All this and heaven too

[narrow width=700]She couldn't remember the discussion.

They had seen little of each other in the days following their sudden professions of love, unconsciously making space so that they might ponder over what that meant in private - or, in Valeska's case, try to figure out how their relationship would change. Would it, though? They had already been glued at the hip for much of their time here already, and apart from slightly increased Public Displays of Affection, they seemed pretty much fine as they were. Amaranth was a woman of fewer words than she, so it wasn't as if she would suddenly find herself composing sonnets for her silver friend. Girl-friend. Girlfriend.

Valeska blinked. It would take some getting used to.

“Amara? Do you need help?” she called back behind her, realizing she had forged much farther ahead than the long-legged female through the densely packed snow. The little wolf was made for frost and tundras and high mountain peaks; her limbs were thicker, sturdier, and she didn't really walk through the snow so much as steamroll over it.

She stopped, and a few scattered flakes drifted lazily and collected at the end of her nose. The golden image of her companion came gradually into view, and it did not look like it was having very much fun.

Ah, that was it - Amaranth had suggested an outing together (something similar to a 'date', perhaps), and made the mistake of graciously allowing Valeska to choose where. The latter knew how fiercely Amaranth hated the cold, despised the snow; but she thought it would be nostalgic, maybe even a little romantic to try and have a pleasant time out in the kind of climate she had grown up in. It wasn't all terrible. The Everfrost in particular was beautiful, clustered with tall, glimmering evergreens that caught the morning light like so many sparkling prisms.

The crisp air blew through her coat, and she smiled as if she were enjoying a summer breeze at the beach.

“See? It is good!”

Valeska was shining, radiant, her pale fur a halo around her like an enormous wad of cotton candy fluff. She was in her element and relished every moment; this was more like home in the only way that Fate's Respite could not provide. Her decision to settle at the base of the mountain was more for the benefit of the other members than anything else, for she knew she was the only other wolf (perhaps barring Harper) that enjoyed such frigid conditions.
Though she missed it greatly, she would rather everyone feel comfortable than freeze their paws off.

“Where I grew up, was much more windy - here it is nice and still. Good introduction for you!”


@Amaranth
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Their relationship had evolved over the past few weeks — flourishing with newness that was warm, inviting, and possibly even a bit overwhelming. Admission of sensation and feeling was an alien concept to the shimmering, golden lady. It was something she never anticipated feeling, doing, experiencing ... never mind trying to explain those eccentric feelings to another. But as difficult as it all felt, it was easier with Valeska. Her smiling disposition, the warmth that flooded from her smiling lips, the sunshine that lit behind those honey lenses ... glowing with affection as they periodically glanced in her direction. Valeska's attention sent warmth through Amaranth in a way she couldn't possibly explain — it was just something she felt every time those eyes cast a coy glance in her direction.

It made her feel.

But something else made her feel, too.

And it was this damn snow.

She would need Valeska to keep staring at her with those warm, honey-fire eyes to keep her body from simply crippling. This was quite possibly the worst idea she'd ever had — letting Valeska take the lead on their ... date. Golden slippers housed toes that were now numbed with the cold, her slender body taking abnormally large steps through the awkwardly deep snow. Valeska simply plowed ahead, using her stockier frame like a little snowplow as she trounced with glee through the sparkling, ermine abyss. Amaranth was careful to follow lightly in Valeska's wake, riding in the woman's trail to alleviate the work on her limbs. Her breath escaped from dark lips in gentle, rapid huffs of smoke; her slender face and body were emotionless against the frosted backdrop.

"Amara? Do you need help?" The little voice sounded from up ahead, the more dense, fluffy frame of her significant other slowing. Yellow eyes graced her, sending that familiar pang of (much-needed) warmth through her chest. She could not help but allow a slender, coiling smile to play at the edges of her lips. "You could carry me," she suggested in jest, flicking her long golden tail behind her as her airy voice sounded against the snow.

The wind kicked up, brushing against her and sending tendrils of her golden pelt flickering around. Small bullets of snow lifted from the loose tops of the snowbanks, whirling across the tundra and smacking her right in the face. Amaranth turned her head against the breeze, closing her eyes for a moment as the breeze licked at the tips of her chilly ears. After a moment, her lavender eyes opened to find Valeska standing proudly against the wind, her silver coat blending in against the crisp colors of the snow and trees. She looked ... happy, adapted, situated. She looked like she felt at home. And she was beautiful.

Amaranth looked like a half-built, forgotten snowwoman, with snowballs sticking to her flowing golden fur.

"See? It is good! Where I grew up, was much more windy." She half-opened her mouth to contest that there could be something 'more windy' and more unbearable than this, but she shut that agape jaw and merely smiled. Her eyes still swirled with that unreadable purple mist, enigmatic as ever. And then Amaranth took a few steps forward, lifting her paws high over the snow to come to stand directly aside Valeska. Her taller body slid slowly against the other, pressing into her gently to feel her warmth. "It is good," she agreed gently, nudging Valeska's thick neck with her nose gently before allowing her purple gaze to lift and scan the horizon.

The more she looked at it, the more she began to see the beauty. It almost looked ... like if Valeska were a landscape, this would be how she would be painted.

"It really is beautiful," Amaranth admitted gently, tilting her head as she appraised it. She supposed she would ... consider visiting. But she secretly was relieved that Elysium hadn't chosen to roost in a place like this. She would certainly have perished. "I was born in a desert," she added simply, her voice chiming. "Much less to look at ... sand, and heat. Burning." Her eyes glittered as she spoke of her homeland, running her tongue over her lips a moment before her gaze snapped back to Valeska. "Tell me more about where you were born ...?" She quickly lifted the intonation at the end of her statement to be more of a question ... and less of a demand (which is almost how it came out). Gently, the slender golden women pressed ever closer to Valeska's warmth, a smile returning to her lips.

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[narrow width=700]The vision of Amaranth high-stepping it through the snow like a cat in booties was enough to force her into diverting all of her strength into not laughing. She had never seen the great spirit-walker and all of her otherworldly mysticism devolved into such a terribly mortal state. Long and slender legs rose like carnival stilts, arcing deliberately through the frosted air to land with careful precision into Valeska's own stocky pawprints; even her tail was tensed out behind her, stiff and board-like as she struggled to make progress.

"You could carry me," came the golden woman's languid reply, dry yet teasing as it drifted lazily across the space between them to tickle her ears. To say that Valeska's first thought was not to dart beneath her tall frame and lift her up in jest would have been a filthy lie; she only barely managed to restrain herself, thinking it prudent not to push her luck too far. After all, the fact that Amaranth had made it out here at all was a miracle in itself. She held an aversion to water already; this was just its chillier, less-drownable evolution as far as she was concerned.

As her companion approached to give a quick caress, standing close in a display of affection as much as for warmth, Valeska tipped her head up to look at her lover's face. The words "It really is beautiful" left her cold, ebony lips, but while her eyes said one thing, her body language sang a different tune as a discreet little shiver wracked through her lithe form.

“You know,” Valeska began slyly, clearing her throat. “Lying is sin.”

She flashed a toothy grin to let her know it was meant lightly as Amaranth continued, her soft voice fading in and out like the hazy snowflakes that fluttered past them. She spoke of hot sun and burning sands from her homeland, and the word 'desert' sounded foreign to her fluffy grey ears as she tried to wrap her mind around what that meant. Valeska couldn't fathom what kind of hellscape her friend came from - because, by all accounts, it sounded like Hell.

Perhaps that was what granted her such wisdom - she had survived and fooled the devil himself.

The gentle pressure of Amaranth's side pressing into her own roused her from such dark thoughts. “Where I was born?” she repeated numbly, still pondering over devils and deserts. “Was born on tallest mountain of a nameless range. My father, Dimas - he and our pack had lived for many generations there. Was cold, so cold, and the wind never ceased blowing, but we were strong. Small pack, but close.” She couldn't remember the last time she had ever told this story, if she ever had at all. The only other wolf who discussed it with her was Harper, but she usually wouldn't utter more than five words on the subject before angrily changing the subject; some wounds never healed.

“I might even be there now, except mama had four pups, and only two looked like father. He thought her unfaithful, but she said she was already with child when came to our mountain - he did not believe her. Came to an ugly head when Harper's father arrived months later, and Dimas banish them all,” she said quietly, awkwardly at first, but gradually overcame her hesitance as the memories came back in a flood of what could only be described as word-vomit. Whatever Amaranth had wanted to know, this was what she was getting.
“Our other siblings perished, but with Harper gone, only I was left. Father was stubborn, and prey dwindled, until finally we, too, start to die - yet he refused to listen, cut out tongue of packmates who tried to abandon home to fill their bellies. Ugliness. In the end, we died on that mountain. I loved it - it was home - but home should not be where you give up.”

Only at the end of her dialogue did Valeska realize she'd been talking for some time now, and Amaranth had surely grown bored or felt some kind of awkwardness about the situation. It was far more than she'd asked for, but home to her felt intricately tied to the story that had played out at its peak. Besides... it meant something, having her know. It seemed right. Nervously, her eyes darted back to the treeline surrounding them, suddenly wishing she could read the golden wolf's thoughts.

“Sorry. We all carry little tragedies with us, I think.”

Valeska willed her gaze up to meet Amaranth's vivid amethyst pools, dreading to find judgment within them.

“What else do you remember of... your home?”

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"You know, lying is a sin." The sinister little wolf smirked up at her, those warm golden eyes practically laughing as her mouth flashed an uncharacteristically sly grin in her direction. It rattled her a bit — in a pleasant way. And as much as Amaranth did not believe in commonplace values such as good, evil, truth, lies ... "It is not a lie," she replied, reversing Valeska's joke with her serious tone and a softly lifted brow. "This place is ... like you." What she meant was: and you are beautiful. What she hoped it didn't read as was: a bit cold, gusty, and unpleasant generally. Her gaze softened then, that seriousness escaping her as quickly as it came. Perhaps her smile would elude her true feelings.

Valeska would hopefully understand some of her intricacies by now.
Or perhaps it was her enigma that attracted the other.

What was it that attracted Valeska to her, anyway? Existentially, she'd wondered about it for some time. Amaranth was nothing but a broken half-soul, crippled emotionally and limping through life on the simple pleasures. Carnal things excited her. Imagination preserved what little sanity she held left. Somewhere deep, deep within there were perhaps ashes of a creature that could have been nurtured and loved — but that creature was close to invisible. And Valeska, she was a breath of fresh mountain air (literally). She was positivity, radiance, and strength. There was no logical reason she should want to be with something as frail and misunderstood as the brittle golden lady.

Yet here they were.
Opposites attracting in chaos.

And Valeska began to spin an elaborate tale, her voice falling from her lips like delicate smoke. Unwinding and vulnerable; she spoke of her home, her father, her mother, her siblings. Her voice left her dark lips like gentle music notes, painting a mental picture in Amaranth's mind. She could see it — the bitterly cold mountain, traced in ice-encased evergreens. She could feel the wind in her fur, the icy chill that threatened ... but the warmth of a family that kept them safe. It unraveled in her mind's eye, composed and directed by her small, silver companion. Amaranth's lavender eyes glassed over as she listened, entranced by the story and completely fixated on the images that began to paint themselves in her mind's eye.

Valeska spoke of a male, her father — Dimas. He was but a hulking man of shadow in her mind ... a prideful, disturbing figure; a man who stole and stole until there was nothing left to take but the lives of his family. Dead siblings. Dead family. Everything was stolen by a selfish, hateful father. She hardly processed that Valeska and Harper were but half-siblings; she supposed she never was told, but certainly made sense when comparing their demeanor and their appearances. But Valeska continued, speaking of Dimas and his ugliness and his violence. Violence. Violence. Stealing tounges. Shedding crimson bloodshed. A violent father, stealing life and vibrancy from everything and everyone. Utter damnation. The shadow began to encompass everything, eating away at the snow and the pines and the sky ... and the sun ... until everything was black.

Amaranth swallowed heavily, not realizing that the chill had left her bones. She felt hot enough to melt the snow.

"—but home should not be where you give up."

The vision began to slowly melt away, her hazy eyes blinking in repetition as she turned her gaze back toward Valeska ... a hidden emotion softening the edge. I am ... sorry. Heavy lids blinked again, and her voice was soft, now: "Darkness breeds light, too, Valeska; it is the nature of chaos. There is balance. Some find the light within the shadow." She smiled gently, amazed that such a beacon of light and hope could come from such a place of torment. "Your light radiates," she assured her, her ebony nose lowering to press softly into the fluffy, silver cheek of the other in a soft, affectionate gesture.

But Valeska would need to be careful.
For the light attracted creatures of the night. Of the darkness.

That was how chaos worked.

"What else do you remember ... of your home?" Valeska would persist, then, those golden eyes prying and gentle.

It was like a weight pressed onto her chest; as much as she wanted to expose herself to Valeska, it hurt. "I have had no home before you and Elysium," she said gently, her lavender eyes recoiling slightly with something akin to a trauma — a hurt. The tints of her emotions were not obvious, but she knew Valeska would at least appreciate the shift in energy. "I remember the heat, mostly. Endless sand. Dust storms. An oasis. There was a pack, but it was not a family, like yours. They were just faces, and I don't remember many of them well." They came and went like visions. There were only two faces she could recall. "There is cruelty and shadow everywhere, even in the brightest of places. Especially in Hell. And eventually, I ran away. I ran until I could not run anymore. Until I found the cover of trees and respite from the torturous heat." And it had been a place she could hide from the one who so badly wanted her dead.

There was silence for but a minute, nothing but a gust of wind. And then she continued ... "But the funny thing about memories is that you can always keep making new ones," she finished, taking a subtle step backward before a quick and mischievous glint caught her eye. Within an instant, her frozen golden paw flicked upward, tossing a loose pile of snow right toward Valeska's face. "Better ones," she said brightly, a glimmer of hungry happiness lifting her lips into a genuine grin. Before Valeska had the chance to retaliate, the golden woman sprinted forward, taking off with awkward grace through the depths of the snow before peeking over her shoulder, tail flicking in invitation for Valeska to chase her.

So they could leave the past behind, and run forward. Together.

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It had never occurred to her before how good it might feel to be understood by another - to be known, to have a comfortable rapport one might rest in, not entirely unlike basking by a warm fire. Perhaps Amaranth didn't know the full depth of her manner of operation, nor the true and fervent devotion she felt toward the Five, but what Valeska had with the slender creature was unmistakable.

Home was not so much a place, as she had wrongly believed for the last few years. Home was who you were with.

Amaranth's little inflections were not lost on her, and she smiled winningly up at her companion. Puppy love. Her family might have been of a more practical breed back in the day, geared more toward survival than mere sentiment, which was what had driven Dimas to react so harshly toward her mother's former lover appearing suddenly. It had been brutal, and retribution had been swift. Blood - so much blood, it stained the snow white.

Only the final, strangled cry of her little brother in the distance tore them from each other's jaws.

They truly had lost everything that day.

Well, almost.

'Your light radiates.'

Valeska grew hot beneath her fur, melting the fine dusting of snow that had collected atop her cheeks. Amaranth nuzzled the little wolf, gentle and soothing and deliciously soft despite her angular features; Valeska swallowed an unexpected lump in her throat. What had she done to deserve this happiness? Why on earth was this beautiful woman hanging around her in the middle of the tundra - she could have had anyone! Anyone at all, she was shining and golden and perfect, but here she was, full of love and ever faithful in spite of her nature.

But at Valeska's inquiry, the energy between them shifted. Amaranth's eyes seemingly fell in on themselves, two empty voids churning shadows, collecting pain like rain from the sky. It was the closest she had ever seen her companion come to darkness yet. Telling her tale and living her pain in the tangled web of her family's messy history, the silver wolf thought she knew what hurt felt like - but perhaps she didn't at all.

The cold wind blew, and Valeska almost felt it that time.

Hell. Amaranth truly had come from the Land of Endless Shadow, though she was surprised to hear that it lacked any despite its name. She continued to be vague, dancing around any true detail as if she were stepping on hot coals, struggling to reach past the fiery embers that threatened to burn her; the poor woman tortured herself even speaking at all, and Valeska felt remorse for pressing her further. She shouldn't have asked. For a wolf who had seen Hell - who had lived it - that was enough.

"You are stronger than you know, моя сияющая звезда." — my shining star. She then opened her mouth to impart more sage, comforting words, but before she had the opportunity to speak again, Amaranth rose on long golden legs and bounced through the snow in a burst of powder and laughter. Valeska sputtered, getting a mouthful of snow in the process, and looked on in frozen shock. She wanted to... play?

Oh.

A switch flipped in her brain and the silver female spared nary another thought and lunged forward in a frenzy, easily bounding after Amaranth and utilizing the already-laid tracks to aid her speed. She caught up quickly - too quickly - and accidentally slammed into her beautiful backside, sending them both tumbling forward and...

... over the edge of a very steep hill. It was so smooth and so sharply inclined toward the distant bottom of said hill, there might as well have been goal markers set along the way for their impromptu slalom. They flew down at breakneck speed, whizzing past pine trees and startled white hares with Valeska howling all the way, slick and swift like greased weasels down a pipe.

It had been so innocent.
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It almost felt ... freeing, to run. To leap. To pounce.

The golden woman was as far out of her element as she could have possibly been, her limber legs trouncing like a newborn deer as she damn near frolicked through the frosted landscape. The inside of her chest felt heated, warmed by the brewing fire that Valeska had conjured. "You are stronger than you know," she had said, just before her golden counterpart had darted off. And perhaps she was, or perhaps she wasn't. Ignorance, as they said, was bliss. Amaranth had no need for strength, anymore; everything ran on instinct and nature, pure desire and want. She had learned not to fear death, pain, tragedy ... and if you did not fear those things, you did not need the strength to overcome them.

But perhaps she would need strength now.
To protect Valeska.
To protect what they had.

But still, she ran, leaping through the banks of snow that seemed to slap her in the face as she moved, blinding her in that sterling white color. Despite the heat in her chest, she could feel the numbness in her paws that began to crawl up her tendons toward her joints. There was an enveloping ache that began to grip at her, and it debilitated her movements after a moment. Not that she needed to move that quickly — she knew Valeska would catch her, that much was inevitable.

But what she didn't expect was the sheer power with which she would be caught.

Valeska's shorter frame barreled into her like a freight train, taking the golden woman off of her stilts in a mere matter of seconds. The velocity of the impact sent her shuttering forward, off of the twisted trail that would have leaned to the left. Her long body paraglided toward the edge of the cliff, through a thicket of trees and between the stumps as she began to roll. Disorientation overtook her. Up was down, left was right. Snow was everywhere — burning her eyes and her nose and catching in her throat. The earth bounced against her, slapping her in the chest and stealing the very wind from her lungs as she cascaded into the white void. The abyss of snow. The depths of winter consuming her.

Somewhere in the distance she heard a howl — joyous or not, she couldn't comprehend. All she could do was wonder if it would end, and where she would be. Would she awaken in the plains again? Was there a second purgatory?

And then a final bump threw her upward, up out of the snow for a few shining moments that seemed to flutter by in slow motion. The sun hit her directly in the face, blinding her, but she managed to see the sky from between her flailing limbs. And then she fell to the ground — hard. Gravity tucked her back to earth, and her body collided with the lower banks at the base of the slope, like a child thrown from a sled. As she skidded to a halt, her body grew unusually still for a few moments, the numbness of her limbs the only reminder that she was, in fact, still alive. Her mortal frame had not been taken from her, at least not yet. And at least not for Valeska's lack of trying.

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In the infinite span of time that passed during their descent, Valeska had time to think. It all seemed so impossible. The last few months had flown by in a blur of activity and adventure and new faces all around - who could have known that dying in the world before would open up so many new paths? She always thought death meant peace and quiet in the afterlife, a final chance to rest in the light of the gods eternal.

In their previous land of Ruhe, their pack - then claiming Hiraeth's Temple as home - consisted of only a scant few members, wolves who happened upon each other by mere chance and grew their bonds through shared loneliness and time. Harper, Buckeye, Gwyn, Amaranth, and herself - almost like a strange mirror to the Five themselves, each one as vitally important as the other, representing different facets of the same ideal. Harper, as fearless and competitive as Sylvanus; Buckeye, playful and fiery like Rhys; Gwyn, as observant and careful as Nivia; Amaranth, as solitary and aloof like Aether. Valeska was hesitant to describe herself as one close to Houtu, the All-Mother, but she couldn't deny that the role she played among the others was similar. She was the link that had bound them all together, the founder of Elysium itself.

But this was before. Now their numbers had grown, and though she loved to reminisce, the way was forward. They were no longer just the Five - they were double their former number, and though some may come and others may leave, things would never be as simple as they were.

She didn't need them to be.

Amaranth's endless amethyst eyes passed across her vision as the golden wolf floated by in slow-motion on her way to the bottom, and Valeska smiled warmly, her heart swelling with love as the woman once again faded from view as they continued to gain speed.

What a treasure.

Now, for the uninitiated, it bears mentioning that although Amaranth was much taller than her stocky counterpart, she was lean - and likely weighed about as much as a raven's feather by comparison.

Valeska, however, was built to endure.

Solidly, heavily, the short little woman quickly overtook her companion down the slope and caught only a fleeting glimpse of distressed gold before her vision exploded in a cloud of glittering snowflakes, and then - darkness.

---

Gentle pressure and the scent of lavender.

Snorting powder out from her nose, Valeska tried to stand up, but found herself impeded by a strange weight resting on top of her and an all-encompassing darkness. It wasn't particularly heavy, and coupled with the familiar smell, she quickly deduced what it was.
“Amara?” she called faintly from beneath the snow. “Amara, are you - are you alright?” Not hearing an answer, the little wolf began wriggling, snake-like, until her nose breached the surface and she was at last able to breathe the crisp open air.

The nose rotated slightly, following the source of the lavender-scent.

“I believe that I have won, Amara,” it spoke, a lonely little white snout thrust out from the earth toward the open sky. “I have reached the bottom first.”

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For a few, still moments, there was nothing. It was a silence that was as deafening as a storm; nothing but the soft rustle of the wind through the frost-coated pines. Amaranth's head was spinning, leaving her body whirring with slowly-resolving dizziness that lingered for far too many moments. Heavy eyelids blinked open, shy against the sun as her head slowly lifted from the thin blanket of white powder. Her encompassing gaze turned left, right, and left again, hungrily searching the landscape for that familiar silver form. But all she could see was dancing snow for miles on end.

"Valeska?" Her voice touched the air with an unusual level of trepidation. Surely, Valeska had come down the hill, too?

As her body began to power on again, she noticed an odd ... texture beneath her feet? Wait. Snow didn't have texture. Or warmth. "Amara?" A familiar voice sounded from the depths, returning her call. It was muffled against the weight of her golden body, and it did not take long for the realization to kick in. It was then that she realized that she'd flown through the air only to land atop her counterpart. Glistening eyes widened, pupils, dilating for a moment as she scrambled off the vibrating, living pile of snow. "Amara are you - are you alright?"  Of course, Valeska would care not for her own crushed form, but instead for Amaranth. The golden woman was, of course, a bit more fragile. But, she supposed she was alright, considering she'd just been tossed off the side of a cliff.

"I believe that I have won, Amara. I have reached the bottom first."

A smile rose to Amaranth's lips as that cute little muzzle poked through the grave of snow. Eyes narrowed with an unseen, devious playfulness as her golden mitts swept away the snow that covered Valeska's face. Lavender eyes caught a glimpse of those warm golden pools, and she melted all over again. "Trying to get rid of me already, are you?" The smile on her lips matched the tone in her eyes, the quip rolling easily off her tongue in those eerie, airy vocals.

Valeska, however, would never be rid of Amaranth. For once Amaranth sunk her teeth into something, she did not let go.

"You can have this victory," she murmured offhandedly, eyes glimmering as her nose lowered to press into Valeska's muzzle. She lingered there for but a tantalizingly brief moment, inhaling that scent of pine and exhaling against her with warm, lavender-scented breath. Lips smiled softly, a mere glimmer of ivory fangs glinting against the clouded light as her eyes swirled ... enigmatic and radiating with energy. "But I will have this one," her words were but a tender whisper, moving the fur along Valeska's muzzle as the breathily escaped her lips. Electricity sparked between them as her muzzle rubbed slowly against the other...

... and then, without warning, as her muzzle lifted back into the cold air ... she slid over and slapped her rump down right atop the snow where Valeska's body was buried, sitting her weight directly atop Valeska's buried frame. That Cheshire smile peeped back down at Valeska's little round face, reveling for those short moments in her victory before that stocky frame would inevitably lift her into the air.

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As her companion scrabbled in a hurry to get off, a faint grunting sound could be heard distantly beneath the snow as Valeska's stocky frame was further jostled and stepped upon. Still, it was no matter. She would endure suffering immeasurable if it served to improve or elevate Amaranth's existence in some manner. As the golden apparition's weight left the living heap of frost, the little wolf at last found her opportunity to wriggle out from her chilly prison and-

Soft, lavender-scented paws suddenly came into view, dusting the snow away from her head so that she might blink in the sparkling sunlight once again. While the rest of her remained imprisoned, at least she could see their surroundings.

'Trying to get rid of me already, are you?' came the fairy-like tones of her counterpart, the words drifting languidly through the air to settle pertinently atop her snout. Valeska snorted as if she might blow them away. The sauce of this woman.

Before she could retort, Amaranth had already knelt down, serpent-like, brushing her ebony lips against the tender part of her muzzle, sending shivers down her spine and igniting her from within. So ferociously did she begin to sweat, she could swear the snow was melting around her. “A-Amara, I-” the silver wolf stuttered, for once at a loss for words. As her lover continued to bathe her in gentle caresses, Valeska sought vainly to return the favor, but she remained stuck fast and unable to turn her neck at the correct angle - so there she stayed, trapped, miserable.

Absolutely miserable.

As she lamented whichever of the Five she had sinned against to deserve such a grievous punishment - alas and alack, forced to endure the loving ministrations of a beautiful woman! Such despair! - she heaved a defeated sigh, allowing Amaranth to savor her 'victory' (although Valeska had, indeed, reached the bottom first).
“You cheat,” Valeska scoffed through heavy-lidded eyes. It's not like she was enjoying it or anything, she thought petulantly, at the same time that a soft, feminine sigh escaped her lips. “I am bound, trapped. You have no honor! неблагодарный лось! — Ungrateful moose!”

As soon as the words left her lips, the golden-clad woman seemed to at last relent, rising to step away from her victim and allow her the freedom to try and dig herself out.

“Amara what the shi-”

Whumpf.

That harlot.

Snarling playfully, she mustered up all of her significant strength and exploded violently out from the snow in a flurry of glittering ice, and in the moment their vision was obscured she turned to heave herself toward the upended Amaranth in an intended tackle.

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The way her touches elicited that soft shudder ... it was intoxicating. Electricity coursing from nose to cheek, the soft stutter of her name in the quiet air. The power she held over the other ... undeniable. She devoured it, breathing in that soft scent of melting pine through eager nostrils as she enveloped Valeska in her presence. Soaking her.

But Amaranth, too, was intoxicated. Undeniably.
So much so that she could simply ... sink her teeth in.

And it tingled, radiating from the pit of her stomach through the hollows of her bones. But instead, she only breathed, softly and purposefully inhaling that invigorating bite of mint. It was all she could do to prevent herself from testing that flesh with her aching fangs. But she knew better. And she would never threaten her relationship for such carnal instincts. Valeska was more than carnal pleasure. She was sensation, beauty, light; everything. She was love.

And she awoke something new in Amaranth. Simple pleasures. Joy. Laughter.

Feeling ...
Feeling beyond that of the necessity of pain and curiosity that kept her fragile soul melded to this plane of existence.

“Amara what the shi-” Laughter. And laugh she did as her rump slapped down upon the living snow pile beneath her, the tones as equally eerie as they were sincere. Sharp, ermine fangs glimmered as brightly as the snow in those few moments before the expected surge roused beneath her. The snow came to life, that stocky body erupting with the sharpness of a falling icicle. The snarl tore from dark lips as that silver frame toppled her over, pushing her easily into the plush blanket of snow beneath her.

It was not long before the tides were turned, the flurry of snow wrapping around Amaranth like shackles as the stockier frame of her counterpart easily overcame her, pressing her into the pressed bed of powder. "Alright, alright," she sputtered between bites of snow, waving her forepaws around aimlessly at the air and batting at Valeska. And as she quieted, her deep purple eyes looked up toward those shimmering pools of familiar gold. And she blinked slowly. "You've won, my Valeska," she conceded lightly, soft voice an ethereal whisper against the breeze. And for certain, she had. Amaranth had been battered, forced to pounce through the snow, and sent cascading down the side of a mountain. Tackled, battered, bruised. Loved. And her body lay, now realizing its exhaustion now, completely at the mercy of the other.

But what Valeska forgot, was that Amaranth did not sleep.

And she had a devious imagination that could conjure ... many tricks.

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As the writhing form of her counterpart ceased its struggling, long limbs falling helplessly to the ground, Valeska couldn't help the smug grin that crept up her features. She wasn't normally the vindictive sort, being more straightforward and turn-the-other-cheek in her day to day, but it was nice to let loose and play like a child again. What they had together felt truly innocent; as pure as snow, white and clean and unblemished. She could not lie to her, she could not say or do her harm - she couldn't even fathom the idea of being angry with her. It was foreign. Impossible.

What could Amaranth ever do to incite fury in another? She was blameless.

Valeska giggled mischievously and gave a teasing nuzzle, burying her chilly nose in the golden ruff of her lover. “Я люблю тебя, моя сияющая звезда,” — "I love you, my shining star." she said tenderly, secretly, muffled against her fur. The scent of lavender.

It was the best smell in the world.

She rolled off to the side and rose at last, granting Amaranth her freedom. The silver wolf huffed and shook out her coat, sending clumps of snow flying in every direction (though careful not to dust her companion any more than she already had), and heaved a contented sigh. “I am happy you came here,” she said affectionately, her eyes softening. “It meant much to me. You, however, look like frozen icicle. Suppose we must get you back home to warm up.”

Wagging her tail, she turned and motioned for Amaranth to follow. “Maybe we catch dinner along the way, no? Very romantic!”

The afternoon sun parted the clouds, and a brilliant light shone through, illuminating the golden woman like liquid fire. Lying against the snow with half-lidded eyes, the scene seemed almost painterly; Amaranth's charcoal lips a thin, elegant line, the taper of her neck, the tufts of fur that curved up from the tips of her ears.

She was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

{Exit Valeska}

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