A simple request (Complete)

Things had been going as smoothly as could be expected, in the days since Greyo’miera had claimed the river forest as his own. The greenhouse had appeared through the trees as if it had always been meant for the Ah’mir, with plenty of space to grow and the ideal climate for the shilah’mira. The canna in his care were settling into their roles, and had accepted his authority with little to no quibble, which was all the better. It had been some time since he’d tasted the blood of his fellow dog, and he frankly preferred to keep it that way. Just because he excelled at violence did not mean he thrilled in its use; it was a tool, and one that he preferred to keep on the shelf when possible.

Damien laid on the plush carpet of moss within his den, concealed by the vines hanging in its entrance. He’d been toying with the idea of selecting his own right hand, a general of sorts, but saw no need when his clan remained this small. Perhaps when their numbers grew, he’d revisit the idea. His thoughts were interrupted by the approach of another dog. He scented her before he heard her, and rose from his sprawling lounge up into a seated position.

”Come in, Akoda.” He woofed out, inviting her into the privacy of his alcove. The great dane had adapted particularly well to their forest home, her proficiency in the hunt making her an irreplaceable boon to Ah’mir’s ranks. If she hadn’t already been named mountain for her considerable size, he’d have named her huntress.

As she entered, he fixed her with a mildly curious look, wondering what she needed to discuss. She didn’t appear to be ailed; her pelt was healthy and clean, and no scent of sickness could be detected. The mystery increased. ”Personal and important, hmm? I’ve had canna come to me for far less, so color me intrigued.” A smirk grew slowly upon his face, though his eyes remained serious as he considered her. ”What is it?”

@akoda

His brow raised incredulously when Akoda spoke, the brief lash of his tail across the ground the only other visible indication of his surprise. He was no stranger to affection, having had his fair share of flings in his day, but they’d all dissolved when the other party had realized he wasn’t willing to offer much more than a warm den. He found lengthy romantic trysts tiring, and pups were only bearable once they were old enough to stop drooling. Greyo’miera did not exactly exude an air of approachability (at least not in this sense), and so he was confused as to how his behavior had encouraged one of his ranks to approach him about ren of all things.

”I must admit that I’m flattered,” He said graciously, ”But I have little interest in rearing whelps. Or in taking a mate– even one pretty as you.” Damien said bluntly, foregoing his usual charm in favor of being direct. He didn’t want to lead her on, after all. The idea of dogs of his blood running around was vaguely appealing, to be fair– those born within a clan tended to grow up loyal to it, after all. But adolescents only became interesting once they could be trained, and he was loath to take care of any squirming bundles of milk and fluff.

”Unless you came to ask me for single motherhood?” The black brute smiled somewhat mockingly, nearly certain that was not the case (he would be wrong). He was no expert by any means, but even he knew that raising young was an arduous and daunting task. Young Kahru was already rambunctious enough for three; he did not envy Castor his task of mentorship, that was for certain.

@akoda