Okay, okay — as long as he stayed close, she could stay grounded. He’d caused the whirlwind of emotion that had nearly overwhelmed her, yet when his nose skimmed over her cheek and neck, she could feel the storm inside her slowly, steadily diminishing. Really, he was the only one who could. Alone, Léonie’s fury burned until there was nothing left to feed it, yet @Thrain smothered it, subdued it.

So, she remained there, finding shelter in his presence even as the storm above darkened the summer sky. “Do you remember this place?” she asked, tucking her head beneath his jaw, hiding in some dry section of mane. He’d forgotten her, so maybe he’d forgotten the Hideaway too, and their history inside its canyon. She supposed she could remind him, once he’d sufficiently groveled, but she hoped that he remembered their talk of marriage.

artwork • coding

THRAIN

Relieved his dark companion was in no real rush to depart from the steamy velcro of his infatuation, Thrain's eyes momentarily closed; hidden behind charcoal lids just long enough to feel the electricity that sparked like static thunder between them - whether one-way or not, he didn't know. His head would tilt, brushing a golden lip softly at the crispy edges of her wound, inhaling, wondering what spirited endeavor had found her so torn.

Though the noise of his mind grows no quieter when amethyst vision once again is exposed, training easily against the striped darkness of her pelt; washed with a deep indigo beneath the menacing roll of storm clouds overhead. A subtle, fleeting smile flashed across his masculine cheeks, and he withdrew his embrace of her wounds to seek the burning hazel of her gaze, though it flickers almost boyishly between her face and her neatly-tucked haunches - light upon ruddy sand.

"It felt more like a dream," Thrain admits, his mind recalling the heat of tangled limbs and bodies pressed against unforgiving surfaces - but as equally, words of commitment. "Or maybe a fantasy," a half-smile so wanting to be playful, maybe even suggestive, but still dampened by a sense of loss and anguish. He wants to return his face to the curve of her warm neck - stemmed from the rising heat of vivid memories and a crackling at his skin - but he is able to hold their measly separation only long enough to reveal why.

"But, you are more beautiful a wife than any man could dream of," his eyes were wholly hers now, momentarily forgetting his self-condemnation, his focus consumed by the perfection of sleek soot that swept across feminine curves; just one facet of her overall enchantment - a representation of the captivating being that @Léonie Miroslav was, both inside and out. Again his jaw tightened, tension consumed by the knowing she may have moved on, and yet not particularly willing to truly consider it - far too entangled in their reunion, in the intoxicating feelings that rushed his nervous system when she was close.

code by flea

The ugly, scabbed skin flinched under the touch of his whiskers, the motion rippling down her limb and elbow, fading away near the paw. She’d soon reveal the story behind her wound, but it seemed unimportant compared to his sudden return. In that moment, nothing else mattered — only @Thrain.

He eased away to catch her gaze with his and she allowed him to, hazel meeting deep amethyst while he likened that day in the canyon to a dream, even a fantasy. Léonie snorted, her smile more energized then by the mischief she chose to believe was hidden behind his grief. She hated the sorrow that she saw in his eyes and expression, and much preferred him smiling, or with a look of flustered awe. That had been her favorite.

Thrain continued, and what he said had her smiling sheepishly, ears turned back and eyes turning away while she burned under her dark coat. A huff, embarrassed yet amused, rushed from her nose and behind it, a pleased mumble, “Fuck, fine. I forgive you. C’mon.”

Rising, Léonie turned on her healthy paws, thumping the white tuft of her tail into Thrain’s chest, to hurry him. Holding her wounded limb off the ground, she then headed toward the cliffs, limping towards shelter where she and her husband could hunker down and properly close the distance that the previous year had left behind.

artwork • coding

THRAIN

The snorts, the giggles, they all felt like home; and Thrain fell willingly into the mischievous gleam of her hazel vision, burrying himself in everything that lived there - everything that made @Léonie so unapologetically herself. Once, his brow had furrowed in the wake of free spirit, unable to understand why she were not more composed, more disciplined. It had confused him. But now he envies her, but more so, loves her for it.

The coarseness of her words infiltrate his flesh, combined with her wounded departure from his immediate closeness; muscles flex under his shoulders and his lips pull up in a wanting smirk, craving nothing more than her contact again. He watches her for as long as he can, the injured sashay of her charcoal hips, even reaching a paw to swipe at his own chin - as if to pinch himself, as if to confirm he wasn't dreaming.

Thrain would scurry after her with a similar eagerness to that day she had suggestively asked to see his den, amidst the glow of fireflies and newly fledged young adults. Only now he holds enough maturity to maintain something of his more manly air, and seeks to come upon her healthy shoulder - gliding his cheek down her ribcage with a happy rumble as he did so.

He hoped that she would lean on him; let him have some sense of valiant accomplishment, allow him to show he had not stalled in his physical training in his absence... and there was a fire that had been burning for her, for a long time.

code by flea

For a second, she worried that, should she turn around in search for him, she’d find only dry rock and dark clouds — that she would’ve simply imagined him there in the canyon, a hallucination spawned by the memories they’d made deep within. However, before her heart could stumble, his warm touch brushed over her side and grounded her, making her sigh in relief. Flushed beneath her coat, she angled her head to catch a peek of him as he slipped higher, until she could press her shoulder into him for support. A purr expressed her gratitude while she leaned close, allowing him to help her to safety.

“Did you visit the Oasis?” she asked as they neared the shelter. @Thrain had found her in the Hideaway, but Léonie wondered if he’d tried her childhood home, only to realize neither she nor her family were there.

artwork • coding

THRAIN

She relents to his aid, leaning against his taller form; allowing him the pleasure of assisting her in wherever she might need to go - not just today, but always. Though Thrain's ambition and allegiance would always rest with his father, @Léonie had become his emotional focus. If she allowed it, she would be his future.

A bronze ear trained to the lioness as she hobbled by his side, leaning his cheek faithfully close to her own; shadowing her, magnetized to her closeness. Though she seemed so cool and calm and collected, and true, Thrain was relieved - there simmered within a wild excitement, crackling under his ribcage and keeping his jawline tense.

"I bypassed it. I'm sorry," he offered her, knowing her soul would always yearn for the desert - and that her families scent no longer lingered there, "What happened?" a lot, he was sure.

code by flea

The movement of his muscle across hers made her think ahead, to when she’d lay down for the evening. No longer would she be alone. @Thrain was home again, and as long as they were together, she could handle the loss of the Oasis.

“What, you thought you’d just find me here?” she snickered, ducking under the ledge of a rock. “Am I that predictable?” She was anything but — and she knew it too. Her cheeky smile said as much as she slowly, stiffly sank to the ground, leaving Thrain to barricade the temporary den with his mass.

Leaning on her good elbow, the former Heiress sighed. “Scorpius inherited the pride before winter. He made Sedona his queen and I was the heiress until a couple of days ago. Wolfbron sent someone to challenge Scorpius and the bitch poisoned him. He’s been challenged twice and both times, he ended up poisoned,” she explained, curling her claws into the gravel. “I tried kicking out one of their runts and the head cow fucked up my shoulder. They did the same shit to Scorpius and Sedona— remember when we all went checking on the prides? Well, apparently it’s only okay for the Dieudonné to remove nosey twerps from their lawn. Anyone else does and suddenly it’s a war crime.” Her hazel eyes rolled over the hypocrisy.

“Anyway,” the dark imp continued, “we’re thinking of going to the Summit. They have newborns to keep safe.” Léonie lifted her gaze to seek Thrain’s, watching for his reaction to the news: he was an uncle now.

artwork • coding

THRAIN

An amused smirk, soft and knowing, wove across his cheeks at her words; knowing her question was entirely rhetorical. "@Léonie Miroslav, predictable?" a pause, butting his cheek playfully against her own in the interim, "Never." She was the very essence of freedom, of never knowing - an eternal, beautifully feral wonder.

She would soon duck beneath a low-hanging rock, sheltered from the storm that rumbled overhead as a light sprinkling of rain struggled to match the ferocity of water-starved thunder. Thrain hesitated though, reluctantly; instead standing like a blockade in the make-shift doorway - not wanting to assume she desired his closeness, allowing them just those few extra minutes to talk.

He soaked it all in, as best he could, his mind still so distracted by her very being - her body warmth filling the cavern, the rise and fall of her ribcage beneath her dark skin. Everything that made her real. "Newborns?" he is not really surprised to be an uncle, but happy - and it shows. "The Summit will have you all I'm sure, Jafar and Maia are there," he had stopped so briefly to reunite with his father before finding Leonie, "I'll follow you anywhere." A promise. He's tense again, his ears buried in his mane, head hung low beneath the structure of red stones; eyes burning an impossibly hot amethyst as they clung to her.

Oh - and eventually, Wolfbron would pay.

code by flea

Encouraged by his response and the playful bump, Léonie’s smile broadened, her voice reverberating from deep inside her chest, purring contentedly. A quiet echo persisted until she was comfortable on the ground and looking back to see where @Thrain was, only to find him lurking in the entrance of the shelter. She snorted and refrained from inviting him closer yet, choosing instead to appreciate the view that was her handsome, hunky husband.

“Two sons and a daughter,” the Miroslav minx proudly revealed, her chest puffed with an excess of pride over her new niece and nephews. However, the vow that followed — paired with the tension she could nearly see buzzing under his skin — had her expression softening. “A friend of mine is challenging for the Rainforest soon,” she began. “She helped carry Scorpius to safety after the fight. I told her if she wins, I’d join her and help strengthen the pride.” There was a pause as she searched his eyes. “I’m not sure what Scorpius and Sedona will do. I think it’d be safer if they stayed in the Summit with your parents until the kids are bigger, but I owe my friend a favor. Would you still come with me?” He’d said he would, but Léonie wondered if the Rainforest would be too painful for him to return to, much like the Hideaway had once been painful for her.

artwork • coding

THRAIN

He would meet his sisters offspring soon enough, there was no question of that; and the children would have an aunt and uncle to stand for them through their days. Though Thrain and @Léonie shared very few similarities, loyalty was sure to be a mutual passion, and family always reigned supreme.

His ears piqued slightly at her words, but he is thinking far less of the Rainforest than she might expect. There is no flashbacks of trauma or clenching of anxiety, instead his mind is focused upon her - his wife, and the fact that her words in one way or another meant she would have him back.

She was inviting him to be with her, asking if he'd join her - as if it were ever a question. His lids grow heavy with something of relief, short and fluttered blinks so unwilling to interrupt his darkened view of the lioness where she lay. "I'll go wherever you will have me," a grovel?

Thrain takes a spared step toward her, not caring for the detail of why and where, only caring that she would be there - and he would tentatively try to press his forehead to her cheek, his skull tilted to direct warm breath into the crook of her neck. The tension that built whenever space had grown between them did not ease as he had hoped, his body and soul only left wanting for more.

code by flea