Suddenly, @Fernweh shirks at his suggestion, and András wonders if he had perhaps misunderstood her, if he had not seen the deeper meaning behind her words. His ears fall back slightly, but he does not chase it, content to leave it be where she'd so graciously not implored him of his own troubles moments earlier. It was easier now to forget all of his conflicting thoughts in the midst of such a deep conversation, affording him the surrender of that distraction and keeping his racing heat steady. However, her playful attention is soon recaptured, and when she reaches forward to jab him, András makes a complete show of it. He gasps, rolling over onto his back, cradling his injured arm against his chest as he gasps overdramatically. Oof! he cried out, glancing toward her, as if attempting to seek some sort of reaction.

He wasn't sure what type of reaction he was hoping to get from her, but her playful banter back toward him delighted him, in a way. András suddenly felt as if he were a young boy again, content to relinquish his worries of the world and forget all the politicking and warfare he'd been dragged into since he'd first happen upon the Rike those many years ago. For that brief inkling of a moment, he wondered, perhaps it were not all guilt he'd felt; perhaps it were freedom, too. Oh, streifen, you've wounded me.

Art by Kite, table by cala

andras' reaction is a welcoming surprise. firstly, it shows fernweh that he's not always the steely-eyed man she thinks he is, and lastly, it may mean he's beginning to trust her more. while the question of whether or not she trusts him still lingers in the air, fernweh still cannot help but react to the man's antics, as if she has known him for a long time.

say the magic word and maybe i'll be nice fernweh said as she rises onto her haunches, giggling. her tail flicks with each beat of her heart as she gazes down at him. it's been far too long since she's been with someone who's showing their playful side. longer still for her own playfulness to show to anyone who's not a child. but, of course, @András is no cub, and nor is he a close family member. seeing him, with his belly facing the air, reminds her of a moment in her youth. someone did the same to her back then, and she pounced on top of them. rather than do that, fernweh simply hovers over andras, watching him for a moment, with a grin on her face.

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He is suddenly keenly aware that she is hovering over him, but not too close. Though their time together had eased him (and, truly, @Fernweh had far more to fear of the brutal and unrelenting András than he of her, though the fear may have been reversed had they known who they truly were). Instead, he is completely at ease, content to take up the sight of her as he continues to play dramatics. His lips press together, eyebrows furrowing, as if he truly were pained by her advances and that he genuinely were begging for mercy. It is only the playful glint in his fiery eyes that gives it all away.

Magic word? he implores her, flabbergasted that she demand such a thing from him. How about...gotcha! She is just close enough that he may attempt to suddenly reach out his once-'injured' limb, hoping to lurch forward and hook it around the back of her neck, trying to drag her closer toward him and pull her into a sort of awkward embrace. At the very least, to hold her hostage, as playfully and gently as one could. He was certain his word would not be the correct one, not that it mattered. András rather liked to play rough.

Art by Kite, table by cala

the youthful part of her eggs her own, keeping her rooted there despite the strange and somewhat awkward predicament they're in. yet, fernweh feels no more embarrassed than her companion is, despite their close proximity to a pride - her pride nonetheless - and the fact that anyone can stumble across them. she's more bothered by the fact that she's not a cub anymore because then she and andras could do so much more and get away with it. before she can say something, andras grabs her, pulling him on top.

he's warm underneath, much softer than she thinks, and bigger than he looks when standing. she squirms for a moment, mouth curling into a half-smirk, hoping to get away, but then she pauses and looks down at him. that's not how you treat your nurse fernweh said, clicking her tongue. her front paws are, luckily, free, as she places them on either side of the male's head. her back end can push out from him, but the warmth is nice. though her layers of fur are sufficient enough, the sensation exuding from @András feels much different. it's almost comfortable like she'll never want to reject being embraced by anyone again.

maybe i should squish you now she said, voice wicked and playful in its intention, as she attempts to push her lower body on top of him. compared to the male, she's lighter, but there's enough of her to keep him still for a few seconds. her tail flicks more aggressively, blood pumping inside her as excitement bubbles within._{BG — ART — CODE}

To his surprise, she not only accepts his playful advance, but relaxes into it. András suddenly thinks nothing more of their frisky interaction, allowing their positions to come together and slip into the close-quartered tumble they were in now. His breath is warm against her, and hers against him. She suddenly feels much smaller, despite their similar sizes (perhaps more of her length comes from her long legs, he wonders cheekily), and he revels in simply how soft she is; despite the encroaching spring, she is still sprouting an impeccably soft winter coat. Perhaps the mountains did some good, after all. That's not how you treat your nurse, she chides, and he feels as her paws slip between either side of his face, tangling in the long pale tendrils of his mane. My nurse? he smirks, All mine?

Suddenly, he is keenly aware that her hinds are moving, shifting. He feels her hips lower unto him, and he inhales a sharp breath, his playfulness suddenly drawn away at the intense feeling of her heat, her touch. A shaky breath finally exhales after that long silence, a nervous suspire that fades into the coldness just beyond them. Suddenly, he can no longer ignore the fervent heat, and while his paw is still reached up around her neck, he attempts to pull down upon it, hoping to draw her face closer to his. He does not fear what he thought he would see—he does not see Magdalene in her face. All he sees is @Fernweh. Perhaps you are not a monster after all. Gods— he says, attempting to jab back at her smart reply. András had never believed in any Gods. You're beautiful. And should she allow him to pull her so close, he is almost certain he wants to press his lips against hers.

Art by Kite, table by cala

something heavy simmers inside fernweh's stomach, a feeling both familiar and different. she still recalls the first time it happened, with harou of all, the only man who has ever touched her in a way that makes her feel on fire. and, yet, it's andras' words that make her feel this way. she has always thought about being in love, being romanced and seduced in a way that makes her feel warm and soft. but, fernweh also relishes in the feeling of just wanting, because that's all she's ever known. perhaps she's ruined herself for it, or she's just like that, and yet she's still here, not because she's forced to, but because she wants to be here. if you treat me right she said, voice lower, and not without the previous teasing touch that's so effortlessly given now.

their faces inch closer, puffs of breath intermingling with one another. fernweh can truly smell him, the entirety of him. and she can taste him, the real him, in the flesh, if she wants to. instinctively, she allows her body to press closer, chest now fully touching @András'. he calls her pretty, she just realizes. warmth dusts fernweh's cheeks and, inwardly, she's smiling. i..i never heard anyone call me that fernweh said, mouth parting a little.

you're handsome is what fernweh wants to tell andras next. and yet, she cannot. while a small voice of reason is still calling out for her, fernweh still dips her head down and presses her muzzle against andras. but she quickly draws back, ears flattening against her skull. sorry, i didn't know why i did that her voice was breathless as she spoke, eyes swimming with too many emotions right now for her to justify anything._{BG — ART — CODE}

Had András been a kinder and smarter man, he would have known to stop. @Fernweh had given him little indication of her feelings. Beyond their gentle musings and playful banter he'd know true idea of her intentions, beyond her outward desire to grow, to train, to learn. He'd been content to leave that where it was, but he were a Rike brute after all, and had quickly taken a liking toward she who challenged everything he'd once known to be fact. The women in his family had proven time and again that they can be warriors, fettered to heel only by the strongest, those who'd earned their respect. But there was something different yet still, far unlike everything he'd ever known, and he was delighted to see if it could change his beliefs of it all.

I'd cherish you forever, he breathes, his eyes narrowing as he gazed into the deep lavender-green of her own. She does not move away as he descends, instead reciprocating, even in that brief moment, his advances. András feels his eyes begin to close, reveling in the warmth of her breath and the soft of her touch. I...I never heard anyone call me that, she whispers, and he pauses for just a moment, wanting desperately to tell her I'll tell you that over and over and over again. Instead, he lets their silence linger, and enjoy the moment for however fleeting it is. She gives only a breath, and when she pulls away, reality does not quite hit András in the way it should have. It does not come to his rescue.

It is enough to show him a glimpse of reality if only for a moment. She is still close enough that he is enveloped in her, the moment still lingering enough to make him crave more of it. You don't need to be sorry, he whispers, and it takes everything in his being not to try and pull her back in again. He fears, perhaps, that she may break under the weight of his demands. He knows he cannot treat her as he may have; he wants to earn her. Thus, he remains still; there for her, if she wants more, but leaving his paw loose, in case she needed to flee.

I want you.

Art by Kite, table by cala

i'd cherish you forever. these words make fernweh's heart soften, but it also makes her break. she's not sure if she can do the same for andras, if she's to accept his feelings for her. their moments together have been short, but there's enough in them for her to feel like they could be something. at the same time, she's unsure of where he stands, if he truly could be someone she can trust. and until this moment, fernweh has been questioning it, but now she wants to believe she can, only then they can be so much more than just two lions whose paths converged.

nonetheless, her lips quirk up, a soft smile replacing the smirk she has on before. okay she said, finality in her voice can i trust you to do that forever? she doesn't want to sound selfish, but she wants a promise so she can at least feel less uncertain for whatever future awaits. if i want you, and you want me, then that means i don't have to hide anything, you don't have to hide anything, and we will be together, right? in a way, fernweh still feels naive, and childish. she knows nothing of love, despite this already budding thing that's inside her right now. but she knows hurt from loss, hurt from abandonment made eons ago. fernweh doesn't think she can suffer another departure anymore._{BG — ART — CODE}

He isn't sure what he thinks in that moment. He wants in the way a man wants, desires her in a way that's simple, animalistic. It is no lie that András is a Rike man, built the way they all were, wanting for nothing and taking what he desired without strings attached. And yet, there is something uniquely soft about her, something gentle that, should he be too harsh, to rough with her, he may break it. He almost would have hoped she'd wanted him in the same way; in that fleeting moment, in that wanton and fervent heat. How simple would it be to lose themselves in each other and awake the next morning just as they were before all of this. Uncomplicated, untainted by selfish wants.

To his surprise, she turns it in a way he had completely unanticipated. He is suddenly all too aware of how naïve she may be, how innocent of his intentions she is. He does not want to hurt her, or take her, but he fears he may want something he cannot rightfully feel deserving of.

I... he stammers, swallowing hard. You could have her, András, he chides himself, content to revel in the idea of her being his, of offering her a love she wants, one she deserves. But the promise of it all makes him feel sick, too; had he not wanted her moments ago in another way, in a temporary way? Did you not just say you'd cherish her forever? he suddenly seethes, gritting his teeth. Or were those pretty words to get her to open her legs for you? He pauses, knowing all too well the longer he let the silence drawl on, the crueler he was to her; and yet, the sprawl of emotions across his façade betrays her normally-steeled and stoic expression.

He thinks of everything and nothing all at once, and the fire that once blazed as a fervent want was now suddenly chilled, ice-cold.

Is that what you want? he asks her, finally. She tells him she wants neither of them to hide anything any longer, and András resolves to imploring that honesty. Suddenly, his gaze softens, and he moves his paw from her neck, seeking to instead find the comfort of her cheek. You don't...have to commit to anything if you don't want to, @Fernweh, he relents, his brows knitting, This can just be a moment, something you don't have to give yourself for. Tomorrow we can simply...go back to what we were before now, if you would prefer that. He'd no intentions of taking her to wife, at least; the thought felt almost cruel to think of, when he'd little idea that's what she had wanted before. He had considered his fervent passion to be nothing more than a fancy, a want, a need. He had been a fool to not think she could perhaps feel differently.

To want her in such a way so soon after his wife's passing felt cruel, too. He had only just gotten over the idea of craving another woman's company. To seek more than that...he needed more time, surely? Would Magdalene not be rolling in her grave?

Art by Kite, table by cala

in a way, fernweh realizes that this abrupt change isn't unusual. she's still too fresh and new to the ways of intimacy and love, a blank page yet to be written with experience. she cannot blame andrás nor herself, but she wonders if her hesitancy is becoming its own burden. if she had just allowed him to do her as he pleased, then perhaps everything would be easier to stomach. andrás is a decent man, fernweh thinks, but there's a terrible weight on him that he may possibly never tell her about. would allowing this temporary moment of love cure him?

of course it wouldn't, foolish girl, she could never replace what he have lost. for a moment, fernweh does think about leaving. but the heat between them feels so sacred, so powerful, that she's inclined to stay here. fernweh can cry and sulk in the lonely corner of her den, but she needs to look strong and steel herself in the eyes of the public. she gently shushes him, drawing one paw towards andrás' cheek, cupping it. it's alright she said, closing her eyes — her words were to comfort both him and her. i'm...sorry, i lack experience in these sort of things but...i do want to spend now with you, if it's alright. fernweh pauses, allowing what she said to sink in, reopening her eyes so she can gauge @András' expression for something, positive or negative. you're the first man i feel that i can be open to, even if i don't truly know you enough.

she allows her body to relax, malleable, so that whatever comes next will be easier. if he doesn't want to continue, then it's fine. fernweh will still speak and banter with him the next time they meet. and if he wants to continue, then so be it, because this time, she's giving half of her heart to him._{BG — ART — CODE}