He is on her mind a lot, Fallon has come to realise. She wants to know more, learn more and do more -- the mere realisation of her train of thought thrilling her. Fate would have it that she continued to find out more about @Violarum even if he had not intended to do so.

In having observed him challenge for Andal Oasis, Fallon had discovered that he was an ambitious individual -- he sought power and possession. And though the older High Sovereign of the Oasis had come out on top, the Salem woman could only admire Violarum for his devil may care attempt.

Following on from the challenge, Fallon purposefully lurks close to Ecrosia. Was it childish of her to loiter in the hopes of bumping into him? Yes. Would she make up an excuse as to why she was loitering in the surrounding Jungle? Also yes.

Violarum hadn't appeared too distraught after the dust had settled but Fallon wished to check in with him, to see him again so that she may continue to unravel him piece by piece. Lithe woman picks her way carefully through the thick foliage, pausing by the tangled gnarled roots of a large tree, gazing up at the canopy with mild curiosity.

Violarum Frei

There should have been a lot on his mind. Loss, perhaps, pain. The way Gunnhildr approached him at the challenge, or the way @Fallon chose not to. Yet Violarum does not much like thinking. In fact, he is rather good at being quiet of mind. Since their meeting however, there is a frequency in which she wriggles into his brain - sometimes, even bringing with her memory a sleepy smile.

Had Violarum known where to look for the grey lioness, he would have been far less subtle than she. Perhaps even barged his way into wherever she lived and made sure there were no men with wider shoulders or silkier jewels. He cannot know it, but had he seen her with several males, he would have been awfully jealous.

"Fallon?" he calls into the jungle, unreserved. He had smelt her some time ago, and had been barging his way clumsily through undergrowth ever since; creating quite the ruckus. Blood crusted drying wounds and a limp typically marred his stride, but in that moment he has forgotten his ailments. All he knew was that he needed to see her again.

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She had wanted to approach him after he had disengaged with the Andal High Sovereign, she truly had. But Fallon had seen the crowd and had figured that she might be unwanted company. It is a strange place to be -- not knowing where she stood with someone she hoped to appease. As uncertain as it was, Fallon supposed that she would not want it any other way, enjoying the thrill of each encounter with @Violarum.

Without warning, she hears her name on the wind, spoken by the very man she sought to find. She moves quickly in the direction of his voice and appears from beyond thick foliage, taking pause as she soaks in the view of Violarum and his battle wounds. He is rugged and a sight to behold.

"Vio," she greets him, warmth in her voice -- drawn from the familiarity that they now shared with one another. She closes the distance between them quickly, eagerly -- Salem figurine attempting to butt the crown of her head against the underside of Violarum's chin. "How are you feeling?" she asks, scouring over his figure with her bright fuchsia gaze to assess his wounds.

Violarum Frei

The sound of movement beyond his call is enough to excite, sensing the approach of her existence with eagerness. He stomps about a bit more, as if to ensure she knew where to find him, but it is soon that her form appears from the cover of dense foliage. He knows why @Fallon pauses, or he at least assumes to, making sure to puff himself up a bit for her eyes.

"Stronger," he answers, he certainly could not look it - far from his usual health. Yet, he had learnt enough, and trained his body to withstand more. Despite treatment from Brynja, the wound across his shoulders is still blatantly apparent; raw and encrusted with bodily fluids as it attempted to heal.

He leans into her head-butt with a purr of pleasure, trying to extend the greeting and drag his throat down her nape before she shifted to assess him. Then, he decides he has given her something again, and perhaps initiated their usual games. Crimson gaze wanders from the feminine sculpture of her face, tracing her ribs to peer quietly at her butt. "Soft?" it certainly was pretty, a paw raised to point at her backside in wait.

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She cannot help but smile as he fills his chest with air, standing as majestically as he can against the thick foliage of the Jungle. She would take the time to oggle, unashamed to do so and not because @Violarum had done the same to her many times before. Though she had always considered a rather attractive male, this had all been amplified by his show at The Pit.

His head and mane drapes across her neck, Fallon arching upwards into his touch -- willing for it to linger that much longer as she stands in his masculine glow. "You never told me you were a good fighter," the Salem figurine murmurs in reply as Violarum deems himself to be stronger. And stronger he would be -- she was certain that he had gained much experience and knowledge in his defeat.

But he has not forgotten about her figure, motioning towards her behind and asking if it was soft. Fallon supposed that she did not know. "Only one way to find out," the grey woman asserts, motioning towards her rump with her brows and eyes, beckoning Violarum closer so that he may assess the booty himself.

Violarum Frei

He can hardly believe that he had yet to boast of his fighting abilities, given it was usually the first thing he flaunted in front of... anybody. "I win lots," he feels the need to assure her with a singular nod, as if worried she might consider him weak after witnessing his loss to the desert leader.

Despite his ego when it came to battle, he was in some ways more humble about it than some. He knew he was good at it, but he knew he couldn't always be the best. There was time for him to grow, and there would be more pride challenges in which he could learn. What else was to be done with ones life, if not to beat and be beaten? Was there not a reason men wore manes to protect their necks?

She invites him in once again, and Violarum is perked up like a puppy. For all his masculine glory, wounded and bloodied and looking as any good man should, he really could become so effortlessly innocent with wonder. He inches slowly closer, taking a healthy few moments to wander his eyes from hips to thigh. Pretty.

First, he seeks to slide a paw (muddied, mind you) down her thigh - rougher than intended. His eyes widen happily, a brief glance at @Fallon 's face, then back again. Apparently so pleased with her delightfully soft backside, the clay male will try to rub his face all over it. Not gingerly, but as if it were his most favorite pillow. "Soft," he would confirm, becoming rather carried away and trying to hook a forepaw in behind her lower thigh for maximum snuggles.

Then suddenly realizing how soft it was in there too!

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She's not surprised to hear that he wins many of his battles -- Violarum had proven himself to be an admirable opponent to someone much older and with far more experience that he. "Well, you've never beaten me," Fallon proposes with a roguish smirk, tail lashing at her ankles at the thought of engaging in a wrestle with the Ecrosia Gentry, though in light of his wounds, she figured that it wouldn't be the best time. Next time.

He goes from sombre to openly pleased, like a child who has just been given permission to do the very thing they had been forbidden to do their whole childhood. Excited but filled with trepidation -- Fallon too, finds herself curious to see what he might do and what @Violarum might say about her rump. Personally, she thought herself well defined and muscled but he may feel differently.

Fallon jumps as the tawny male strokes her thigh with a large paw, not having expected the touch -- however crude the gesture. Where his skin brushed against hers, fireworks. Swallowing and meeting his look of exhilaration with an encouraging motioning with her brows. But instead of being delicate about the whole thing, Violarum plunges his face into her behind, grabbing hold of her leg and burrowing right in, making himself at home.

Small giggle leaves her lips, embarrassed to admit that she rather enjoyed this attention -- however unorthodox. "Is it the best one you've ever touched?" Fallon asks, eager to hear how she ranked against other booties that Violarum had touched. Tail tuft swings and dotingly lashes against his cheek, flirtatious in the way she glanced over lean shoulder to observe his every move.

Violarum Frei

Her observation that she'd never been beaten almost seemed an invitation. In any other moment, he surely would have been sparked into a rough-house play. For the very few things he knew of @Fallon, it was certainly not that she was delicate. If anything, she seemed to thrive amidst the chance to show off her physical prowess. He liked that.

He does not rush this delightful experience; wholly content to leave his face smooshed against her rump forever, enjoying the firm plushness beneath his cheek. He inhales, deeply, unwilling to depart with her scent, "You smell good." Twice now he had met her with a lack of mud-crust, and her aroma was becoming increasingly warm and familiar.

With a dirty paw upon her thigh he squeezed her towards his face for another moment, before realising he probably needed to contain himself, at least enough to answer her. "Yes," he admits instantaneously, before withdrawing from the butt-hug. He stares at it a bit longer.

"I haven't really touched many butts," Violarum offers thoughtfully, wondering if it really counted if you didn't get to poke and prod and bury your face. He supposed Gunnhildr had fabulous thighs, and though they might have slept together he hadn't really got to squish at them -- he interrupts his own thoughts, not wanting to think too hard about anybody else in this moment.

"Have you touched many... silky, saggy bits?" well now things were getting interesting. Finally, scarlet vision seeks her face; so perfectly poised ahead of her lithe shoulder. Where was one meant to look? Everywhere was too damn good.

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"Describe it," she encourages @Violarum as he speaks of her scent, unsure what she might smell like to anyone that wasn't herself. Fallon's focus when it came to scent was to eliminate it -- to hide and obscure so that she would remain undetected, going everywhere that she pleased at any time. Almost reluctantly, the tawny male released his hold on her thigh to allow the Salem figurine to turn so that they now faced one another.

She does not announce that it is now her turn to touch and she advances, bright pink gaze eyeing what part of Violarum she wished to investigate. Carefully, and not without brushing her shoulder against his sides, Fallon circles about Violarum's rugged figure, simply enjoying their closeness for the time being. He declares her booty the best that he's ever touched though he qualifies this by declaring his inexperience.

He admits that he is inexperienced when it comes to touching rumps and Fallon is surprised to find that she inwardly glad for it. She had no right to be possessive or jealous but Fallon Salem was a selfish being at heart. Fallon takes pause on Violarum's right side, lowering to sit on lean haunches as she puts a forelimb forward to run her paw on his underbelly.

"A couple," this was a lie, "but yours are the silkiest." Small paw traces from the underside of Violarum's chest, enjoying the sensation of burrowing amongst his long mane. Then and agonisingly slowly, Fallon traces down, claws gently released from their pockets as she drags them through his fur, all the way down towards his crown jewels in question though Fallon does not quite get there.

Instead, Fallon too wraps paw around his thigh and burrows her face into his rump as he had done before -- wanting to see what this was all about. And near instantly, she understands, pushing plump cheek against his behind and feeling comforted. "Muscular," she adds, having long been impressed with his physique.

Violarum Frei

He ponders the delight of her smell for a while, and as much as he'd quite like to say she smelt like Fallon, he supposes that won't do much to satisfy. So, as the pair part and she begins her exciting traipse around his body, Violarum snuffs at her aura in thought. "Leaflitter, pine, protea's and... home," maybe a little bit of ovaries too, but that was a given.

She sits by him, and crimson lanterns watch eagerly, admiring the effortlessness of her poise - the way it somehow managed to be feminine without being delicate. There is no flinch at her touch, but his abdomen tightens, flexing his rock-hard abs for her pleasure. He can do little to stem the happy purr of his breast as she touches him.

A quiet, subtle smile pinches at golden lip-corners upon her words. He had never thought he would aspire to have a silky scrotum, yet here they were. Here they were. He thinks about it a moment, how much he liked to be with @Fallon. Though, it was not in the same way he had desired Gunn, for the sake of having her, keeping her. If anything, Gunnhildr claimed she needed to be bought with power. That was fine - Violarum always aspired to be a King with a plentiful harem of women. Yet, he seems to have forgotten such prior aspirations in recent weeks.

Suddenly the grey lioness is returning his overzealous butt-hugging gesture, and Vio is immediately elated, letting her stay there a moment before trying to swing around (however gingerly given his bruises) and bat a paw playfully at her head; his throat drumming with a mischievous growl. Then, he thuds down against the leaf-littered loam, not gently enough, sprawling on his side and looking up at the woman expectantly. Maybe she'd sit on him again, or play, or snuggle or just be.

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