The wind was stronger than earlier, though he hadn't realised it until they had emerged from the cover of the pines again. It had taken just under an hour to collect the necessary items. The animal bones had been the easiest to find and so left for last. The pinecones were meant to be broken - they were just an aspect of the territory they ere in - and so he hadn't been choosy picking them up. The feathers had proven the most difficult to find, and why it had taken so long. Wolfgang had had to half-climb a tree to pluck some scraggly black feathers out of the pine-needles with his teeth. With that done, they had returned to the entrance of the caverns so he could retrieve some clean animal bones from the cache. And with that everything was prepared.
"It needs to be somewhere the light can reach it," he explained as he organised the items into a pile. The pinecones, crushed in his jaws made the foundation and ontop of that a few of the bones. Every piece he placed with delicate precision, using tinies nudges of his paws and nose. Wolfgang stood back before it came time to place the feathers, peering instead at Azriael. "You should try placing them," he said, a smile pricking his muzzle, "They just need to be upright. Give it a shot."
Like a loyal hound, Azriael had followed the king all over the tundra. At least that’s what the last hour felt like. It’d had its perks - watching Wolfgang climb a tree had to been the highlight. It had taken a lot of maturity to not wolf whistle while he waited on the ground. Could he have offered to climb, being the smaller of the pair? Yes, but he was here to simply observe the ritual. At least that’s what he’d told himself. He had at least carried a few things, helpful as ever. When they made it back to the caverns, Azriael settled down a few feet from what he assumed would be an alter and watched Wolfgang work. The emperor was intent on making it perfect, though Azriael couldn’t tell what made it better or worse. His clan had burned things as offerings, brought fire from the nearby volcano or waited until a lightning storm caused a fire on the plains. He was reminded of the women who’d gather herbs and dried leaves into bundles to burn and how intricate and devoted to their tasks they were.
An ear flicked at Wolfgang’s offer, his voice bringing him back to the present. "Oh, no I’ll definitely fuck it up." He said lightly. There was a laugh in his voice, smothering the right feeling he got when Wolfgang smiled like that at him.
Wolfgang let his head tilt to the left, a brow arching slightly as Azriael declined. "You can't really fuck something like this up," he chuckled, "It's... the emotion and the purpose behind it that Zola will see." He'd never really had to put it into words before. He nudged one of the feathers towards Azriael, then picked up the other with ever-so-gentle claws of his paw. "Besides, how do you know until you try? I'll do one too." He beckoned Azriael closer with a lift of his muzzle. Trust me. his eyes said.
Oh, curse Wolfgang and his stupid face and stupid eyes. Azriael groaned, loudly, as if Wolfgang had asked some monumental task of him. But he still stood as he was beckoned, unable to actually say no. He sauntered toward the king, eyeing the mess of objects with a thin frown pulling at his lips. He was fairly sure he was going to fuck this up - if not physically then emotionally. Not that he believed in Wolfgang’s gods anymore than he believed in his birth pride’s gods. But... still. There was that nagging doubt of the faithless who hadn’t always been so. It was easier to be faithless than furious, however, so Azriael brushed that aside and dropped down to his belly where he would build. "So why pine cones and feathers?" He asked after a moment, beginning to awkwardly stack pine cones and bones. It was difficult, using a gentleness and precision he was not used to. His paws shook whenever they neared his creation.
There was obvious, though muted in true Wolfgang fashion, delight that flickered over his face as Azriael caved. He shuffled onto his stomach too as the burgundy lion dropped down on the other side of the impromptu altar. The emperor tucked another bone into the side, poking up like a fang. Wolfgang was quick to glance up at the question, his brown gaze flickering from his intense focus on the altar to Azriael's masked face. "The pinecones represent the territory," he said, continuing to adjust and tweak as he saw fit. "If we were in the plains, I'd use grass. Or rock, in the mountains. Whatever is common." He squinted to look at a certain part before resuming. "The feathers are specifically to mark it as an offering for Zola. She can take any form, but birds are her favourite." A bird could flee without fear of obstruction. The sky was an open stretch. "At least, that's what my elders taught me." He took a moment to inspect Azriael's stacking, and gave a nod of approval.
Wolfgang explained, and Azriael nodded faintly. But his eyes remained locked on his work, a strange sort of focus forcing him to concentrate. After the hunt this morning, he realised he needed to make this work. If it fell, even once, he didn’t know what he’d do. Maybe it didn’t look as good as Wolfgang’s but at least it stood properly. Azriael chewed absently at his lip while he stacked more bones, almost forgetting Wolfgang entirely. Finally, he grabbed his feather and placed it oh so carefully in the top. If there was a goddess paying even the slightest hint of attention to the low life, she wouldn’t be able to deny that he had tried to do this one thing right, if nothing else. He glanced toward Wolfgang, rueful grin on his muzzle. "Will that please your goddess?" His question was light, almost teasing, because he wasn’t really looking for her approval. But he shouldn’t need Wolfgang’s as much as he did.
Wolfgang careful situated his own feather at the top of the altar, watching to make sure it wouldn't get blown away by the breeze that was quietly picking up. It lookied good, anchored in place by a piece of pinecone. Probably one of his best yet. The snow made it easy to stack the offerings. With a satisfied flick of his tail, he turned his attention back to Azriael's, impressed suprise marking his features. "Definitely." he hummed, though the reminder it was only his goddess stung a little. He pushed past it as he rose to his paws. Azriael didn't need to believe to gain their favour. It was a wise action, making these - it'd ensure they both had better luck on future hunts. Even if Zola refused to look upon one not of the following, perhaps it'd a least give him confidence.
With a sudden solemnity crossing his face, Wolfgang rose to a seated position. He lifted his head, allowing his eyes to close as the waning sunlight washed over him. "Zola, I present you these offerings," he murmured - a prayer. "I give thanks for the prey whose souls you bestowed to us so we may live in turn." He lapsed into a long-lasting silence, statuesque in his reverential poise.
Azriael’s chest might have puffed up a little seeing how impressed Wolfgang was. Maybe. He grinned, inspecting Wolfgang’s altar before the emperor sat up stiffly. Azriael recognised the posture from tarnished memories. He sat up as well, more out of respect for Wolfgang than the gods, and remained silent while the big lion prayed. It was vaguely uncomfortable. He felt expected to do something, say something. He didn’t want to. The sudden urge to knock his altar over almost won, but he pressed his paws harder into the ground, needing his claws into the snow. Instead of acting on that impulse, Azriael turned his eyes to Wolfgang, slanting his head to get a better view. With Wolfgang’s eyes closed Azriael had the perfect opportunity to stare without being caught. So he did. His gaze roamed Wolfgang’s profile. Lacking the usual half scrowl half stoic guise, he looked much softer - younger. It would have been better if there was a smile, but those were so rare to get out of the emperor. Azriael was rather pleased that he was the cause of most of the ones he’d seen, rather than the gods Wolfgang spoke to now.
Take that, deities, I can make him laugh.
The lion felt his chest tighten at the thought. He wasn’t used to this useless pining - Azriael was a creature of action. He acted on his desires, what he wanted. But Wolfgang was more than just a nice ass and face. He was the closest thing Azriael had to a friend since - forever, really. Not to mention he was the emperor. He was impossible. Azriael didn’t want to ruin everything that was finally good in his life just to get laid. Look but don’t touch was a motto he was going to have to learn to live by... which would be relatively easy if he didn’t want to touch Wolfgang every time he saw him. Azriael sighed and dragged his gaze to his altar. He really, really needed to get laid.
[googlefont="Martel"] Wolfgang let the quiet linger a little longer than he'd intended, far longer than it actually took to normally pray. Maybe it was because he could feel Azriael's eyes on him - or maybe that was what he was imagining? It would undeniably be awkward if he opened his eyes and caught him doing so. Wolfgang sent a silent apology to Zola, hoping she wouldn't be displeased by his wandering thoughts when he was supposed to be revering her name. With a sudden huff to himself, he roused again. Had the snow been this bright just moments before?
"Hopefully she hears us." Wolfgang said, pushing a smile onto his muzzle as he glanced back to Azriael. "If she has, I expect hunting to be a little better for a while." He lingered on the altars they had made with a scrutinizing expression, but soon rose to his paws.
"I think it's time to eat," The emperor mused as he stretched out his back, rolling his neck to ease the tension of sitting so straight. "Care to join me?"""
It isn't overly long before Wolfgang snapped out of his prayers - or maybe Azriael’s mind wandered enough that time went by quickly as he stared at his little alter thing. Either way, the russet lion’s gaze trailed back to the emperor with a quirk of a brow when he stirred. Azriael kept his face blank, as if he hadn’t been thinking things he certainly shouldn’t be. He refrained from saying anything about Zola or future hunting trips, but the soft snort he made was much more audible than he’d meant it to be. Wolfgang really needed to find some lionesses to join him and not rely on Azriael, who decided he’d make himself scarce when hunting came up again. He would do anything to avoid another disaster like that.
“My king, are you asking me to dinner?” Azriael asked teasingly, a grin in place to assure himself Wolfgang that this was definitely a joke. He stood, wincing at the tingling feeling in his legs that told him he’d been still for far too long. He couldn’t deny that he was hungry. But. “I will need to clean myself off first, if I’m to dine with royalty.” Getting the last of the rabbit blood from his mane was going to be annoyingly difficult, but perhaps it would wash the last of his embarrassment away with it and his mind would stop circling back to their last thread. It was getting annoying.
Was he? Azriael seemed to be joking but Wolfgang was not. "I suppose I am." he answered with an petty grin. Azriael hadn't given him a proper answer though, and he lingered for it with his dark eyes. "Certainly." Wolfgang laughed as Azriael more or less confirmed a yes. Wolfgang was eager to get the blood out of his fur too - not to mention the pinecone dust.
"Call for me when you're ready." he said after a pause. The sun set early at this time of year, but they still had plenty of daylight left before it got too cold to be comfortably outside in the snow. "I'll see you then." and with that he turned to leave, offering a nod of temporary farewell as he made his way back toward the caverns. The bubble of impatience glimmering in his chest was unfamiliar and he needed to compose himself. "" /exit
Wolfgang let the quiet linger a little longer than he'd intended, far longer than it actually took to normally pray. Maybe it was because he could feel Azriael's eyes on him - or maybe that was what he was imagining? It would undeniably be awkward if he opened his eyes and caught him doing so. Wolfgang sent a silent apology to Zola, hoping she wouldn't be displeased by his wandering thoughts when he was supposed to be revering her name. With a sudden huff to himself, he roused again. Had the snow been this bright just moments before?