The weather had changed as he trailed the mountain pass that split the tundra and the plains. Although Wolfgang didn't know what lay to the east of the peninsula, the warmer temperatures that had greeted him as he descended the mountain slopes gave him suspicions.
The slopes here were rocky, slippery with hidden ice and winter-burnt grass. He followed the trail carefully, gaze never leaving his paws. Slipping here would mean injury, and the new emperor wasn't about to ruin his health by being impatient.
The purpose of his wanderings was curiosity. Were there other prides? He hadn't heard any other claims in his few days in the tundra. But then again, he worried the mountains had cut him off too much. Smelling rain and grass, he had followed his senses and could see the open grasslands in the distance. Now all he had to do was not break a limb getting down there.
Azriael had not seen another soul in weeks - maybe months. He was half-mad by now, talking to himself aloud often enough to make overhead vultures think he was delirious and dying, probably. The lush country he had managed to stumble upon was utterly empty, by the looks of it. Which was a shame - he would rather company than the endless, sprawling Eden before him. Yet he pushed on, determined that such a place could not be wholly uninhabited. The grasslands began a steep climb upwards and, figuring the best view would be from on high, the dark red beast began picking his way steadily upwards. Quickly this journey became dull and the lion fell easily into his own mind, letting his paws work on autopilot. Almost half way upwards, violet eyes landed on a shockingly lion-shaped form climbing down. Azriael blinked, almost believing he had gone mad and imagined himself company. But no, it was surely a real lion.
Azriael wouldn’t imagine company so intimidatingly bigger than he.
A delicate, porcelain smile slipped onto the lion’s maw as he trotted closer, his pace picked up until he near pranced, his skull lifted a fraction higher. “I was beginning to think I was the only one here!” He shouted, as if this stranger was some long lost friend.
Wolfgang was a patient creature, taking the downward slope with precise steps and a careful eye. In all honesty he hadn't been expecting company. In truth, the dark-hued emperor didn't care if he had a friendly face to speak to, or if he was solitary. Such was the comfort of a religious man. He had never felt alone for a day in his life. Yet when the greeting rose into the chilled air he raised his head and peered down at the dark red man that had crossed his path.
"Is that so?" Wolfgang called back. He stopped on the trail, not trusting himself to pad safely down without a close eye on his paws. He wondered briefly if this was someone he had come across before and forgetten. It wasn't a unreasonable guess, considering the lion's manner. "Were you looking for somebody, or just climbing this deathtrap for fun?"
The angle he found himself with the stranger did not help the feeling of being stupidly small. It was not a feeling Azriael was used to - his birth pride had bred large beasts, but none so large as this bastard in front of him. Nevertheless, he maintained that same open expression as he came to a quick halt before the other. The big one had stopped, so Azriael would close the distance. "Oh, yes," he agreed empathetically, ignoring the fact it was likely a rhetorical question. He gave a polite duck of his chin. "I was looking for anyone, really. I've been on my own for... a few months, I suppose. Thought the top might offer a view of the place." He paused for only a moment, taking a quick breath. "Does it have a name? This land?" Was this one a native, or a traveller like he is? The umber beast's nose crinkled as he tried to detect a pride or scent other his own on the stranger, but frustratingly came up blank.
It didn't bother Wolfgang that he had to look down at the crimson man, he was accustomed to it. What was new neck strain upon old aches? He should've been too young for that, but it tended to add up. As was the habit of the tall, he often forgot the differences.
Wolfgang pricked an ear as his new aquaintance offered an easy reply, though it raised more questions than it answered. "I heard the name Solui in my travels. My sect come from these parts." he replied after the barest of pauses, " I made a pilgrimage here to prove my coming of age." neutral facts perfect for sharing with a stranger. They weren't even lies. "I just came from the other side of the mountains this morning. It's tundra, all the way to the outskirts."
The information had been a show of good faith, and now Wolfgang expected answers in return. "Was it an accident, travelling alone?" he questioned, "Or just a solitary venture gone longer than expected?"
His question is answered easily enough, the stranger adding a few details about himself that Azriael stored away for safekeeping. Who knew when such minor things would come in handy? But Azriael focused more on the details of the territory for the moment. His lips pursed at the mention of the tundra. He had never liked the cold.
In turn, questions are fired at him. Expecting this, Azriael gave a quick, casual shrug. “No accident. I left my birth pride last spring. Got boring, you know? Too quiet.” The lies, with a sprinkling of truth, came as easily as breathing. Practised, forthright. He thought it was more than a boring enough story to protect cover him. Unwilling to let the conversation focus on himself for too long, however, the dark red lion narrowed in on a detail from earlier. “How long have you been… pilgrimaging for? Do you return home now?” He was genuinely curious and allowed the feeling to show through, his skull tilted a few degrees to the right, almost puppy-like in his expression.
Wolfgang had no reason not to believe the answers presented, not with how confidently Azrieal spoke and how normal of a tale it was. The spotted lion dipped his head in an understanding nod. Although he hadn't really been the sort to follow his curiosities since recently, Wolfgang was familiar with the drive. He would've had more idle questions had the topic not shifted back to him, and he gave a small shrug.
"A month or so," he said evenly, brown eyes watching Azriael carefully. "Though I don't think I'll return." Many did, but he felt no obligation to. Not after seeing how big the world was. Although his soul felt older, he was still young and had so many things to see. "Too quiet." He offered a small grin.
After a brief pause he spoke again. "I'm Wolfgang." Brown eyes peered down at the man, "What are you called?"
Bait taken, Azriael relaxed what small tension ran along his spine, giving his tail a flick as if that could send the nervousness that had built up away from the tuft. Violet eyes narrowed, focused a little more, when the other man mentioned his unwillingness to return. Interest piqued. “Oh?” He asked with false lightness, finding himself being watched in kind, the umber beast’s maw quirked into a quick half grin in return. That was probably the first real expression he had seen on the stoic creature. It wasn’t unnerving so much as annoying - the grin gave Azriael some hope that Wolfgang wasn’t as stuck up and straight laced as he seemed. Even if he was - well, Azriael was desperate.
“Azriael Morozov. The pleasure is mine, Wolfgang.” He said, as polite as anything, an ear flicking absently at a bug that tried again and again to land on him. “It’s quiet here, too.” He added after a moment, “or is it just this hill that’s particularly dull?” Wolfgang probably didn’t know but Azriael was simply finding a way to weasle into the big brute’s company. Leading questions were generally the way to go about it.
Azriael was his name. It was unusual sounding to Wolfgang, but he had to admit it suited the dark red man, with all his curls and dark gradients. Wolfgang was a little envious of his mane. The emperor nodded musingly to Azriael's reply, casting his gaze to their left. It was true. There wasn't really much other than mud, ice, and boulders up here. Treacherous ground and nothing more than a pathway between the mountain passes and the plains.
"Just this hill," he answered with a flick of his tail. Brown eyes glanced back to Azriael, "Though it could be it has hidden positives." Wolfgang indicated up to the mountain. "After all, the tundra seems like a wasteland," because it was at first glance, "But you'd be suprised at what it holds." He wasn't a fool, and he had ample reason for staking a claim to the icy land.
Wolfgang was quick to reassure him that it was only the hill they stood upon that was dull. That remained to be seen; Azriael had been here for some time and had yet to be excited about much. He cast a skeptical eye down the slope and then looked pointedly back at the big brute, leaving his unsaid opinion on the matter to rest on his face.
But then Wolfgang spoke again of the tundra, a frigid place if ever there was one. “Ohh, would I?” Azriael asked, teasing, forgetting himself - getting caught up in the moment. And then his mind caught up to his mouth and he has to will himself not to freeze up. Flirting was, without doubt, something he thoroughly enjoyed - but he normally had enough self preservation to not flirt with oversized strangers on a hillside. Especially when he did not know how they would react. So he simply kept still and that stupid grin plastered across his face, and decided to follow through. “That sounds like a challenge.”
Perhaps it was just competitive spirit, or just the shiny new place he'd found... but Wolfgang was swept up in the sudden urge to show off. He wasn't really sure what Azriael meant by his taunting tone. But would it really be so bad to wonder? A wry smile pricked at the spotted man's maw.
"If you want it to be." he shot back with a shift of his stance. Wolfgang tilted his head as he sized up Azriael afresh, politely within his bounds but with an undeniable questioning raise of his brow. "It gets pretty cold, sure you'd be up for that?" If it was a challenge Azriael wanted then Wolfgang would push him. Assuming he hadn't misread anything.
There were three possible outcomes Azriael was expecting. The first was violence - he had learned, the hard way, that flirting with the wrong lion would end in a fight. He was prepared for that - not outwardly, but he was pretty sure that he could outrun the bigger man. The second was much more preferable - that Wolfgang would flirt right back and things would go on their merry way and maybe he wouldn’t be so lonely for a while. The third was that his teasing would fly right over Wolfgang’s head and the man would think he was simply joking. That was the most common outcome, especially when he flirted at other men that were less inclined to rip any... threat they found apart.
Azriael gets the third option. Unfortunately, Wolfgang also straightens up a little, lifts his brow. There is a challenge in his very brown eyes and his words hit exactly rightwrong despite the umber lion knowing the intent behind them is not what he wants it to sound like.
Azriael’s brain short circuits.
“Ha. No, thank you. I value my life far too much to be crushed -” They both know Azriael would be pummeled by the big bastard - nolet’snotthinkaboutthat - “that is, you’re the one that said here was a death trap. Better fu-fight another time.” Never had Azriael wanted out of a conversation so much. Under his already red fur, the idiot’s skin was bright with heat. Not the fun kind, it was the kind that made him wish the earth would open and swoallow him whole. But he was not a coward, and only cowards ran away from big, stupid idiots that don’t know how to not look imtimidating in every possible way. Besides, even if he could never look at Wolfgang without his mind fuzzing out, it wasn’t like he had other options.
There was a fizz of disappointment in Wolfgang's chest as Azriael hastily backtracked out of that avenue of conversation, fumbling over his words. The tundra emperor relaxed his poise, head lilting to the other side as he peered at his unexpectedly frazzled company. What he said was true, because the hills were an accident waiting to happen. That pang in his chest didn't stay long because he had realised what those words implied.
"Another time, then." he agreed with an amused twitch of his whiskers. It meant this chance meeting wouldn't be some once-off banter on an icy hill. Was this a glimpse at what having friends was like?
It was after a small pause that Wolfgang spoke again. "If you still wanted to reach the top," he mused, "I can show you the path through and up. Faster than scaling the cliffs." He motioned up the trail from where he'd come from with a lift of his paw.
The dumb lion sends a hasty thanks to whatever gods that inhabited this land that Wolfgang agreed, returned to his neutral stance. Azriael is, he likes to think, usually much more composed than this. He is adept at flirting if his conquests are anything to go by. But hell, he is not prepared or willing to wrestle the big idiot, especially one so obviously... unaware. Wolfgang is daft as a snowbank and Azriael is in no position to alert the big brute to his utter innocence. Didn’t he say he was in a cult or something earlier? Fuck that.
Wolfgang looks at him, a paw lifted, and Azriael realizes a second too late that Wolfgang had kept on talking, and had probably asked a question. Mind whirring, it struggles to catch up to the conversation, fails, and makes a few leaps based on what it can glue together. Walk up the hill or something? “Yeah, sure,” he says, as smoothly as he can manage. He swallows an uncomfortable lump in his throat, slips a soft smile onto his dry lips, tries to flick that nervous energy the hell away from him. There, all better. Wolfgang might have just offered to throw him off the bluffs up there, but at least he had regained control of his traitorous body.
ooc: gonna end this here and start a new one at mountains
Had... had Azriael actually listened to his question? His belated answer draws an amused look onto Wolfgang's features, but he didn't press the matter. He was enjoying the crimson lion's company, and wasn't so keen to chase him off with pestering questions. He could only wonder what had Azriael so distracted. With an inviting tilt of his head, Wolfgang indicated for Azriael to climb with him. It wouldn't take long to get there, but he was unexpectedly eager to share the trails he'd discovered earlier that morning.
"Just mind your footing," he warned as he began to slowly pick his way back up the slope. He lingered to allow Azriael to catch up, his steps deliberate and demonstrative as he recalled the exact route he'd taken down the slope before their meeting. "It gets icy as we go higher."
