truth is beautiful without doubt; but so are lies (ralph waldo emerson)
The warm weather had a way of working people up into a frenzy of excitement. Life sped onward at an alarming rate and Enderly had watched closely to make sure the sides of his mate never swelled this last winter with a sort of relief that was almost comical. To have to share her with children already would be a slap in his face for Enderly was a possessive creature, much prone to slinking up to her and seducing her into times of passion, and she was a goddess of passion. Oh, she had her moments when both their ears would flash back and eyes would clash with a silent warning to the other that things could escalate if they let it, but Enderly knew when to press and when to recede. He was her mate, after all, and it wasn't like she was leaving him or vica versa.
They roamed often, splitting up at times as one circled around in the opposite direction, but they were never more than a call apart. It was the way with mates, he thinks. Who needed imprints for they were hardly reliable. Speaking of imprints. On this day he had been wandering the very cusp of Mecor Valley with silver eyes watching the dotted figures of wolves thoughtfully below as the mingled before his gaze had, miraculously, turned towards the close border of Spirane. It was in that moment, that single blessed moment, that he had spied the large white brute practically vibrating with restrained energy before giving in to the instinct to skulk and over the border he had gone. Now Enderly was
quite certain Eric did not belong there - who behaved like that if they did?
On another day he might have struck out at a creep after the male but he was patient today, lowering his silken haunches to the earth with an impassive expression while time passed. It wasn't much longer before he saw the male bolt from the borders with a decidedly angry visage and he wonders just what he was doing sneaking into the mountain pack. A spy maybe? Enderly has never been one to restrain his need to weasel out secrets. This seemed such an obvious one that he immediately followed at a distance, slim figure moving with a natural grace until he circles around the valley and heads into the woodland.
Enderly proceeds to stop at the treeline as the other male breaks from it and heads into Asteraia and for a time he just sits wondering. It isn't like
he is about to tread into a domain of wolf-hungry creatures. Enderly is vain and wily but he isn't stupid and he might just be considered a coward. Either way it seems fate is on his side today for from the plains comes a beautiful white figure with a streak of red marring her face. Of course he watches her with veiled eyes, appreciating her beauty for Enderly admires all beautiful things, though his mate above all else.
It is only as she too enters the woods that he moves once more until he can catch her scent and the moment he does he recognizes that of another clinging thick to it. The white male. So, the white male was her mate? Well, maybe he can weasel information out of her, and so he moves to a trot to catch up with her although he spreads out to the right so that when he finally moves astride to steps he is a black shadow amongst the woodlands.
"Lovely lady of Asteraia. Do the plains not suit your taste? They are far too open for me and yet, the mountains, they block out the sun. Maybe that is why your mate has visited them today? To get out of the sunshine, I wonder?"
His voice snakes out silky and smooth, charming as always as he watches her with a slant of sunshine marking the silver hairs on his maw and scattered through his tail. Enderly, in truth, is a handsome fellow. Small, maybe, but built with a corded strength and sleek body that looked good beneath his shining obsidian fur and cloaked in his smooth attitude.