Post by Mythri on Jul 24, 2009 23:21:06 GMT -5
Cast:
Mythri, adolescent female cougar
Cael, adolescent male cougar
Warning:
The following scene has been rated PG-13 for an intense situation involving sensuality. Viewer discretion is advised.
Scene:
It took her a while to fall asleep once the other adolescent finally left her alone and departed from the immediate area. Mythri, as she obviously couldn't relocate or even shift to a more comfortable resting position, watched and waited for several long minutes afterward, suspicious of the male returning, but when it seemed that she was finally alone once more, she decided that sleep, hopefully uninterrupted, was too valuable to put off, and did her best to fall asleep as quickly as possible. By this point there's very little, if any, bleeding, although there is still significant pain. But as long as Mythri stays still, the pain is bearable. Breathing isn't excrutiating anymore, thankfully, and she has limited head and neck movement now. Her last conscious thought before drifting off into the peaceful blackness is gratitude that the boy didn't seem to be bothered all that much by her rather strong scent; his concern for her wounds alone did a lot to ease her anxiety.
How long has it been? A few hours, at most. After finding Mythri prone and obviously gashed by cougar claws, and trying his best to make her comfortable (though, in truth, Cael can't help but think he made her that much more uncomfortable), the young male fled the scene. But not entirely. In fact, leaving the female be, he began to canvas a in slow, widening spiral around her position in the forest. He picked up stray scents, old scents, but it seemed that whatever took place among those trees was something that no animal bore witness to, and if they did they've fled for safer places. He tried to pick up a trail of someone unfamiliar, but whoever attacked the cougaress did a good job of hiding themselves. They could still be nearby, and Cael's nerves grew edgier by the minute. But he found no traces of any creature, as as time passed he felt it more and more likely that this non-Amaranth cougar is nowhere nearby. At one point, he tried to bring down a fat game bird he stumbled on, but the younger hunter was not ready for the opportunity, and Mythri will go hungry for a while longer. When the sun peaked and began its decent to the other side of the mountain, Cael decided to return to the deep woods to check on the cougaress he left there. He couldn't bear himself to leave the woods to find his father, not yet, not when she is that vulnerable. If something happened to her, well, he wouldn't forgive himself... or Kein, for that matter, for insisting on a report. He catches himself before he sighs aloud, bright blue eyes peering through the undergrowth as he approaches Mythri's last known spot. A shakey breath is exhaled as he sees her, still there... still breathing, but obviously still in pain. His ears flatten slightly as he steps a few delicate paces closer, and then he stops. The scent of blood and battle is all but removed, but heavy in the air is... is... /Mythri/. The adolescent blinks, and herein lies a dilemma; turn around and leave, or satisfy that insatiable male curiosity-- or, rather, see if she's alright? Curiosity kills cats, and Cael is no exception. He steps toward her, craning his neck even as he approaches and breaths in deeply through his nose and mouth.
No doubt if Cael knew exactly what he was smelling, or more specifically /why/ he was smelling that particular scent, he'd be running for the hills. Figuratively speaking, of course. Not like he lives on top of one or anything. But would he really? He /is/ a male, after all, and there's no denying the inherent and virtually insatiable curiosity present in that particular gender. It's unfortunate for Mythri that she's asleep at present, as it might do her a little bit of good to have /some/ warning that she's currently the focus in an intense inspection and investigation. Namely, from the same boy who left not all that long ago, the one who she was finally convinced would be leaving her alone. Big mistake in /that/ assumption. It's even worse this time around, as there's no immediate sympathy or shock or even outrage to arrest his curiosity like the previous encounter, and even hour-by-hour, her scent is getting stronger. It's a mystery whether or not Revan noticed that his daughter was beginning to slide into that terrible ravine of no escape and dooooooom! Namely, her first heat.
Maybe Cael should have paid closer attention, or maybe Kein should have insisted more on his lecture, and maybe Cael should have even been a littler braver with his questions. He might have a little more to go on in this situation, and he might be wise enough to run... on the hills. He didn't, and neither did Kein. As the boy gets closer, his attention does manage to tear away from that strangely intoxicating aroma to give Mythri's body a cursory once over. She's still laying prone on the one side, so those cuts and scrapes look alright... but it's unlikely that her attacker decided to only come at her from one direction. Another breath out, strangely and surprisingly shaky, if he does think so himself, before he closes the space between them with a few more short steps. With a furrowed brow, and curiously watery eyes, Cael looks down at Mythri's sleeping form for a while, no doubt being a little creepy about it (if she were awake, of course), but that inherently male gene refuses to let go of his brain. Without really thinking bout what he's doing, he bends to investigate, tongue sticking from between his teeth to catch even more of that smell. He moves slowly from her shoulders, to her stomach... /hey/ now. He pulls his head back slightly, and licks his muzzle... nervous? He was so interested in her when she was walking away from him... Is that why? He bends again to answer that curiosity, breath puffing between his teeth... rather quickly, actually.
If she were awake, then no doubt the hills would be alive with the sound of... yelling. Lots and lots of yelling. But Mythri is still fast asleep, barely moving from where she originally crumpled onto her side. Her ribcage moves the tiniest of amounts as she breathes slow and steady, her body working hard to repair all the damage caused by her father. And once she wakes up, hopefully in several hours from now after some wonderful and uninterrupted sleep, there is a LOT of grooming and cleaning that needs to be done! Her poor fur is a /disaster/!
But, she's not awake. There is a part of him inside that is screaming at him to leave before something awful happens, the /sane/ part of him, but that wide-eyed curious look-over that Cael continues to give the female is goverend by a much more powerful voice. Cautiously, almost like approaching a cobra, he circles around Mythri and approaches her from behind, placing his forepaws on either side of her prone figure. The skin between his shoulders twitches as he leans down and delicately sniffs. He can't help but shudder then, voice suddenly low and rumbling in his chest as he takes a few quick steps over her so that his body is almost covering the female. Cael again dips his head toward her fur, his mind not really paying any attention to what he's doing; it's likely Mythri will wake up, quickly and in bad temper. The male closes his eyes, drowning in the cougaress' rich scent and feeling... something he's never quite felt before. He doesn't pinpoint it right away, but in her position, Mythri might be able to tell just what it is he's thinking.
[She knows it's going to be a long time before she's an adolescent, and manymanymanymany days until she finally reaches that goal of becoming.. a /cougaress/! An adult, just like her father! Mythri is proud, now, though, as she's finally become old enough to be called a juvenile. Still very young, but she's not just a /cub/ anymore! Beaming as Revan, her beloved father, lavishes praise on her for all the training she's completed and the exercises she's kept up with to make her body and mind strong. It's very unusual to hear such things; the normal conversations between them are serious. Punishment is not infrequent, and she really /doesn't/ like hearing his disappointed tone with her failures.]
"Father!" Mythri suddenly stirs a little, mumbling. "I'm so sor.. ry! Please.. let me have another chance!" The girl stirs a little more, grimacing even in her sleep at the pain of movement. "I won't f.. ail you again!" Tremble. More stirring, and even as the other adolescent stands above her, Mythri shifts slowly onto her back, face scrunching into a saddened grimace. And then, suddenly, it's over. Mythri goes limp, and after a few seconds, her breathing levels out again, slow and easy. Quite a contrast to the /other/ feline's breathing!
Cael jerks his muzzle away from Mythri's fur as she moves, a dumbfounded look melting across his face as he listens to her far off, distant words. He moved as if he had been struck by a paw to the face, reeling in that suddeness of her voice and of the pain that accompanied it. The male lets out a ragged breath and backpeddles once over her body to give her a bit more of some much needed space. If she were awake and not stuck in a dream world, she might just appreciate it. Cael's eyes flutter closed and he tries to calm his breathing, but with each inhail whatever drug Mythri has on her intoxicates him further. Managing to pry his eyes open again, he recovers the ground that he lost and again stands over her as she sleeps and while he is still obviously interested in exploring other avenues, what he does surprises even him. He lowers his head to press gently at the crook of her neck and shoulder, shuddering breath ghosting across her fur, "Mythri?" he stutters, chuffing at her. He'll likely get that real paw in the face, but, something /else/ is nagging at him, "You're dreaming. A nightmare. Wake up." His sentences are short, all he can manage to say, but perhaps too late he realizes it would have been a bit nicer for him not to be hovering over her, paws twitching and at the ready to grab her. The question remains, somewhere in his mind, though, /why/ would he do that when she is so obviously in pain?
Does the girl continue to dream about her father? Or was she ever dreaming in the first place? Maybe it was just a random and spontaneous subconscious memory that floated into her sleeping mind? It might never be revealed; Mythri's current state of sleep certainly doesn't indicate anything. No more stirring, other than a tiny bit of motion in response to the gentlest touch against her, and a flick of her ears at the soft voice. Waking? Her breathing doesn't change at all, seeming to indicate... no. Still asleep. No doubt it's because of what her body has sustained, requiring a substantial amount of rest to recover and heal. Her wounds aren't serious, but the amount of blood lost and the exertion of the terrible punishment exacted quite a toll on the young adolescent. Her head remains lolled to one side, shifting perhaps the tiniest bit as the boy presses his head against her neck. Does she notice? Is she sleeping too soundly to be awoken by anything other than the loud and forceful? Maybe she is indeed awake, and covertly observing. Waiting. Preparing. One thing's for sure. The name of 'Revan' is not being uttered anymore.
He stays where he is, pulling his muzzle away only slightly as he tilts his head to look at her face. There is that ache in his chest again when he looks at her, but he's not sure why. she's out of harm's way, and will recover though it will take her some time. Then why is he so frightened? Or, is it even fear? Cael turns back, pressing his muzzle lightly against her shoulder and nudges at her gently. Come on, wake up. It's a soft touch, hardly noticable to one who was truly caught in a deep sleep. There is a long and agonizing pause as Cael wrestles with himself, curious... frightened... brave? Foolhardy. The young male begins to groom her fur once again, delicatly avoiding the many shallow cuts in her skin, and he slowly moves from her shoulder to her side and belly, carefully walking himself backward. He pauses again, reaching her hindquarters and an ache in the pit of his stomach causes him to stop momentarily before with a quick and fearful deftness he swipes his tongue at her haunches. Cael is nothing thinking anymore, bright blue eyes taking on a different kind of sheen to them.
Were he paying absolute attention to her breathing above all else, it would quickly become quite obvious that it doesn't remain steady and easy, certainly not as he starts grooming her once more. There's still no other motion of the girl's body, no flicking open of her eyes to stare at him, no twitching of her tail, no sudden swiping of her forepaw. Nothing. Yes, her sleep is? was? indeed quite deep, and though apparently interrupted yet once more, her body did make progress toward recovery. A long ways off, to be sure, but nonetheless progress /has/ been made. The boy's tongue continues rasping against her pelt, cleaning and grooming what already has been cleaned and grooming. By him, no less. That's not to say that Mythri isn't going to spend an enormous amount of time accomplishing the same once she's up to doing so, out of principle if not absolute necessity, but such points are here and now completely irrelevant. This /boy/.. this /male/.. is grooming her, and making uncomfortably /tailward/ progress. There's a pause that seems to hang forever, as if time has slowed to a crawl, and then Mythri's entire body stiffens just a little as she feels the fur on her thigh contacted by, cleaned, and licked into place by that same raspy tongue. And still, no other real response from her. It's unbelievable. Literally. If the boy really is paying any attention at all, at least to the /rest/ of her, there's no way he could have missed the stiffening, subtle though it was. Could that have happened in her sleep? Ehhh. Could Kaya ever become a sweet and loving daughter? Exactly.
Part of him almost wants to pretend that he didn't notice, to continue what he was doing and act like he didn't know. But... he can't. Cael stops as instantly as Mythri's muscles stiffen under him, if only briefly, but it's enough for him to know that she is not as asleep as she thinks she is. Of course, wasn't he trying to wake her up, to see that she was okay? But being a male... well... and Mythri being a female. If it were any other time for her, he would not be here. He would have gone to find Kein immediately, told him of the attack, and set about looking for the attacker. Instead he stayed close, refused to leave, and has no woken her up with a very personal greeting. His gaze travels up the length of her body, falling on the slightly stiffened jaw. Words? Words don't really come to the boy, but instead as his maw parts, slack, he breathes out a strange and guttural noise of /want/ that he's never felt before. A mixture between a command and a request from her, and instantly after the first he does it again with another quick swipe at her leg, this one heavier than the first.
He looked up toward her head; did he happen to see her half-lidded eyes now staring back at him? They /could/ be wide in disbelief at the simply unthinkable situation she's in now, the simply unthinkable actions that this.. this /boy/ is doing! But her gaze is also not that of a pleased female. It's something... impossible to tell. Dangerous. Curious. Astonished. Horrified. Fascinated. Amused. Mischievous. Or, most likely, it's such a complex blend of all of those and more that she /has/ to keep her eyelids only fractionally open to hide all of that tangled emotion behind them, staring out from amber-rimmed dark depths toward the male adolescent who's made life so complicated for her ever since she came here to Amaranth. Doesn't he realize what he's /doing/?! And yet, does even Mythri? The sound.. the primal sound of desire that comes from him both excites and terrifies the girl. Her father warned her about this. Warned her about herself. And yet, she can't bring herself to say anything to stop him. Too late, regardless; he's suddenly licking at her thigh once more, and as last time, Mythri finds herself stiffening ever-so-slightly. It's still just grooming, but proximity is everything! Swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, the girl opens her maw to say... what? How dare he? Continue please? Does your father know? Why are you taking advantage of the situation? Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into? It quite simply comes down to the fact that Mythri is at a loss for words, but that is because of the root problem of not knowing what she thinks or feels right now. It's as if she's an outside observer, looking in on a situation without being allowed to comment. But that is not the warrior way. She /must/ be able to act, to respond, to deal with the situation. Cael here is not a warrior, and yet he is somehow besting her. Not that she views this as a struggle or competition or battle, but /she/ has been taken out of the picture. No. Unacceptable. A warrior is never relegated to the background. A warrior must take initiative! But what does Mythri /want/? It doesn't matter. She can figure that out later. For now, leadership must be established; not an easy task, given her present condition. One thing is a blessing in disguise; her voice, somewhat weak and cracking from lack of use and hydration, seems to have grown stronger due to the few words uttered during her earlier sleeping. The subconscious equivalent of clearing her throat, perhaps. Her tone, now, is (barely) confident, though perhaps a touch curious. "Tell me /exactly/ what you plan on doing. And why." She's no fool.
Mythri's thoughts are much more lucid than Cael's. In fact, the young male doesn't seem to be thinking about much of anything, otherwise he would not have put the two of them in the situation they now find themselves. His rather primal demand is met with calm but dangerous words from the female, and very slowly do his eyes return up the length of her still battered body to lock with hers. He releases another shuddering sigh, his breath causing ripples in her fur with the force of its release and punctuates the rough sound with another fast, heavy series of swipes from his tongue. She hasn't moved and he doesn't think to force her to do so, and Cael's progress to anywhere significant is stifled. Maybe that's best for the both of them. And for the third time the male slowly moves up the length of her body, head bent as he grooms at her fur and in his intensity begins to nip lightly at her skin where Revan's claws did not penetrate. He's quite thorough, enjoying the young female's scent as he moves back up toward her shoulder and neck, eventually slowing as he hits the warm divot behind her ear. Again that deep noise in his chest resonates through his body, and he casts a sidelong glance down the line of her face and answers only this: "No." He won't tell her something he doesn't know the answer to.
Maybe she underestimated this other adolescent. Everything in their interactions with each other seemed to suggest plenty of life, yes, but either not enough intelligence or not enough experience to prove to be a danger to her. Apparently, she wasn't thorough enough in her evaluation. Or, more likely, her own body changed everything. Revan really was correct in warning her. Suddenly feeling extremely exposed on her back, Mythri grimaces, even growling a little bit, forcing herself to roll back onto her side even as the male's tongue travels back up her body, thankfully away from.. more vulnerable regions. With one last grunt, Mythri finishes shifting over onto her side, allowing her hindquarters to close tightly together and along with her tail, conceal That Which Must Be Concealed From Boys. Her eyes narrow in response to his answer, or rather /lack/ of an answer... as well as the proximity of his muzzle in relation to hers. It's disconcerting, to say the least, but she'd rather have it /here/ than... /there/. Ahem.
Cael might be more of a danger to himself than to Mythri, but as she struggles to move and roll to her stomach, the adolescent lifts his head and straightens his posture, 'allowing' the move to occur. If he had thought about it, if he had more vested in the idea, the action, /her/, he may not have given ground. But Cael doesn't really know what's going on, and likely... neither does she. What he doesn't do is move from his stance over her, either unable or unwilling to allow himself to do so, and as she settles on her side he leans into her neck again from behind and over her shoulder, nudging behind Mythri's ear and delicately nipping at that delicate skin with his teeth. He lifts one fore paw and hooks it around her chest and shoulder, toes coming to rest against her chest and he makes as if to pull them closer. And then a glimmer flashes behind his eyes, one of thought and not raw emotion, before he whispers gruffly over her shoulder. "If you want me to leave, then tell me." It occurred to him, briefly, that for all her seemingly hostile protest she has not tried to force him to leave her be, creating a whole new set of questions for the male to consider.
"You have two choices, Cael." Intentional use of his name like that, though for reasons known only to her. "Tell me what you want from me, and why, or leave me alone so I can recover." No guarantees, of course, that she won't make him leave anyway, once her own curiosity has been satisfied, but at least that option doesn't sound so... abrupt. It has the hint of possibility, of potential, and being a male, hopefully the other adolescent will choose that option! Mythri is quite well aware, and no doubt the boy is too, that she really cannot do anything at all to stop whatever it is he wants to do to her or with her. Even barely rolling from her back over onto her side not only caused an enormous amount of pain, but it completely exhausted her, and though she is familiar enough with the effects and advantages of adrenaline to know that should the need arise, she could try and defend herself through the pain and through the weakness, it would still be more or less impossible to prevent anything from happening to her in her current state. And yet, the warrior in her is giving the ultimatum. Taking charge. Whether the male wants to accept her leadership is his decision, and, ultimately, there's nothing Mythri can do to force him. But she has to try. All of the training her father gave her is screaming at her to try. Not to give up. Not even now, with him all but closing in on her, breathing down her neck both literally and figuratively. He says that all she has to do is tell him to leave, but would he really? Or is it just his attempt to justify his own actions, pretending that Mythri actually has a say in the matter?
He would. At least, he believes he would and that's good enough. He won't really know unless she says so. He expected her to. As she speaks, voice hard, edgy, he waits for the command to leave. And he doesn't get it. As he listens, he presses the crown of his head deep into her neck and slowly, imperceptibly, his chest lowers and the creamy white fur there mingles with the tans and browns of her side. Should he answer her question, or should he just take the wiser road and leave? /This/ close to her, though, he doesn't think he could quite tear himself away. Mythri might have to fight him, with claws or words, before he could pry his mind away from... from... from /her/ enough to let her well alone. But she doesn't, and she hasn't. Cael leans forward on her, slightly, gently, muscles bunched in the effort not to crush an already battered body, but above all he desires that closeness. "I want," he begins, words faultering as he move his muzzle from along her neck, up and down in a subtle graze of a nuzzle. "I want," Cael starts again, fails again as an intense shudder ripples up his spine and causes the fur on his neck to bristle. Beside her body he flexed his paw, long black claws digging dip into the soil lest the accidentally find Mythri's skin. His eyes flash and set themselves dead on hers, open maw breathing heavily against her own as he reaches to nuzzle under her chin, to turn her face so that he can look, so that /she/ can look, and his final word is punctuated with a surprisingly gentle kiss to the underside of her chin despite the lustful demand in that last spoken moment, "//You//."
Mythri is not easily scared. But it's hard to maintain a calm demeanor when she's lying nearly-helpless while a male cougar slightly larger than her is all but smothering her from above, obviously not in complete control of himself, and now has said, just to clear any doubt or uncertainty, that he wants /her/. Unacceptable. A warrior is never to be given over to anyone else, /ever/. Never given, never taken, never possessed, never offered. She doesn't need friends. She needs allies. She doesn't need companions. She needs those she can trust to watch her back. Not those who want to get ON her back. He just kissed her? Unbelievable.
[When she asked the particular question that had been bothering her for several days, her father's reaction was.. not quite the usual. It was almost as though he had been hoping she never would ask, and yet didn't seem too surprised that she did. What followed afterward was a long and serious talk about a warrior's responsibilities and duties. For her, a female, and just a juvenile right now, she doesn't need to think or focus on the question of relationships in the slightest. Not even when she becomes an adolescent. Maybe, /maybe/ when she finally reaches the age of adult should she consider the advantages and disadvantages of procreation. Finding a mate is a necessary evil, and a task in which she should exercise the utmost caution; the male should be as strong and skilled as she, if not moreso. But as she's barely a juvenile, Revan was quick to repeat his admonition against worrying about this. Her main task now is to continue focusing on her training.]
Her voice is soft, nearly weak, but underlined by an absolute seriousness. "No." Of course not. Cael has not demonstrated anything to her, other than an occasional display of agility, that he's anything worth considering to be a mate. And they're barely even adolescents! She still has far too much in the way of training to concern herself with to even /consider/ the possibility of being a mother. Truly, unbelievable. If she wasn't so hurt right now... At least she will not have to worry about encountering her father again. She knows that although he will miss her, and she will miss him, their paths are forever separated. Mythri now has all the time in the world to devote to perfecting her skills, perfecting her body, and perfecting her mind. She /will/ achieve that status of warrior that her father always wanted for her, and now, almost certaintly, has no hope of her ever obtaining.
Mythri's response is met with a long pause from the male, ears slowly flattening against his skull and the semi-growling purr begins to die down. With an agonizing deliberatness, Cael pushes himself off her until he is standing tall again, looking down at a suddenly stern and yet apprehensive young female. Suddenly his jaw clicks shut, an attempt to curb that heavy, lustful breathing that the adolescent still isn't familiar with; he let it take him away. His head snaps to the side as he chuffs, either frustration at her answer but more likely with himself... Why would he, why could he do something like that? The young male backs away from Mythri, moving his paws to one side of her so that he is no longer standing over her, and pads a few frustrated paces away. His muscles are stiff, sore from being so tense, and with his back turned to her he barely glances across his shoulder; it's likely that Mythri would not see his face. "I'm... sorry. There's... there's something... different." And that's all he can manage, punctuating that adolescent frustration with a lash of his tail. One question runs through him; why? He doesn't question the refusal, he questions himself and that is most disturbing. He tries to leave and only manages another small step away. Mythri, and her scent, are still close behind him.
There aren't too many occurrences where time seems to slow down. And yet, as her single word of refusal seems to hang in the air, the next few seconds seem like an eternity. Mythri stares at the boy with a growing feeling of dread; he's not going to listen to her, is he? He's going to... wait... stand up? She's relaxing, not even having realized that her body had been all tensed up. Just like that, the male is going to leave her alone, and for real this time? It's almost too good to be true. Her eyes never leave him as he turns to depart, and her ears perk at the.. odd remark. Something different? What would that be? His apology may or may not be sincere. That will remain to be seen, obviously. But.. what's different? Mythri is almost tempted to ask him before he leaves, but decides that it's probably in her best interest not to do or say anything that would facilitate him staying here any longer.
Mythri, adolescent female cougar
Cael, adolescent male cougar
Warning:
The following scene has been rated PG-13 for an intense situation involving sensuality. Viewer discretion is advised.
Scene:
It took her a while to fall asleep once the other adolescent finally left her alone and departed from the immediate area. Mythri, as she obviously couldn't relocate or even shift to a more comfortable resting position, watched and waited for several long minutes afterward, suspicious of the male returning, but when it seemed that she was finally alone once more, she decided that sleep, hopefully uninterrupted, was too valuable to put off, and did her best to fall asleep as quickly as possible. By this point there's very little, if any, bleeding, although there is still significant pain. But as long as Mythri stays still, the pain is bearable. Breathing isn't excrutiating anymore, thankfully, and she has limited head and neck movement now. Her last conscious thought before drifting off into the peaceful blackness is gratitude that the boy didn't seem to be bothered all that much by her rather strong scent; his concern for her wounds alone did a lot to ease her anxiety.
How long has it been? A few hours, at most. After finding Mythri prone and obviously gashed by cougar claws, and trying his best to make her comfortable (though, in truth, Cael can't help but think he made her that much more uncomfortable), the young male fled the scene. But not entirely. In fact, leaving the female be, he began to canvas a in slow, widening spiral around her position in the forest. He picked up stray scents, old scents, but it seemed that whatever took place among those trees was something that no animal bore witness to, and if they did they've fled for safer places. He tried to pick up a trail of someone unfamiliar, but whoever attacked the cougaress did a good job of hiding themselves. They could still be nearby, and Cael's nerves grew edgier by the minute. But he found no traces of any creature, as as time passed he felt it more and more likely that this non-Amaranth cougar is nowhere nearby. At one point, he tried to bring down a fat game bird he stumbled on, but the younger hunter was not ready for the opportunity, and Mythri will go hungry for a while longer. When the sun peaked and began its decent to the other side of the mountain, Cael decided to return to the deep woods to check on the cougaress he left there. He couldn't bear himself to leave the woods to find his father, not yet, not when she is that vulnerable. If something happened to her, well, he wouldn't forgive himself... or Kein, for that matter, for insisting on a report. He catches himself before he sighs aloud, bright blue eyes peering through the undergrowth as he approaches Mythri's last known spot. A shakey breath is exhaled as he sees her, still there... still breathing, but obviously still in pain. His ears flatten slightly as he steps a few delicate paces closer, and then he stops. The scent of blood and battle is all but removed, but heavy in the air is... is... /Mythri/. The adolescent blinks, and herein lies a dilemma; turn around and leave, or satisfy that insatiable male curiosity-- or, rather, see if she's alright? Curiosity kills cats, and Cael is no exception. He steps toward her, craning his neck even as he approaches and breaths in deeply through his nose and mouth.
No doubt if Cael knew exactly what he was smelling, or more specifically /why/ he was smelling that particular scent, he'd be running for the hills. Figuratively speaking, of course. Not like he lives on top of one or anything. But would he really? He /is/ a male, after all, and there's no denying the inherent and virtually insatiable curiosity present in that particular gender. It's unfortunate for Mythri that she's asleep at present, as it might do her a little bit of good to have /some/ warning that she's currently the focus in an intense inspection and investigation. Namely, from the same boy who left not all that long ago, the one who she was finally convinced would be leaving her alone. Big mistake in /that/ assumption. It's even worse this time around, as there's no immediate sympathy or shock or even outrage to arrest his curiosity like the previous encounter, and even hour-by-hour, her scent is getting stronger. It's a mystery whether or not Revan noticed that his daughter was beginning to slide into that terrible ravine of no escape and dooooooom! Namely, her first heat.
Maybe Cael should have paid closer attention, or maybe Kein should have insisted more on his lecture, and maybe Cael should have even been a littler braver with his questions. He might have a little more to go on in this situation, and he might be wise enough to run... on the hills. He didn't, and neither did Kein. As the boy gets closer, his attention does manage to tear away from that strangely intoxicating aroma to give Mythri's body a cursory once over. She's still laying prone on the one side, so those cuts and scrapes look alright... but it's unlikely that her attacker decided to only come at her from one direction. Another breath out, strangely and surprisingly shaky, if he does think so himself, before he closes the space between them with a few more short steps. With a furrowed brow, and curiously watery eyes, Cael looks down at Mythri's sleeping form for a while, no doubt being a little creepy about it (if she were awake, of course), but that inherently male gene refuses to let go of his brain. Without really thinking bout what he's doing, he bends to investigate, tongue sticking from between his teeth to catch even more of that smell. He moves slowly from her shoulders, to her stomach... /hey/ now. He pulls his head back slightly, and licks his muzzle... nervous? He was so interested in her when she was walking away from him... Is that why? He bends again to answer that curiosity, breath puffing between his teeth... rather quickly, actually.
If she were awake, then no doubt the hills would be alive with the sound of... yelling. Lots and lots of yelling. But Mythri is still fast asleep, barely moving from where she originally crumpled onto her side. Her ribcage moves the tiniest of amounts as she breathes slow and steady, her body working hard to repair all the damage caused by her father. And once she wakes up, hopefully in several hours from now after some wonderful and uninterrupted sleep, there is a LOT of grooming and cleaning that needs to be done! Her poor fur is a /disaster/!
But, she's not awake. There is a part of him inside that is screaming at him to leave before something awful happens, the /sane/ part of him, but that wide-eyed curious look-over that Cael continues to give the female is goverend by a much more powerful voice. Cautiously, almost like approaching a cobra, he circles around Mythri and approaches her from behind, placing his forepaws on either side of her prone figure. The skin between his shoulders twitches as he leans down and delicately sniffs. He can't help but shudder then, voice suddenly low and rumbling in his chest as he takes a few quick steps over her so that his body is almost covering the female. Cael again dips his head toward her fur, his mind not really paying any attention to what he's doing; it's likely Mythri will wake up, quickly and in bad temper. The male closes his eyes, drowning in the cougaress' rich scent and feeling... something he's never quite felt before. He doesn't pinpoint it right away, but in her position, Mythri might be able to tell just what it is he's thinking.
[She knows it's going to be a long time before she's an adolescent, and manymanymanymany days until she finally reaches that goal of becoming.. a /cougaress/! An adult, just like her father! Mythri is proud, now, though, as she's finally become old enough to be called a juvenile. Still very young, but she's not just a /cub/ anymore! Beaming as Revan, her beloved father, lavishes praise on her for all the training she's completed and the exercises she's kept up with to make her body and mind strong. It's very unusual to hear such things; the normal conversations between them are serious. Punishment is not infrequent, and she really /doesn't/ like hearing his disappointed tone with her failures.]
"Father!" Mythri suddenly stirs a little, mumbling. "I'm so sor.. ry! Please.. let me have another chance!" The girl stirs a little more, grimacing even in her sleep at the pain of movement. "I won't f.. ail you again!" Tremble. More stirring, and even as the other adolescent stands above her, Mythri shifts slowly onto her back, face scrunching into a saddened grimace. And then, suddenly, it's over. Mythri goes limp, and after a few seconds, her breathing levels out again, slow and easy. Quite a contrast to the /other/ feline's breathing!
Cael jerks his muzzle away from Mythri's fur as she moves, a dumbfounded look melting across his face as he listens to her far off, distant words. He moved as if he had been struck by a paw to the face, reeling in that suddeness of her voice and of the pain that accompanied it. The male lets out a ragged breath and backpeddles once over her body to give her a bit more of some much needed space. If she were awake and not stuck in a dream world, she might just appreciate it. Cael's eyes flutter closed and he tries to calm his breathing, but with each inhail whatever drug Mythri has on her intoxicates him further. Managing to pry his eyes open again, he recovers the ground that he lost and again stands over her as she sleeps and while he is still obviously interested in exploring other avenues, what he does surprises even him. He lowers his head to press gently at the crook of her neck and shoulder, shuddering breath ghosting across her fur, "Mythri?" he stutters, chuffing at her. He'll likely get that real paw in the face, but, something /else/ is nagging at him, "You're dreaming. A nightmare. Wake up." His sentences are short, all he can manage to say, but perhaps too late he realizes it would have been a bit nicer for him not to be hovering over her, paws twitching and at the ready to grab her. The question remains, somewhere in his mind, though, /why/ would he do that when she is so obviously in pain?
Does the girl continue to dream about her father? Or was she ever dreaming in the first place? Maybe it was just a random and spontaneous subconscious memory that floated into her sleeping mind? It might never be revealed; Mythri's current state of sleep certainly doesn't indicate anything. No more stirring, other than a tiny bit of motion in response to the gentlest touch against her, and a flick of her ears at the soft voice. Waking? Her breathing doesn't change at all, seeming to indicate... no. Still asleep. No doubt it's because of what her body has sustained, requiring a substantial amount of rest to recover and heal. Her wounds aren't serious, but the amount of blood lost and the exertion of the terrible punishment exacted quite a toll on the young adolescent. Her head remains lolled to one side, shifting perhaps the tiniest bit as the boy presses his head against her neck. Does she notice? Is she sleeping too soundly to be awoken by anything other than the loud and forceful? Maybe she is indeed awake, and covertly observing. Waiting. Preparing. One thing's for sure. The name of 'Revan' is not being uttered anymore.
He stays where he is, pulling his muzzle away only slightly as he tilts his head to look at her face. There is that ache in his chest again when he looks at her, but he's not sure why. she's out of harm's way, and will recover though it will take her some time. Then why is he so frightened? Or, is it even fear? Cael turns back, pressing his muzzle lightly against her shoulder and nudges at her gently. Come on, wake up. It's a soft touch, hardly noticable to one who was truly caught in a deep sleep. There is a long and agonizing pause as Cael wrestles with himself, curious... frightened... brave? Foolhardy. The young male begins to groom her fur once again, delicatly avoiding the many shallow cuts in her skin, and he slowly moves from her shoulder to her side and belly, carefully walking himself backward. He pauses again, reaching her hindquarters and an ache in the pit of his stomach causes him to stop momentarily before with a quick and fearful deftness he swipes his tongue at her haunches. Cael is nothing thinking anymore, bright blue eyes taking on a different kind of sheen to them.
Were he paying absolute attention to her breathing above all else, it would quickly become quite obvious that it doesn't remain steady and easy, certainly not as he starts grooming her once more. There's still no other motion of the girl's body, no flicking open of her eyes to stare at him, no twitching of her tail, no sudden swiping of her forepaw. Nothing. Yes, her sleep is? was? indeed quite deep, and though apparently interrupted yet once more, her body did make progress toward recovery. A long ways off, to be sure, but nonetheless progress /has/ been made. The boy's tongue continues rasping against her pelt, cleaning and grooming what already has been cleaned and grooming. By him, no less. That's not to say that Mythri isn't going to spend an enormous amount of time accomplishing the same once she's up to doing so, out of principle if not absolute necessity, but such points are here and now completely irrelevant. This /boy/.. this /male/.. is grooming her, and making uncomfortably /tailward/ progress. There's a pause that seems to hang forever, as if time has slowed to a crawl, and then Mythri's entire body stiffens just a little as she feels the fur on her thigh contacted by, cleaned, and licked into place by that same raspy tongue. And still, no other real response from her. It's unbelievable. Literally. If the boy really is paying any attention at all, at least to the /rest/ of her, there's no way he could have missed the stiffening, subtle though it was. Could that have happened in her sleep? Ehhh. Could Kaya ever become a sweet and loving daughter? Exactly.
Part of him almost wants to pretend that he didn't notice, to continue what he was doing and act like he didn't know. But... he can't. Cael stops as instantly as Mythri's muscles stiffen under him, if only briefly, but it's enough for him to know that she is not as asleep as she thinks she is. Of course, wasn't he trying to wake her up, to see that she was okay? But being a male... well... and Mythri being a female. If it were any other time for her, he would not be here. He would have gone to find Kein immediately, told him of the attack, and set about looking for the attacker. Instead he stayed close, refused to leave, and has no woken her up with a very personal greeting. His gaze travels up the length of her body, falling on the slightly stiffened jaw. Words? Words don't really come to the boy, but instead as his maw parts, slack, he breathes out a strange and guttural noise of /want/ that he's never felt before. A mixture between a command and a request from her, and instantly after the first he does it again with another quick swipe at her leg, this one heavier than the first.
He looked up toward her head; did he happen to see her half-lidded eyes now staring back at him? They /could/ be wide in disbelief at the simply unthinkable situation she's in now, the simply unthinkable actions that this.. this /boy/ is doing! But her gaze is also not that of a pleased female. It's something... impossible to tell. Dangerous. Curious. Astonished. Horrified. Fascinated. Amused. Mischievous. Or, most likely, it's such a complex blend of all of those and more that she /has/ to keep her eyelids only fractionally open to hide all of that tangled emotion behind them, staring out from amber-rimmed dark depths toward the male adolescent who's made life so complicated for her ever since she came here to Amaranth. Doesn't he realize what he's /doing/?! And yet, does even Mythri? The sound.. the primal sound of desire that comes from him both excites and terrifies the girl. Her father warned her about this. Warned her about herself. And yet, she can't bring herself to say anything to stop him. Too late, regardless; he's suddenly licking at her thigh once more, and as last time, Mythri finds herself stiffening ever-so-slightly. It's still just grooming, but proximity is everything! Swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, the girl opens her maw to say... what? How dare he? Continue please? Does your father know? Why are you taking advantage of the situation? Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into? It quite simply comes down to the fact that Mythri is at a loss for words, but that is because of the root problem of not knowing what she thinks or feels right now. It's as if she's an outside observer, looking in on a situation without being allowed to comment. But that is not the warrior way. She /must/ be able to act, to respond, to deal with the situation. Cael here is not a warrior, and yet he is somehow besting her. Not that she views this as a struggle or competition or battle, but /she/ has been taken out of the picture. No. Unacceptable. A warrior is never relegated to the background. A warrior must take initiative! But what does Mythri /want/? It doesn't matter. She can figure that out later. For now, leadership must be established; not an easy task, given her present condition. One thing is a blessing in disguise; her voice, somewhat weak and cracking from lack of use and hydration, seems to have grown stronger due to the few words uttered during her earlier sleeping. The subconscious equivalent of clearing her throat, perhaps. Her tone, now, is (barely) confident, though perhaps a touch curious. "Tell me /exactly/ what you plan on doing. And why." She's no fool.
Mythri's thoughts are much more lucid than Cael's. In fact, the young male doesn't seem to be thinking about much of anything, otherwise he would not have put the two of them in the situation they now find themselves. His rather primal demand is met with calm but dangerous words from the female, and very slowly do his eyes return up the length of her still battered body to lock with hers. He releases another shuddering sigh, his breath causing ripples in her fur with the force of its release and punctuates the rough sound with another fast, heavy series of swipes from his tongue. She hasn't moved and he doesn't think to force her to do so, and Cael's progress to anywhere significant is stifled. Maybe that's best for the both of them. And for the third time the male slowly moves up the length of her body, head bent as he grooms at her fur and in his intensity begins to nip lightly at her skin where Revan's claws did not penetrate. He's quite thorough, enjoying the young female's scent as he moves back up toward her shoulder and neck, eventually slowing as he hits the warm divot behind her ear. Again that deep noise in his chest resonates through his body, and he casts a sidelong glance down the line of her face and answers only this: "No." He won't tell her something he doesn't know the answer to.
Maybe she underestimated this other adolescent. Everything in their interactions with each other seemed to suggest plenty of life, yes, but either not enough intelligence or not enough experience to prove to be a danger to her. Apparently, she wasn't thorough enough in her evaluation. Or, more likely, her own body changed everything. Revan really was correct in warning her. Suddenly feeling extremely exposed on her back, Mythri grimaces, even growling a little bit, forcing herself to roll back onto her side even as the male's tongue travels back up her body, thankfully away from.. more vulnerable regions. With one last grunt, Mythri finishes shifting over onto her side, allowing her hindquarters to close tightly together and along with her tail, conceal That Which Must Be Concealed From Boys. Her eyes narrow in response to his answer, or rather /lack/ of an answer... as well as the proximity of his muzzle in relation to hers. It's disconcerting, to say the least, but she'd rather have it /here/ than... /there/. Ahem.
Cael might be more of a danger to himself than to Mythri, but as she struggles to move and roll to her stomach, the adolescent lifts his head and straightens his posture, 'allowing' the move to occur. If he had thought about it, if he had more vested in the idea, the action, /her/, he may not have given ground. But Cael doesn't really know what's going on, and likely... neither does she. What he doesn't do is move from his stance over her, either unable or unwilling to allow himself to do so, and as she settles on her side he leans into her neck again from behind and over her shoulder, nudging behind Mythri's ear and delicately nipping at that delicate skin with his teeth. He lifts one fore paw and hooks it around her chest and shoulder, toes coming to rest against her chest and he makes as if to pull them closer. And then a glimmer flashes behind his eyes, one of thought and not raw emotion, before he whispers gruffly over her shoulder. "If you want me to leave, then tell me." It occurred to him, briefly, that for all her seemingly hostile protest she has not tried to force him to leave her be, creating a whole new set of questions for the male to consider.
"You have two choices, Cael." Intentional use of his name like that, though for reasons known only to her. "Tell me what you want from me, and why, or leave me alone so I can recover." No guarantees, of course, that she won't make him leave anyway, once her own curiosity has been satisfied, but at least that option doesn't sound so... abrupt. It has the hint of possibility, of potential, and being a male, hopefully the other adolescent will choose that option! Mythri is quite well aware, and no doubt the boy is too, that she really cannot do anything at all to stop whatever it is he wants to do to her or with her. Even barely rolling from her back over onto her side not only caused an enormous amount of pain, but it completely exhausted her, and though she is familiar enough with the effects and advantages of adrenaline to know that should the need arise, she could try and defend herself through the pain and through the weakness, it would still be more or less impossible to prevent anything from happening to her in her current state. And yet, the warrior in her is giving the ultimatum. Taking charge. Whether the male wants to accept her leadership is his decision, and, ultimately, there's nothing Mythri can do to force him. But she has to try. All of the training her father gave her is screaming at her to try. Not to give up. Not even now, with him all but closing in on her, breathing down her neck both literally and figuratively. He says that all she has to do is tell him to leave, but would he really? Or is it just his attempt to justify his own actions, pretending that Mythri actually has a say in the matter?
He would. At least, he believes he would and that's good enough. He won't really know unless she says so. He expected her to. As she speaks, voice hard, edgy, he waits for the command to leave. And he doesn't get it. As he listens, he presses the crown of his head deep into her neck and slowly, imperceptibly, his chest lowers and the creamy white fur there mingles with the tans and browns of her side. Should he answer her question, or should he just take the wiser road and leave? /This/ close to her, though, he doesn't think he could quite tear himself away. Mythri might have to fight him, with claws or words, before he could pry his mind away from... from... from /her/ enough to let her well alone. But she doesn't, and she hasn't. Cael leans forward on her, slightly, gently, muscles bunched in the effort not to crush an already battered body, but above all he desires that closeness. "I want," he begins, words faultering as he move his muzzle from along her neck, up and down in a subtle graze of a nuzzle. "I want," Cael starts again, fails again as an intense shudder ripples up his spine and causes the fur on his neck to bristle. Beside her body he flexed his paw, long black claws digging dip into the soil lest the accidentally find Mythri's skin. His eyes flash and set themselves dead on hers, open maw breathing heavily against her own as he reaches to nuzzle under her chin, to turn her face so that he can look, so that /she/ can look, and his final word is punctuated with a surprisingly gentle kiss to the underside of her chin despite the lustful demand in that last spoken moment, "//You//."
Mythri is not easily scared. But it's hard to maintain a calm demeanor when she's lying nearly-helpless while a male cougar slightly larger than her is all but smothering her from above, obviously not in complete control of himself, and now has said, just to clear any doubt or uncertainty, that he wants /her/. Unacceptable. A warrior is never to be given over to anyone else, /ever/. Never given, never taken, never possessed, never offered. She doesn't need friends. She needs allies. She doesn't need companions. She needs those she can trust to watch her back. Not those who want to get ON her back. He just kissed her? Unbelievable.
[When she asked the particular question that had been bothering her for several days, her father's reaction was.. not quite the usual. It was almost as though he had been hoping she never would ask, and yet didn't seem too surprised that she did. What followed afterward was a long and serious talk about a warrior's responsibilities and duties. For her, a female, and just a juvenile right now, she doesn't need to think or focus on the question of relationships in the slightest. Not even when she becomes an adolescent. Maybe, /maybe/ when she finally reaches the age of adult should she consider the advantages and disadvantages of procreation. Finding a mate is a necessary evil, and a task in which she should exercise the utmost caution; the male should be as strong and skilled as she, if not moreso. But as she's barely a juvenile, Revan was quick to repeat his admonition against worrying about this. Her main task now is to continue focusing on her training.]
Her voice is soft, nearly weak, but underlined by an absolute seriousness. "No." Of course not. Cael has not demonstrated anything to her, other than an occasional display of agility, that he's anything worth considering to be a mate. And they're barely even adolescents! She still has far too much in the way of training to concern herself with to even /consider/ the possibility of being a mother. Truly, unbelievable. If she wasn't so hurt right now... At least she will not have to worry about encountering her father again. She knows that although he will miss her, and she will miss him, their paths are forever separated. Mythri now has all the time in the world to devote to perfecting her skills, perfecting her body, and perfecting her mind. She /will/ achieve that status of warrior that her father always wanted for her, and now, almost certaintly, has no hope of her ever obtaining.
Mythri's response is met with a long pause from the male, ears slowly flattening against his skull and the semi-growling purr begins to die down. With an agonizing deliberatness, Cael pushes himself off her until he is standing tall again, looking down at a suddenly stern and yet apprehensive young female. Suddenly his jaw clicks shut, an attempt to curb that heavy, lustful breathing that the adolescent still isn't familiar with; he let it take him away. His head snaps to the side as he chuffs, either frustration at her answer but more likely with himself... Why would he, why could he do something like that? The young male backs away from Mythri, moving his paws to one side of her so that he is no longer standing over her, and pads a few frustrated paces away. His muscles are stiff, sore from being so tense, and with his back turned to her he barely glances across his shoulder; it's likely that Mythri would not see his face. "I'm... sorry. There's... there's something... different." And that's all he can manage, punctuating that adolescent frustration with a lash of his tail. One question runs through him; why? He doesn't question the refusal, he questions himself and that is most disturbing. He tries to leave and only manages another small step away. Mythri, and her scent, are still close behind him.
There aren't too many occurrences where time seems to slow down. And yet, as her single word of refusal seems to hang in the air, the next few seconds seem like an eternity. Mythri stares at the boy with a growing feeling of dread; he's not going to listen to her, is he? He's going to... wait... stand up? She's relaxing, not even having realized that her body had been all tensed up. Just like that, the male is going to leave her alone, and for real this time? It's almost too good to be true. Her eyes never leave him as he turns to depart, and her ears perk at the.. odd remark. Something different? What would that be? His apology may or may not be sincere. That will remain to be seen, obviously. But.. what's different? Mythri is almost tempted to ask him before he leaves, but decides that it's probably in her best interest not to do or say anything that would facilitate him staying here any longer.