ashen brute to throw him in the snow. Hear my voice come with me where the moon is made of gold

Warning: this is a mature themed character.
She has a 20" caracal by the name of Alphonse. It shall be presumed that he is with her all the time unless stated otherwise.
Ithuriels, Hannibal and her pups are allowed to crash her threads regardless of the tag!

Let's Plot Together

Powerful arms wrapped around Nephthys sides as her scent washed over him but he would not falter. Ashiel absently rolled his feelings around in his head before abandoning them for the rush and freedom impulse gave him. Her grinned at her. Black lips pulling over ivory fangs in a playful challenge. He was not the sort to fall easily but the temptress was not without her tricks. Before he could twist to try and toss her she would shift forward, her tongue darting out and stroking his left ear. The sudden warm wetness took him by surprise and he stumbled back, falling to all fours. Nephthys was persistent, he swiftly grounded himself as she tried once again to push him into the snow. A wicked little idea slipped into his mind and he ducked swiftly, his front limbs coiling as he left his hind end raised in the air. His goal was to duck sharply enough that he'd slip right between her arms and she would lose her grip. Hindlegs coiled as he pushed forward, hoping to tackle the woman and flip her on her back. He wasn't going to make this easy for her that was for sure. "Talk" "You" Think

nephthys The air was quiet and calm in the expanse of the gaia. The landscape surrounding them smelled of freshness and age and earth, refreshing if not for the distraction that mars her mind and body and soul that her handsome companion provided. The stillness of the place shifts and moves, as if time itself shuffles its space to accommodate something that comes, and comes she does as she loses her grip, the ashen man ducking and slipping through her limbs right before her eyes. It did not took long for the babe to be on her back in the snow, pomegranate optics, glimmering in the light, filled with wonder and surprise. Well, well, there might be something to this man after all. It was more than meant the eyes. Cheater. she announced in a pur, a dramatic movement of her delicate tea-cup paw over her forehead. I declare myself defeated. she continued, her voice but a whisper, harmonious against the quiet breeze. Hear my voice come with me where the moon is made of gold

Warning: this is a mature themed character.
She has a 20" caracal by the name of Alphonse. It shall be presumed that he is with her all the time unless stated otherwise.
Ithuriels, Hannibal and her pups are allowed to crash her threads regardless of the tag!

Let's Plot Together

Success! Ashiel grinned, his tail held high and triumphant as he managed to flip Nepthys onto her back. He moved to rest his great weight upon her as he chuckled. "Cheater? My dear Nepthys, what you just witnessed was a show of skill." She declared herself defeated and he grinned. "Maybe we can have a rematch sometime." He climbed off her, stepping aside so that she could stand again as he shook the snow from his coat and eyed the climbing of the sun. "I will need to return soon to Auster. I can't remember if I asked but do you live up here or are you perhaps traveling southward as well? I wouldn't mind the company." "Talk" "You" Think