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Description

NB: Literature has: (unintentional) misgendering of a trans character, some pretty shitty coercion into a relationship, and general not great vibes all around. Welcome to Citrine at her best.

Citrine was a fair hunter at best, but catching that pheasant had been an absolute trial. Still, she made it back before sundown, and as ruddy light spilled over snow and frost she approached the huddled form of Crow, trying to enjoy it's last rays in the most unobtrusive way possible.
Crow's look of confusion, then understanding, then betrayal actually gave the gold-pelted wolf pause.
Crow hadn't ever said exactly that she would react negatively to a Rigmyr... gift. And she and Citrine had bonded some, and the ruse had kept up...

---

Crow's ears burned with hot shame, and she rose to her paws, with an anxious glance behind, to the sides, ensuring she wasn't about to be on the receiving end of- any sort of punishment for being less than gracious about Citrine's pheasant.
"You- I can't believe- you-" she sputtered.
At least Citrine had the good sense to look mildly embarrassed behind the mess of wings and damaged feathers.
The pheasant was dropped, and his stance changed, then- into something best described as assertive, perhaps.
"Is it not better if it's me?" He asked, just a hint of a challenging sneer in his otherwise soft voice.
"You were pretty clear about how you didn't care for the most of the fellows here. At least I'll see you safe."
He met her gaze, and under it, Crow crumpled- stooped, and took the pheasant, carefully, graciously.
It could have been worse.

IV | Citrine |Wraith / Doll

IV | Crow | Initiate

Description

NB: Literature has: (unintentional) misgendering of a trans character, some pretty shitty coercion into a relationship, and general not great vibes all around. Welcome to Citrine at her best.

Citrine was a fair hunter at best, but catching that pheasant had been an absolute trial. Still, she made it back before sundown, and as ruddy light spilled over snow and frost she approached the huddled form of Crow, trying to enjoy it's last rays in the most unobtrusive way possible.
Crow's look of confusion, then understanding, then betrayal actually gave the gold-pelted wolf pause.
Crow hadn't ever said exactly that she would react negatively to a Rigmyr... gift. And she and Citrine had bonded some, and the ruse had kept up...

---

Crow's ears burned with hot shame, and she rose to her paws, with an anxious glance behind, to the sides, ensuring she wasn't about to be on the receiving end of- any sort of punishment for being less than gracious about Citrine's pheasant.
"You- I can't believe- you-" she sputtered.
At least Citrine had the good sense to look mildly embarrassed behind the mess of wings and damaged feathers.
The pheasant was dropped, and his stance changed, then- into something best described as assertive, perhaps.
"Is it not better if it's me?" He asked, just a hint of a challenging sneer in his otherwise soft voice.
"You were pretty clear about how you didn't care for the most of the fellows here. At least I'll see you safe."
He met her gaze, and under it, Crow crumpled- stooped, and took the pheasant, carefully, graciously.
It could have been worse.

IV | Citrine |Wraith / Doll

IV | Crow | Initiate