With the night came rolling thunder, vibrating the Earth and shaking the world around him. The Grove was a solemn, comforting place and he was in desperate need of such. Raindrops trickled between the heavy canopy of the trees. Alexander's upturned face marveled at the sights above. A pitch black sky, yet when the lightning struck it came alive and forked across the sky threateningly. It touched down nearby, causing his body to tense and the hair along his spine rise. The beast knew he should find shelter soon, but he felt safe - here amongst the trees, where his heart did not ache quite as much.

@Hazel

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There’s a cold sort of bravery that comes with not caring. Hazel does not flinch from the storm, or the lightning that threatens to strike her if she gets too bold. The grove has become her haunt simply because it offers the best place to grow a new stock of plants and herbs. It is all she has left, her gardens, so pure stubbornness drives her to make them again and again, determined to leave something lasting on this unforgiving earth. Because the gods know she has given more than her fair share.

Lightning cracks across the sky, striking the earth and snapping Hazel from her thoughts. Her fur fluffs up, and she shivers. Her gaze flicks instinctively around, finding a hulking shape loitering under a tree nearby, and she rolls her eyes. Honestly, everyone in this place must have a death wish.

"You should leave," she advises the stranger, uncaring that he likely didn’t want to be interrupted with his oafish head pointed up toward the sky like some mesmerised turkey. Not heeding her own advice, Hazel returns to collecting plants to re-plant in her garden, ignoring the man completely.

@Alexander ♔

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As another streak of lightning paints the sky with a sickening crack, Alexander feels his blood sing, come alive. The fur along his spine rises, much in the same way hers had. Shoulders slide back slowly, allowing his head to raise and head to tilt back more so that the oncoming raindrops - as they got heavier, fell upon his face.

Is is so consumed by the need to revel in the wonder of the Mother that when her voice breaks the rumbling silence ( the moments between ), the beast's head turns sharply, his blue eyes narrowing intently and every muscle in his body on edge. Ears sweep back, the thick of his brow furrowing heavily. Was he trespassing?

No. It was the storm. "So should you." He retorts calmly. The rain begins to grow heavier, pushing past even the protective cover of the trees overhead. "Is there shelter somewhere nearby?" The Savante was not familiar with this place quite yet. A shame, really. Turning, heavy paws carry him toward her tentatively, but remaining a safe distance away for her own comfort.

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So should she. Maybe. But it is easier to dislodge plants safely after a good rain, and the storm isn't something Hazel fears. Her task might have kept her occupied all night, rain and storm be damned, but the canopy begins to fail and the big brute presses into her space, and her metaphorical hackles raise. He seeks shelter. Another helpless male.

"There is a burrow not far from here." Hazel's word are clipped and unhappy. It is her den, her burrow. Lifted out of the low ground and kept dry. She sighs, and curses her soft heart. "Come on then." Tucking the few plants she has together, Hazel turns on her heel and fully expects her uninvited guest to follow.

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If he could read her mind, he might be offended. Alexander was more than capable, but he'd been here to enjoy the storm and she had interrupted him, not the other way around. His patience was thin, but he would dare not snap or disrespect a woman, not if he could help it. That didn't mean he'd let her walk all over him.

Nostrils flare, taking in her scent casually before the mass of his form moves to follow after quietly. Would he fit into her burrow? That suddenly became a concern, but instead of complaining, he'd murmur a quiet, "Thank you." He hadn't meant to burden her, "I...apologize if I was in your way." The beast suddenly mutters, ears sweeping back, blue eyes glancing to the side.

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She would have been content to walk in silence, ignoring the great beast behind her, but he had other ideas. Hazel sighs, her annoyance irritatingly soothed by his unnecessary apology. "It’s fine," she waves her tail like someone might wave a dismissive hand. "You weren’t. I’m not - I - " Her eyes roll, out of sight of @Alexander ♔ - at herself, and her bothersome heart, her need to explain herself. If only she could switch it off. The druid’s ears flatten into her damp fur. "This way."

She ducks under a veil of willow tree leaves, thick and protective, which behind reveals a little den tucked under the willow’s trunk, dug out in painstaking fashion by Hazel over days and days and days, because she knew she would be here for a long time. Alone.

Hazel dumps her collected plants before slipping into her den. It’s deeper than it looks, more like a cave she can stand up in comfortably - @Alexander ♔ might have to bend his head, but she isn’t sorry for that. It is dark and warm in here, and her bedding of furs is more than enough for her. But winter approaches… and it will likely not be enough in the worst weeks.

Hazel busies herself doing absolutely nothing, not exactly shy - but with the air of someone embarrassed to be found living in such a state.

"Make yourself comfortable. It’s going to rain all night."

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She speaks, beginning to explain that he wasn't in the way. Despite himself, he manages a small smile. It was a small gesture that he appreciated, even if she seemed more annoyed at him than anything else. He wouldn't press. Alexander wasn't a beast to wallow in self-pity, but his heart did ache. She had found him at his worst, broken and his heart upturned by the cruel disregard of a woman who had claimed to love him.

So easily would it be lay his troubles out on the table, free for scrutiny, but he wouldn't put his burdens on others. Much less someone offering to help him out of the weather. Quietly the beast follows, his footsteps as heavy as his mood. @Hazel dips into a den that was revealed to be much larger than he first anticipated. Head ducks lightly to slip inside, still silent as those blue eyes of his observe her humble abode.

It was impressive and idly he wondered if she'd made this herself or run another creature out of it. Ears perk at her words, brows raising slightly as he clears his throat, "If the lightning dies down, I can see myself out. A little rain will not hurt me." He murmurs. Alexander goes back to admiring her little home. It was comforting, deep beneath the Earth and it allowed him - helped him breathe.

"My name is Alexander..." He finally relents, eyes settling on her after a time.

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"Oh, your oversized bones protect you from a cold, do they?" Hazel snorts, turning back to face the giant of a man once more and looking up at him. "And all this -" A forepaw lifts and juts toward his thick, long mane, wet from the rain and likely soaked through. "This isn’t going to waterlog you, and freeze you when it gets cold enough?" Sure, thick pelts are good in winter, as long as they’re dry. The rainy seasons are an entirely different matter, especially with no way to dry quickly and warm up.

There is one way to warm up quickly, but Hazel is not sharing her bed with a stranger. No matter how miserable and lonely she might feel.

"Hazel." She returns curtly, biting her lip to keep herself from attaching a surname that no longer belongs to her - maybe it never did. It was lost the moment she was, and she has been ever since. No, better she simply be Hazel again. Hazel the druid. Hazel the wanderer. Hazel the bitter bitch that can’t even be polite to a stranger.

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He was being chided, scolded like a child almost. It was, to say the least, not something he was used to. Brows furrow, blue eyes steadying on the woman before him as she fussed about his wet mane, the very obvious cold outside and made it apparent that he was - despite his very best efforts - not invincible.

Lips purse softly, nose wrinkling a bit as he reluctantly relents, "I was merely trying to think of your own comfort." The beast mutters, ears sweeping back. The braid in his mane had long since come untangled. Held together by a piece of dried skin from an antelope that had been softened from years of use. Where it was now...he had no idea.

"How am I to dry off then, or become warm?" In this moment, due to his current condition, Alexander was being obtuse. Not deliberately, simple because he'd been reprimanded and he wanted an answer if his own was not suitable for her. The idea of sharing her bed hadn't yet crossed his mind, but as the chill of the air began to seep into his skin. He hadn't been out in the rain long, but it hadn't taken much in the dead of winter.

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The druid only acknowledges his kindness with a tsk of thin black lips, deciding not to draw attention to the fact she hardly thinks of her own comfort, let alone anyone else. Why should they? He can think himself gallant all he likes, but he won’t leave and brave the storm in the name of Hazel’s comfort. Of course not.

Instead, like a child, he demands to know how he should dry off. Hazel’s eyes flick irritatedly over to the pile of warm furs in the back of her den. "Use them." She orders, chin jutting out toward her skins and bedding.

"They’ll take most of the excess away. The rest you can lay under to stay warm." There might be a spare one for herself as well. But the lion is a big man. He takes up almost all the breathing room of her little burrow. The druid steps away, pressing her side into the wall. At least there’s no chill down here. He generates heat just by existing. He’d be nice to sleep against, she imagines.

"Why were you all the way out here this late?" Unwilling to let the silence settle and allow him time to question her, Hazel interrogates @Alexander ♔ with questions instead. Whether or not she truly cares about the answer remains to be seen. She would guess not, chatter is nothing but filler.

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