It's deep evening, judging by the last streaks of purple fading over the treeline and the midnight blue creeping in over the trees and grass. Roseate returns with the warmer weather chasing in over the landscape. The cold had never been ideal for him; he had abandoned when the first signs of frost chased in. It's dry and windless as he approaches the still-surfaced watering hole, chorused by crickets and frogs greeting the warming shift of weather. Maybe a swim would be refreshing, after such a journey. He was so itching to work the grime out of his disheveled pelt.

"Why don't you jump in?" comes Fallon's crooning words as she stands a little way away from the peachy behind of the stranger. The Salem yearling lives here now - calls this watering hole her water fountain and frequents it often. She is feeling much better since her long journey to these lands, though her stomach still rumbles with hunger from time to time. It's late evening when Fallon returns back to her makeshift den, contemplating one last drink before bedtime. It is then that she stumbles across unexpected company, eyeing off the water and filling the area with his pungent stink. She didn't fancy a drink after he enters the waters - that might near be the death of her. @Roseate

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There's a voice from the gloom. Roseate is reminded how populated the valley and hills here seemed to be. It was lucky he wasn't the reclusive, introverted sort because he was sure the consistent company would drive him off the rails. He was a habitual rogue, sure, but he was certainly not antisocial.

"It's probably cold." he draws quick with a lift of his blush-toned muzzle. "Plus if that wind comes back, tch," he thoughtfully works his claws against the sand of the bank, "It'll be freezing if my fur's wet."

So the choice was being cold or clean, or dry and travel-grimy. Honestly, vanity was close to tipping the scales of victory.

@Fallon

Straight off the bat, the stranger begins to spout off a lot of reasons as to why jumping into the water was not a good idea. Fallon slowly eases to sit on lithe haunches, a brown quirking as he continued to describe how cold that water might be. Her expression is entirely unsympathetic and perhaps unimpressed: "Sounds to me like some weak excuses," she speaks with judgement thick in her voice. She hoped that the water was cold so that it might test the male's nerve. Silently she waits to find out how the peachy figure might feel about her brazen assessment of his mindset.

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Oh, this kid had an attitude. Roseate pauses in his assessment, blinking his suprise with lips a small breadth parted. "No, you asked me a question." he corrects with an entertained arch of one russet brow. "And I don't want to freeze to death. Not just yet." He didn't have much meat on his bones after his years as a rogue, and it would be impossible to get dry at this time of night.

"I bet you have a cozy pride to waltz on back to eh?" he blindly guesses. He couldn't tell if her motivation here was youthful ignorance or something more mischevious- or even malicious.

"More excuses," she interjects as he begins to argue semantics, her tone laced with a tinge of boredom as if his excuses were uninteresting to her. And truly, they were. Fallon Salem wasn't all too sure what she was getting herself into - he was much older than herself and she wasn't certain if she might be prepared to take on how he may respond to further provocation. To be fair, if it wasn't her intention to provoke the peachy male, Fallon might agree with him that jumping into freezing water in this climate was certainly a terrible idea. His next assumption draws a small scoff from the grey figurine who can't help but roll her pink eyes in his direction, "why? do i seem entitled and well fed to you?" to be fair, fallon was on the thinner side, ribs protruding through her hide and her face jaunt - travelling alone had taken its toll and perhaps having a pride might not be the worst idea.

table by ferus

Roseate was being delievered the bitter taste of his own medicine. These were antics he employed with great satisfaction to many an unfortunate too-big-for-their-boots wanderer. He was falling for it too; but it wasn't too late to avoid making an embarassmet of himself as a kid spoke circles around him with her blunt commentary.

"Just entitled." he remarks. "Unless you're just trying a really roundabout way of telling me I stink." now his disgruntled purse of lips is teasing into a smile. "Because I know I do. I don't slog through wet forest for weeks and come out the other end like a daisy." Oh, if only. He was at great odds with his dishieveled appearance right now. His mane hung at a sad, matted droop.

Fallon wouldn't admit it but she rather enjoyed their banter - it kept her from thinking about how hungry she was. The only thing she had been able to catch alone were some field rats and they were hardly filling nor nutritious. He indulges her with some information about his life and his travels, the Salem yearling knowing his pain all too well. Indeed, she herself had arrived right here by this water to wash off the grime that had caked upon her hide after months of travel. "I'm glad you can be honest with yourself about one thing," she responds, wrinkling her nose as the multitude of different scents emanating from the male becomes all too clear. "where did you come from anyway?" she asks absent-mindedly, almost disinterested.

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"I'm all too aware." he laments with a morose swing to his smooth voice. His appearance was usually one of his greatest sources of pride. What was he without it? A sharp-tongued homeless creature with a good singing voice. That was all. It was hard to be a dashing rogue without the dashing part.

"I assume you mean.. recently?" he clarifies, all to happy to produce forth the ballad tale of his origins. He'd spent a lot of time on it. If she wanted to hear it he would regale her with the story- but he suspected it was not the case. "I went south-east when the snow came in," he shared, "There's more temperate lands thatway. It's warmer, just rainy." Not ideal. But not freezing his balls off cold. "You from around here, then?"

"A bath might help," Fallon circles back, motioning towards the water with her head. She assumes that the reason he had been staring at the water in the first place was because he couldn't decide if it was worth jumping in to return his hair to its former glory. He explains that he went in search of nicer weather and Fallon gives a small snort, a mischievous smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Migrating like prey animal - nice." She nods at his follow-up question however, "Just arrived - it's been interesting." Since her arrival, she had already seen a challenge for a pride and a little skirmish immediately following. Things were certainly intense in these parts and the Salem yearling did not mind in the slightest. @Roseate

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