He fights the inexplicable urge to breach the borderline and seek Gazmala out on his own. The need to see her now, to make sure that she is still alright, is overwhelming. Yet, he remains composed as his gaze searches the marshland for her familiar coat.

From the distance a dark wolf appeared, their inky coat marked by the muddy red of the age old Demon lineage. It was not until the stranger came closer that Dirge was able to identify her scent, one that also strongly permeated from the territorial line he stood behind at this moment. She was older but by no means was she an elder to him. If anything, her appearance spoke of experience, heartache, and the many types of pain that life in this world will grant you. He knows because he has experienced some of the same pain himself. His golden gaze regards her as an equal for the time being - noting the strength of her figure and the respect that her blood commands. Her approach was amicable enough, almost surprisingly so for a Demon brood, but perhaps the stereotypes were all wrong. Avery’s tone was respectful and kind, her intentions clearly on assisting him with finding whoever or whatever he was looking for.

To be honest, he wasn’t quite expecting this type of welcome. The last he had heard Iromar was not a place to be fucked with, even if you were here on good terms. But it seems that there has been a power shift and he can’t say he hates it. It’s nice to be greeted without teeth to neck for once. ”Yes… I’ve followed her tracks here but I can’t continue searching without causing a scene.. since your territory lies in my way,” he says in a rough voice as his attention briefly wanders to scan the trees once more.

A sudden movement in the dying treeline has his ears pricking to the top of his handsome head. The flash of smelted gold and black draws his gaze in wicked anticipation as his thoughts venture back to the first time he saw her. Within a moment the movement was lost among the oranges of sunset and the vibrantly decaying leaves. ”I’m looking for-” he begins to explain to Avery before cutting off as his eyes finally find and lock onto Gazmala’s own. ”Her.” His heart lurches in his chest, pounding heavily and threatening to beat right out of it. He cannot take his eyes from her. He wants to drink her in as if she were the only oasis in a dry, unforgiving desert. The need to be close to her shatters all other logical though, the desire to possess the space in which she shares with the rest of the world overtakes him. He brushes by Avery with no other thought in his twisted, damaged mind and makes a beeline for Gazmala.

His thick, freshly scarred shoulders push through the harsh underbrush that she has placed between them. And soon enough he reaches her. His gloom-ridden soul is appeased from now until forever as long as he can remain here with her. Dirge does not try to fight the urge any longer and has become lost in the inexplicable feeling of their connection. But despite the power behind this new, instinctive feeling, there is the possibility of rejection. He had vanished so soon after their bond was established. No matter the reason he had for doing so, she may not forgive him. Maybe she’s already moved on. All he cares for right now is relishing in this feeling once more as it all comes rushing back to him.

Avery is nothing more than a lost thought in the back of his mind at this point; though he can always apologize for his uncouth behavior later. His eyes are trained on Gazmala’s for what seems like an eternity before he attempts to slowly touch the tip of his nose down to her own. She does not seem so pleased to see him, with her toothy disdain obvious, but he doesn’t care. She is the hellfire that lights up his dark soul; she has given him new life in a way he never could have seen for himself before. He needs to know that nothing has changed between the two of them.