What in the hell had happened to land her in this position? Oh right, she'd been jumping from ledge to ledge, around the gorge, exploring the cracks and crevices, when she found a small path, that apparently led to the top. She had followed it because she was apparently and idiot, and hadn't paid much attention to the loose rocks that she was walking on, until the earth gave way- out from under her. She barely had time to react, rushing forward as the rocks crumbled beneath her, twisting and falling through the ground, it was mere moments till she felt herself falling. Long ivory legs flailed at the ground grabbing for anything- any traction she could possibly get. She saw a root sticking out from the ground and she grabbed it between her jaws, whimpering as she felt it give way, then letting out a sigh as it stopped. That was what had brought here here, dangling by her front paws and jaws from the side of a cliff, wondering how in the hell she was going to get out of this mess. Making the mistake of looking down, she felt her stomach nearly harden. She wasn't sure how she'd make it out of this. She was going to die, from falling off a cliff. Well, fuck. Speech,

He honestly doesn?t follow the Queen wherever she goes; he?s not a creepy guy, after all. Primal, perhaps, crude, maybe, but nobody could ever call him a stalker. It is simply by coincidence that the Germanic warrior finds himself coming across the current woman of his desires dangling on a ledge, an unexpected tinge of panic settling in. He hurries towards her, massive frame drawing nearer until he is within range. ?Liebling, hold on,? he tells her. There is no denying the fear in his voice; never before has he come across a woman that holds his fancy quiet as much. He does not want to lose her, not before he discovers what all of this means.

He seeks to bite into her scruff, to get a solid hold. Muscles contract, yanking backwards as he seeks to roughly, swiftly, pull the ivory Queen to the safety of solid ground. His heart beats loudly, and he wonders if she can hear his panic, wonders if she can smell his fear. He hopes not; even he doesn?t know where this all comes from, and he is uncertain if he could accurately explain his concerns if she were to ask him about them.

Of all the times she could be a damsel in distress, this was perhaps the only one where she felt no way out, well, except for down. She's breathing raggedly now, her chest heaving- she can scent her own fear. Roman Armada is terrified, because she knows she's going to die. Then she hears a voice, and if fate wasn't cruel enough it seems that the last person she has to deal with before she dies is the nameless wolf she'd accepted, the flustering yet desperately hot asshole. Liebling, hold on, she hears him speak, and feels a familiar prickle of annoyance. What in the hell does Liebling mean? Looking down, she whines slightly... okay so the nickname doesn't really matter right now. "Well, I'm not going anywhere." She bites out around the root in her mouth, she doesn't even know if he can hear her.

She feels his teeth connect with her scruff, and feels herself being pulled up. Flailing with her paws, she scrabbles at the ground, trying to help her and in the movement she almost questions if the can smell his fear. Fear? That's not a feeling she'd expect from him, but did arrogance have a scent? Slowly, she's moving upwards, now her front half is at the top of the ledge and she's pulls herself- a whine escaping her as she momentarily feels herself sliding backwards, back into the chasm of doom. Her violet eyes look upwards at her savior, locking on to his form. Pulling herself forward to help him in his struggle, she uses her hind legs to push off the ledge beneath her, surging herself upward and forward- and straight towards him. She doesn't care that if he doesn't let go of her quickly that she's tumble right on top of him, all she wants is to not die.

He ignores her sarcasm for now; perhaps later he will remark about how bitter she was when he was saving her god damn life. For now, he needs to pull her to safety. His warrior?s build works for him this time around; she slips back down once but he holds soundly, nearly falling down for a moment himself. No, he will not die today, and neither will Roman. Finally he manages to pull her up, but not without consequences. She surges forth, knocking him over and landing her standing over him.

His head hits the ground relatively hard, and he is jolted for a moment. ?Don?t do that to me again,? he snaps at her, a rare moment of openness. He isn?t talking about his currently spinning head; he?s talking about scaring him. Fear isn?t an emotion he?s ever experienced, nor is it one that he particularly likes. He feels weak, but he can only be snappy now because she is safe. His breathing settles, and he begins to notice just what position they have found themselves in, but he cannot bring it to himself to comment.

She?s safe, after all, and he can?t focus upon the fact that she?s beautiful and they?re close together. She?s safe and that?s all he cares for in the moment.

Her chest heaves with efforts of breathing and she's trembling both from exhaustion and fear. Moments after she lands, standing over him, and realizes that they're very close. She imagines that their fur is touching but it really could just be the nerves. 'Don't do that to me again' he snaps at her and she flinches away from him, for the moment she's vulnerable- to shaken by her near death to snap a retort. She is staring down at him, but she isn't seeing him- rather she's lost in the fear, the trauma. She doesn't know what to say, what to do. She trembles, and lets herself feel that overwhelming panic for a moment.

What does she say to him? He saved her life the least she could do is thank him, but why did he save her if he seemed so angry? She doesn't realize that his words could be out of fear, and for a few moments she a vulnerable child again. Snap out of it, the mental command reverberates around her mind. Shaking her head slightly, she stares at him and says the only things she can think of, "Hi." The word is a hoarse whisper, but her violet eyes seek his green eyes. This is no smart ass statement, no retort to his apparent anger, no, it's the only word that her mind can form. Hi.

He expects his Queen to respond with anger, but she doesn?t. Instead her response is a simple hello, her vibrant eyes floating into his bright green ones. He loses himself in her for a moment, and he isn?t sure what to say. ?Hi,? he says back, quiet. He doesn?t ask her to move; she is free to do so whenever she chooses, and he is not forcing her to be in this situation. ?You scared me,? he confesses. He doesn?t know what it is about Roman, but she sparks his interest.

He doesn?t want to lose her, doesn?t want to see her go down. At least not until she?s lost her shine, not until she?s become dull and unimportant like the rest of the women he seeks to fuck every now and then. But as of now she feels different, and he doesn?t want to risk losing any of that.

Her mind is at lost as she stares down at the tiger marked wolf, pale ears flick forward as he speaks, returning her greeting- his voice soft. 'You scared me.' He says, and she blinks, looking away, guilt in her eyes. "I scared myself." She whispered. She's young, she always knew death was near, but today she opened its door and nearly walked into its house. The realization of her own mortality is nearly too much. She realizes she's still standing over him and she backs away slowly, so that he can stand. Awkwardly, her eyes watch him and she feels her jaws open and hears her words before she processes them. "You never told me your name." She says suddenly, and she realizes that its true. It was the nameless stranger that saved her, she doesn't even know who he is. She waits, standing slightly away from him- though part of her wishes to be closer to him. For the moment, she doesn't want to leave his side, she wants to feel him.

Of course she had scared herself, and perhaps another time he might make a sarcastic remark about it, but he is weighed down by how serious this moment is. He almost wishes to hold Roman, to let her know she?s safe, that he has her back, that he wouldn?t have ever let her fall off that cliff. But he stays silent, and hopes the intensity of his eyes lets her know everything she needs. She moves back, as much as he dislikes the fact, leaving him laying down. Reluctantly he stands, bringing himself far taller than his smaller ivory companion.

He realizes he?s never told her of his name, her words falling on his ears as a gentle request. Another day he might playfully deny her his name, but today he will not. ?Faust Dietrich,? he tells her. ?Can I get my kiss now?? he asks innocently, because he almost can?t take this. He doesn?t understand this situation, and he needs to break the moment. Maybe she?ll smack him, or maybe he?ll get lucky enough and she?ll oblige him. He doesn?t mind either way; he doesn?t know what this is, and maybe he?ll find out, but part of him is afraid and doesn?t want to know what the fear in his heart meant.

The intensity of his gaze, it's almost too much. She wonders why he was so scared. He didn't know her.. what would he have lost if she had fallen to her death? She supposed she owed him her life now, she can't help but feel like she's going to wish that he'd let her fall eventually. As he stands, she feels the same attraction and severe annoyance that she's always felt towards him. She didn't remember that he was so damn tall. Finally, he gives her his name- and she nods- satisfied. Of course he has to push it, asking for a kiss and she snorts with laughter. She isn't sure what she should do, could anything she gives him physically repay the debt she now felt she owed him?

She moves slowly at her towards him, until she's at his chest before craning her head up and stretching to her tip toes. Gently, her tongue laps out of her jaws and seeks to touch the skin of his muzzle, there's a lot in that movement, that simple symbol of affection, just part of the thank you she owes him. Resting back on her feet, she remains close to him, looking up at him. She doesn't know what to say to him, so she just stares, lost in the intensity of the situation.

She is amused, and he doesn?t expect her to respond to his request in any sort of positive way. But she does; she moves closer, stepping onto the tips of her toes as her flesh contacts with his, tongue rushing against his muzzle. It sends a shockwave through him, and his own head lowers, tongue parting from his lips to press a gentle kiss to the top of her forehead. ?You?re one hell of a woman,? he tells her, enjoying the moment as he loses himself fin her gaze, feeling a fire that desires more but not wanting to push it, for fear that he would push her away.

Instead he merely stays where he is, the tension between them unbearable. He will let the Queen decide what she wants, but if she makes him wait too long he cannot promise himself that he will not be bold, that he will not propose something that he?s always wanted, but never quite so bad. He wishes to affirm to himself that she is still here, that she still breathes, for there is part of him that fears he was not quick enough. Part of him that fears he has not done the one good thing he is capable of doing; protecting.

Electricity crackles through her skin, as his salmon tongue kisses her forehead, and she stares at him. She isn't sure what shows in her violet eyes, but she's aware that she's never felt anything that intense before. How could she when the only male contact she'd ever had was with her rapist? That thought shakes her confidence, and she looks away before taking a step back. She's damaged goods, why would someone who could obviously have the world... waste even a second on her. His words, she finds it hard to believe- If she were truly any kind of woman, she wouldn't have ever succumbed to the monster that had ravaged her purity. The thought cuts deep to her, and she takes a few more steps back- no longer meeting his gaze. "I-I... I... need to go." She stammers, turning and hissing with pain as she feels the strain from her cliff dive in every muscle in her body. She hadn't realized she'd strained herself so much. Turning her back, on the handsome wolf- she pads away, her head low, occasionally hissing with pain. The grumbles grew soft with each step, as she quiets her complaints. She can't burden him any further, and that's all she is- a burden.

She moves away from him, and for once in his life, Faust respects the boundaries of a woman. He makes not move to close the gap, instead observing the woman of his fancy as she seeks to create space between them. He frowns as he watches her wander away, saying that she needs to go. ?See you in Tortuga, my Queen,? he calls after her. He makes no move to chase after her for now; he?s gotten close enough for one afternoon. Instead he gives her space before following behind, leaving enough room so she doesn?t get suspicious, but remaining close enough so that he might guard her. Like hell he would let anything happen to the Queen now.