Rosemary waded into the pond, his nose turned downward as the silvery fish darted by. He had become more interested in his fishing companion at the previous spot he had chosen and given up fishing entirely after two tried but now it was time to try again and hope his good luck hadn’t run out. Silently he hovered over the pool, his paws deep in the muddy water and waited until a flash of scales passed by and he struck, hard and fast, hoping to catch one of the wiggling masses of scales and flesh. On his back the two headed rat giggled and whispered between themselves at their companion’s expense, not that he cared at the moment, far too preoccupied with the contest now that he was undisturbed. speaking

Not to be undisturbed for long. Rags stumbled her way into the water, cussing quietly. Her clumsy paws splashed water every which way, but she was trying to look on the bright side: at least her jaws worked properly! Spotting another figure fishing nearby, she ambled and waded her way through the waters until she was a respectful distance away. Close enough to invite conversation, but not so close as to intrude. At least she hoped.

Ever since her unceremonious arrival in Lirim, she had been hesitant to make assumptions about anything. Assuming (and not caring) had caused her one too many problems already. Spotting a silvery fish dart by, Rags went after it with her open mouth.

Attempt #1

Rosemary dove in for another attempt, vaguely aware of another’s presence as he worked. The rat tugged at his hackles while his head was submerged and he lifted it, his ears flicking as he looked over the stranger. Strange certainly described her, but he found a certain charm in her pale coat that was undeniable. He grinned at her, his eyes hooded as he purred a warm. “Greetings.”In her direction, his tail flicking slightly as she stepped closer. The rat tittered excitedly, red and blue eyes glinting with mischief as they looked the woman over while she ambled through the water, only to have their attention pulled away as Rosemary ducked his head for a fourth chance at catching a fish. speaking

"Hello," Rags said, relief evident in her voice. They were already in a pond, so it wasn't like she could get punted further into the water. "Have you been enjoying the festival?" Despite her altered gait and clumsiness, Rags' had a fine speaking voice. It was something she prided herself on; there was so little she could be proud of. Or at least that's what it felt like.

Rosemary seemed to have an air of... something. It was intriguing. "I'm Ragnheiðr. And you?" Another fish darted by and she went for it, hoping to snag a big one. Right? That's what they were after, wasn't it? Some of the rules of this festival were terribly strange.

Attempt #2

“My name is Rosemary, and yes I have been.” He purred, ducking his head again as another fish swam past and he reached to grab it from the murky water. He tossed his catch onto the bank with a satisfied grin and returned his attention to the female. “What of yourself? You seem to be faring well.” He cooed The rat lept from his back, duo heads peeking above the water as it paddled over to the woman, noses twitching in unison as they investigated her. “Don’t be afraid, they’re quite friendly.” He assured her, shaking his fur out once and letting it fall neatly back into place. speaking

Rosemary's coy attitude was almost like a game. It was a welcome distraction from the fair's other unfortunate, physically-focused activities. A smooth conversation was just the thing. Of course, Rags was also in heat, but she desperately hoped that the murky water was concealing the tell-tale scent. He was terribly attractive; there was something strangely enchanting about him... perhaps his vaguely feminine features? Androgyny had always appealed to her.

Twitching her tail, Rags focused on another fish in the water and went for it. "Ah... well, I suppose," she murmured. Torin had been kind enough to invite her along, he couldn't have known that most events had to do with physical prowess. They had had such a productive conversation about her strengths! Or was this all some kind of joke? As she was wrapped up in her thoughts, a strange two-headed creature paddled up to her. Rags stumbled in surprise, ending up sitting flat on her butt in the water. "Well, isn't that something." she murmured, stretching out her own nose to greet... them? It?

Attempt #3

The wind shifted and the scent of estrus reached him, raising a long bristle of fur along his back. He licked his lips, his eyes wide on the woman, before a fish flickered past his paws and he dove once again to catch it. He flung the fish onto the bank and shook his fur out again, a soft rumble climbing his throat as he spoke. “That’s an interesting name. What does it mean?” Again his white tail flicked his eyes roving over her, but no, he willed himself to look away, forcing himself to focus on his task and avoid losing track of the event for a second time. speaking

Rags could feel his gaze on her now - it was a pleasant thing, really, to be wanted like that. Her rank in Lirim was still one of punishment; besides her recent chat with Torin and happening upon Kairi on patrol, she hadn't been in mixed company for quite a while. She would be the first to admit that her physical form wasn't exactly desirable, so to feel Rosemary's inquisitive gaze was a welcome relief. It was almost normal. She felt almost beautiful.

She shifted herself slightly towards him and continued her quest for fish. Coyly, she used her tracking and diving to place herself closer and closer to Rosemary's flank. Plenty of wolves underestimated her; was it really such a bad thing, to be wanted? To be looked at with hungry eyes? Rags dove after another fish, hoping for a catch. "It means bright advice, or something similar. I'd like to think myself cunning," she said playfully.

Attempt #4

“You certainly seem bright to me little dove.” He purred coquettishly then broke the held eye contact between them to make a grab for another fish. So far he hadn’t had much luck in his changed fishing spot, but the interest of the woman was most welcome even after the attentions of the other male. He could feel his interest in the fish slipping, far more interested in the pale girl’s advances and far more enthralled in their flirtations. “Why don’t we get to know each other better after the fishing is done?” He hummed, a deep rumble building in his chest with each word, and waved his tail to send a heady cloud of pheromones toward her. speaking

Little dove. She felt girlish again! With her shambling gait, permanently saddled ears and limp tail, it wasn't often that she felt beautiful. Sure, she got on alright, but there was always a niggling of poor self-esteem leftover from her youth. It was one of those things that was difficult to shake, it was so deeply ingrained. "Get to know each other? What would you suggest?" Rags asked, tilting her head to the side.

His pheromones excited her. She had never been intimate with a male before. Most were too afraid to ask if her condition was genetic or not, and so they kept their distance. To propagate your line was already something fraught with difficulty - she imagined it was easy to suffer from choice paralysis, especially with so many new faces at this festival. Why her, then? Rags tried to go after another fish, burying her insecurities deeper. "Where do you come from?" she asked, steering the conversation towards more rote communication. He smelled strongly of pack, but not one that she had scented upon her arrival to these lands. Did he come from far away, or was there another group that had formed? Perhaps Torin would consider this information valuable.

Attempt #5

A wide grin split his features at her initial question and he was prepared to give her a sordid answer when her second question caught him off guard. For a moment he focused on fishing yet again and snatched one of the silvery trout in his maw before returning to the question at had. “I come from a pack named Ashen and I live quite comfortably there.” He explained. “I have a high rank and am well respected among my siblings.” He added, his tail waving once again although his musk lacked potency with his recent derailment. He found her awkward gait endearing and enjoyed the unusual patterns in her fur, any children they sired would be marbled titans with disarmingly adorable ears and slim runner's bodies. speaking

"Ashen? I don't think I've heard of it," she confessed. But respect and high rank was about the sexiest thing she'd heard in weeks. After her time as a poenas in Lirim, Rosemary's situation sounded like heaven. What would it feel like to have respect? Would it feel as good as how he was eyeing up her body right now, or better?

There were certain places that she couldn't abide due to her condition - excessive snow and heat, particularly, but she didn't want to get ahead of herself. It was much better to be shrewd about this. He wouldn't find her throwing herself at him to be particularly attractive; wasn't that what all males craved, the chase? Well, Rags had never been good at running, so he'd be able to catch her quite quickly. "Your siblings? Do you have a family name?" Perhaps that would ring some bells. Wolves in Boreas seemed to pride themselves on such things, but they didn't mean much to her. Having been abandoned in her youth, whatever family name she might have had long been consigned to memory. She wagged her tail softly, blowing pheromones in his direction. Another glint of silver swam by and she bent down to try and grab it.

Attempt #6

He stepped closer to her his hot breath against her ear as he spoke; “Klein" he rumbled then like a serpent he slipped away from her, feigning interest in the fish and dunking his head under the water again. The rat returned to his back and tittered excitedly, red and blue beady eyes resting on her and getting the sum of her swirled markings.

“Do you have a family little dove?” he purred. “Perhaps you would prefer to share mine.” He flashed her a wide grin his eyes hooded as he dropped his catch at his paws the dead fish turning belly up as it floated dead in the water.

His offer was strange and enticing. There was something terribly exotic about the male, and Rags found it nearly irresistible. Rose's lips fluttered at her ear and it was impossible to stop a little bit of a shiver wriggle its way down her spine. It felt like her body was a small, steady flame and he was set on coaxing it into a roaring blaze. She hadn't felt this way since before the accident - just before she'd turned two, the onset of her very first heat.

It brought a torrent of memories rushing back. Struggling to remain cool, Rags set her eyes on the shifting waters. She dove in after another fish, hoping that the sensation of the scales on her lips would bring her back to her senses. "My family is long gone - I don't know where they are. I think I'm past the age of being carried off by some handsome stranger," she murmured, offering a coy smile. Little dove, little dove. If only she could just fly away.

Attempt #7