there'll be oats in the water

[singmod]

JULY 2024 EVENT

PROMPT ONE — THE AURORA: REDUX: A storm finally arrives, and with it — Enola extends her hand to help the Interlopers once more, granting them new abilities.

PROMPT TWO — PENSIVE LOOKOUT: With the Forest Talker efforts focused on sabotaging hunting efforts, Interlopers can attempt to explore the Pensive Lookout Tower, where they can uncover secrets from the diary of Sam Bouchard — the former firewatch worker of the summer of 2014.

PROMPT THREE — A PEEK INSIDE: A group of Interlopers get their hands on one of the Forest Talkers in search of answers — and get a little more than they bargained for.

THE AURORA: REDUX

WHEN: Mid-month, for three days.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural/extreme weather; lightning storms; potentially disturbing dreams; dreams of being trapped in ice; dreams of animal death; dreams of the death of loved ones.


July brings warmer weather. The fog has lifted, and the daylight returned — but an odd kind of pressure lingers in the air, the kind that feels similar with oncoming storms but something still feels off about it all. Measurements and readings are erratic, with them often making little sense. It’s hard to predict just what might be coming, but sure enough something is coming.

Hold on a little longer, Enola told you. A storm is coming.

It comes quickly, the gathering of storm clouds. At first, it looks as if a kind of snowstorm is moving in, but there’s something else at play here. Within the grey, cloudy skies, there is a tell-tale sound of an Aurora mixed within those clouds.

And with it, in amongst the dark, the swirling colours. Greens, pinks and purples weaving through the clouds, almost mesmerising to watch. The air is alive with sound: static noise, cracks and pops: a storm and the Aurora mixed into one. For those who’ve been here long enough, it’s a worrying, unnerving sight. The storm rumbles with the low roar of distant thunder, growing ever closer. The electronics of the world begin to come alive, and in the static of it all — you begin to hear Enola’s voice even clearer than before.

After so much darkness, now there is so much light. A lightning storm — aurora colours mingling with the grey clouds, punctured with crackles of lightning. Something powerful and strange — flash forking across the skies, followed by booms of thunder.

The storm lasts three days, and even though her voice is soft — you hear it over all the noise, nestled gently in your ear.

“You're still here. It means something. This isn’t the end, I refuse to let it be the end. It can’t win. You won’t go into the Dark.” Enola tells you. ”I will make you more than what you are, more than what was stolen from you. This place will not be your end. I have to try. We have to try. Together. I showed some of you, once. I’ll show you again.”

She tells you to sleep. For some, they recognise this and realise what may end up happening. For others it feels like going out on a limb. But you sleep, and perhaps a dream may come to you.

COLD FUSION: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream of a great hall of ice: as if it had been carved into some great ridge of it. You walk through it, marvelling at the beauty of it — a blue gloom, echoing with each of your footsteps. But as you take one particular step, the ground cracks and collapses beneath you, sending you into dark, frozen waters. In seconds, the water freezes around you, encompassing you in thick ice, your entire body trapped within it. The coldness burns you, and you are stuck there — frozen in agony. The pain is immeasurable, your entire body crushed and searing from the ice. There is no escape, no reprieve.

A voice speaks to you, perhaps it is the voice of a stranger, perhaps it is the voice of someone you know: Do you know how you survive the cold?’ They ask you. You do not know, and you wait for the answer: ‘You become colder than it.

Your eyes close. You believe those words, you do. You must become colder than the cold itself. And so you will. Your breathing slows, your heart slows and the cold… it stops hurting, it doesn’t burn. The ice around you begins the crack.

When you awaken the first thing you realise is despite the temperature, you are completely cosy and warmed. You do not feel the slightest chill. It is perhaps only once you are around other than you truly notice the difference to you — you are cold to the touch, lacking the heat you once had. An understanding comes: you are at one with the cold, it will not beat you, it will not cause you agony. Winter is at peace within you: perfect Cold Fusion.

MOON TOUCHED: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream of running through the silent woods at night. The moon is full above you, the air is calm and still. Hunger draws you forward, everything is so sharp and vivid in your senses, even in this dreamscape. You hear the crispness of the snow beneath your feet, smell the scent of the pines on the air, feel how warm you are against the coldness around you.

The snuffling of a rabbit catches your attention, and you swiftly leap after it, jaws opening and closing around its neck as you capture it. You bite down hard, feeling the crunch of its bones as they break, the sweet coppery taste of blood filling your mouth and nose. You lift your head towards the stars, blood on your tongue. You realise you are not a person at all, but a beast on all fours: a wolf, content and filling your belly with meat.

You wonder, for a brief moment: were you ever a person at all?

You do not know the answer to the question. You do not seem to worry about such a thing but there’s a flash of warning on the air. Something you cannot quite place, but you know that you should not forget it.

When you awaken, you feel… different, somehow. Everything seems a little sharper, as if the world around you had been dull, or behind some pane of frosted glass. With it comes a strange balance of calmness and chaos, tameness and wildness, fear and bravery. You find yourself looking for the moon in the skies and when you finally find it, it hits you — this is what it means to be Moon Touched.

INTERLOPER’S SACRIFICE: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape and then fade into nothing. You dream of kneeling in a darkened, charred wood. You are not alone. In this dreamscape, you dream of a loss, or a time you have never felt more helpless in your life. Perhaps it is when someone you knew died before you, or you stood as someone was sick and injured and you were unable to do a thing. As you kneel, they are there with you: sick or dying or even dead in your arms. You cannot do anything but hold them, and the helplessness is overwhelming.

You look up and a woman in furs stands before you, her expression solemn. Enola herself. There are tears in her eyes, as if she shares the very pain you do: the loss, the grief, the hopelessness, the powerlessness. She approaches you and lowers herself to kneel in front of you and your companion, bracing your shoulders for a long, lingering moment. There are no words, none from neither of you.

Enola shifts slightly, leans forwards. She kisses your forehead, much like when a parent kisses their child: sweet and tender.

And then you feel it, as if you are set alight: an agonising pain that encompasses you whole — so painful you cannot even open your mouth to scream. You feel yourself growing weak, the corners of your vision blurring into black. It feels as if you might die from the pain, and you want for it to stop but it doesn’t.

Enola pulls away and you gasp, slumping in exhaustion, but still alive, somehow. You stare at her, sweating and clamouring for breath, and she offers you a sad smile. Never again. you feel the words inside of you. This time, it will be different. Better.

When you awaken, you can still feel the kiss upon your forehead — enough to make your fingers reach up to touch it, your entire body tingling a little. A small voice in the back of your mind whispers, reminding you as you find yourself looking down at your hands: never again. Never again, you tell yourself and the comprehension comes to you: you have chosen. This is what it means to be: this is your sacrifice. The Interloper’s Sacrifice.

NOTHING: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape, but only for a moment. The edges of your vision begin the blur with black, slowly closing in until everything goes dark and you fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. You awaken, and although you feel rested, as if the dreamless darkness has helped you feel a little more ready to take on the day — nothing else about you has changed.

PENSIVE LOOKOUT

WHEN: The month of July.
WHERE: Pensive Lookout Tower, Lakeside.
CONTENT WARNINGS: themes of survival; possible fall injuries/treacherous climbs; themes of terror; themes of diminished sanity; themes of starvation.

The Old Hunting Lodge is located in the southern-most area of Lakeside, and its surrounding area is generally considered no-go territory with the presence of the Forest Talkers. As June turned into July, the Forest Talker’s presence in the wilds of Lakeside has begun to grow again — but their efforts appear to be focused on sabotaging the efforts of Interlopers, Methuselah and Young Bill in hunting fresh game. If anything, it could mean that with attentions drawn away — perhaps the braver sorts of the Interlopers can explore the area a little more fully.

There’s little in terms of buildings of interest in this area. The wilderness is thick and deep here. Perhaps the odd ransacked cabin once belonging to a local may be stumbled across — its contents picked clean, presumably by the Forest Talkers. Many of these buildings will be completely inhabitable due to the damage done — with some cabins being razed to the ground.

However, on higher ground, with a good hike to access it, stands a watch tower.

These lookout towers could mean a number of things: a chance to access supplies that may have otherwise been forgotten about due to the hike to get up there, a better view of the surrounding area, and the possibility of a radio — given the sign of a radio transmitter that can be found blinking a feeble red on Aurora nights.

With the snow on the ground it’s a little more treacherous, but given the circumstances, anything’s worth a shot, right? Those who attempt the hike may fall foul to slips and trips along the steep slow to reach the tower, and should take care in the ascent. Even with the warmth of July, it’s difficult. One might hope this might make the place a decent outpost, if you think about it. Somewhere hard to reach, and with such a vantage point.

Reaching the tower and climbing it to its interior will it largely intact but a mess. Someone has lived here for some time. Interlopers will find no food here, but some useful tools that belonged to the lookout: binoculars, maps, a compass, an alidade. There is even a radio sat upon a desk, and with it — a journal.

The journal, Interlopers will find, belonged to a man named Sam Bouchard — the firewatcher for the season during the previous year, detailing the months of his arrival and ending in November last year. It is unknown what happened to Sam, but his journal will perhaps offer some insight and even some information.

A PEEK INSIDE

WHEN: The month of July.
WHERE: The Gas Station, Milton.
CONTENT WARNINGS: themes of kidnapping; imprisonment; self-starvation; blood/minor injuries; psychological torment, supernatural abilities.

The Forest Talkers have a long history in the Northern Territories, long before Interlopers started arriving in Milton. Champions of nature, they have sought to put an end to the industries and tourism-related expansions in the Lakeside area, first peacefully and then… not-so-peacefully. But with the events known as the ‘The Flare’ last year, Forest Talkers have been… acting peculiarly, disturbingly, aggressively.

There are plenty of questions to be asked. But the Forest Talkers are difficult to communicate with. Previous attempts have ended up in aggression or being ignored entirely. And now, even with the events of the previous month coming to an end — game remains difficult to find, and Forest Talkers are keen on sabotaging any attempts of hunting made by Interlopers, Young Bill or Methuselah. And more importantly: what is the yawning grave?

It starts as mutterings between tired and disgruntled Interlopers. They need answers, and there’s got to be a way in trying to get some. They’re hungry and exhausted and so many of their numbers are now dead. Those mutterings grow, and soon enough a plan is put into place. A small group of Interlopers embark into Lakeside and wait.

Soon enough, it bears fruit. A man is captured, bound and blindfolded — quietly and secretly brought back to Milton to be held up in the unused Gas Station to be questioned. It is not the leader, but surely one of them is better than no one at all. He is injured, but not enough to kill him. It will prove challenging in trying to get answers out of him, but soon enough the Interlopers will get him to talk.

News of the Forest Talker in their midst will inevitably spread, as most things do in small communities. Secrets are hard to guard. It won’t be just those behind the kidnapping who might end up coming across the man being held in the Gas Station.

Anyone who goes to investigate will find the man sat on the floor in quiet contemplation. Attempts of conversation will be met with long, silent stares — holding your gaze for an uncomfortably long time. He will spurn any gestures of kindness: spit on the floor at Interloper’s feet, refuse any food offered — as if the man has chosen to starve himself in protest. He says nothing, at first.

But after some time, he will look into an Interloper’s eyes and utter something. A word. A phrase. It may be a name, or a place. It may be a specific thing an Interloper has read, or been spoken to by someone. Something that holds meaning to the Interloper. It may be the name of a loved one from home, or the last words ever spoken to you by a friend. Something the man shouldn’t know.

Whatever it is that he speaks to you, it is not something that will fill you with hope or fondness to remember — but quite the opposite. A reminder of something painful, of a loss, or some other thing that caused you misery. As if he had reached right inside your mind and plucked some painful part of your past from you and spoken it to the wind.

The Forest Talker smiles, and will say nothing else. The damage has already been done.

FAQs

THE AURORA: REDUX

1. The next three Aurora Feats are unlocked! Please see the following page for more information.

2. Aurora Feats are completely optional.

3. Interlopers will only receive ONE Aurora Feat. The only time this is available is this month. After July, players will have to wait for the next Feat round for another chance at an Aurora Feat.

4. This Aurora/storm will last a full three days, darkening the skies almost to night.

PENSIVE LOOKOUT

1. Interlopers who dwell in the lookout for the next Aurora will find the radio works, albeit poorly. They will be able to pick up the same broken morse code message.

2. There are no signs of blood/injury that befell Sam in the lookout. It appears he made good on what he wrote on in his journal and attempted to leave to get to Silverpoint.

A PEEK INSIDE

1. While only a small number was involved in the kidnapping itself, anyone can discover the fact there's a Forest Talker being held in Milton.

2. In terms of appearance, the Forest Talker is very much your typical average white guy. Bearded, weathered by the cold, someone who's lived several years without much in the way of comforts or luxuries.

PLOTTING POST

Comments

[bigbaddy]

Totally fine.

[ It's an answer without hesitation, and he doesn't remove his hand from her arm. ]

For example-- rabbit tastes pretty great. I could get you one sometime. [ Because it's not like he's going to tell her to hunt one as a wolf right away. Snow is clearly overwhelmed, and.. Bigby gets that she'll have to ease into this.

Even if there's one aspect of this entire wolf thing that he feels like he has to address with her right now. It feels too important to not do it. It does feel like it might be a little too much for her right now, but-- better for her to know than for her to find out much later and potentially be even more mortified, right?

Because Bigby can't imagine Snow feeling anything but mortified at this particular reveal. ]

But.. about what happened out there.

[ Hence why he starts on this, slowly pulling his hand off her and back towards himself. ]

Did you realize what you were doing? [ It's a bit of a vague question, yes, but he doesn't want to make it too leading of a question by being more specific. Bigby has to know just.. what was up with that back there. It can't be that Snow really is that into him, so..

Wolf instinct, probably?

But he might as well ask. He might as well see what she's got to say - hoping, meanwhile, that he looks a whole lot calmer than his rapidly beating heart makes him feel like. ]

[powersuited]

[ Snow's instinctive reaction is to chuckle — she can recognize his offer of rabbit for what it is, an attempt to make her feel less self-conscious about the weird, unexpected instincts she's suddenly forced to navigate — but his follow-up does give her pause, not the least of which is because she suddenly notices the absence of his touch on her, the lack of it that doesn't quite make her bristle, but still guard herself against whatever he's about to say next. ]

What about it?

[ Confusion blossoms over her features when he asks her whether or not she was aware of what she'd been doing, but her first instinct is to shake her head. Of course she hadn't realized, not when all of this is completely untrod territory on her side. ]

Why, did I do something wrong?

[ Leave it to her to, in her lack of awareness, initiate something that would be considered a major wolf faux pas, especially when Bigby hadn't been in a position to tell her otherwise. Neither of them had uttered a word, but from what she'd been able to perceive at the time, everything had felt... fine. Right, even. She hadn't even thought to question it because of that.

But the longer she looks at Bigby, the more pleading her gaze becomes. ]

Tell me. Please. If it's... I want to know.

[bigbaddy]

It's not-- [ He opens his mouth, quickly wanting to reassure her, but having to think about his exact wording here halfway through speaking up. ] It's not exactly wrong.

[ It's wrong in the sense that he thinks Snow wouldn't have wanted to do that if she had known what it meant when she did it - but it's not like there's anything objectively wrong about it that she should be worrying about otherwise.

He gives her arm a reassuring pat, but then finally does pull his hand back. ]

Remember what you did to me, right before we headed back? You were scenting me. [ Truthfully, he's not all that sure just how much or how little Snow knows about the natural world. The animals she dealt with probably were very different from wolves.. ] That's something wolves do, rubbing themselves against the other to try and get their scent on the other wolf. They do it when they're..

[ ...

This is the difficult part of the explanation, isn't it. Mostly in the sense that it's taking him a lot of effort to not start blushing at this. Not like Bigby is a prude, but-- he's still saying this to her of all people. To the one person he'd want to be together with like that. ]

You know. When they're a couple, I mean.

[ See what he meant now by not exactly wrong, Snow? Maybe it is a social faux pas in a sense, but Bigby doesn't mind it one bit.

(He kind of wonders if other people would be able to smell her on him now.) ]

[powersuited]

Not exactly?

[ Snow's not feeling entirely comforted by that answer, especially since it sounds like Bigby is trying to couch his words in a certain way so that she doesn't immediately freak out. Joke's on him; she can already feel her blood pressure spiking, her mind racing as she tries to think back to being out there in the woods, surrounded by so many overwhelming scents and sounds and at the mercy of all of them thanks to her stronger senses. Bigby had been the only thing powerful enough to override all of that, a constant point to fix her attention on, rather than embracing the temptation to bury her nose in the snow and try to drown it out.

She has to replay their meeting out in the woods in her head, parsing through each individual beat that she'd only embraced instinctively before. Greeting Bigby the way she had, playing with him, rubbing herself against him — it had all felt normal and fine and right in the moment, but apparently, whatever she had done with him is only meant to be done if —

Snow's eyes widen, first in surprise and then in concern, as she looks down at herself, wearing his shirt, his clothes, and then back up at Bigby, and before she can second-guess it she's already leaning in, closing some of the distance between them so she can sniff the air around him, trying to suss out if what he's saying is true and he actually does smell like her now. ]

You're saying I... initiated... some kind of wolf mating thing. With you.

[bigbaddy]

[ There's a slight, affirmative hum, followed by a nod of Bigby's head.

Leaning in like this, Snow might be able to pick up on the scent. Not as easily as she'd be able to in wolf form, but considering how strong their respective scents are and how different both of those are, it's easy to at least pick up on the fact that there's definitely something else mixing with Bigby's usual scent of heavy smoke and cigarettes. Something that smells more like Snow.

Bigby doesn't actually verbally add anything. Not at first, anyway. He's not sure what to say, especially since he doesn't want to say the wrong thing and chase her away entirely. All of this feels so precarious right now - like they're at a limit, a border, and Bigby isn't sure which way they'll fall. ]

.. It's alright. [ He slowly manages.

But what else does he say. I don't mind? Sure, it'd be the truth, but it might also reveal a little bit too much, especially when Snow might not take that as just nonchalance, when she might look into his eyes and see the truth behind that statement.

So there's another moment of hesitation, and then: ]

You don't have to worry about it.

[ Better. More neutral. He first has to see Snow's reaction to all of this before he can say more, and he hopes that there words will at least lessen her potential panic if she sees he isn't freaking out about it. ]

[powersuited]

[ The thing is, Bigby's scent is something Snow already recognizes — that brand of cigarettes she almost can't stand paired with remnants of whiskey and occasionally a strong cup of coffee. Now, however, she can perceive the dimensions in it, layers — the smell of the wilderness that seems to live amid the rest of it, the truest part of his nature that lurks underneath the surface of the more obvious notes. She knows she wouldn't be able to tell as much without these strange powers she has now, but it gives her a different perspective on what she might have successfully overlooked before.

Now, however, the closer she lingers, the more she can tell that he is covered in another scent, one distinctly different from anything she would ever affiliate with him, and there's no other way to describe it in her head other than a certainty that it's her.

Bigby's words are reassuring — initially, that is, but when he says what he does next, Snow balks, rearing back with a look of minute surprise that quickly dissolves into a dry, disbelieving chuckle. ]

That's the thing, Bigby; I'm not worried. Even knowing that I've essentially... marked you in some way, the only thought I keep having is that I don't want to leave. Like I'm right where I'm supposed to be, here with you, and anything else would just feel... wrong.

[ He looks steadier about this than she is, and it is comforting in its own way, but it also has the side effect of making her want to curl up against him until all of her anxieties are quieted, until her inner wolf thumping its tail restlessly against the floor finally relaxes and goes still. ]

And how can you be so calm? Is this even something you would've wanted? [ Snow hooks teeth into her lower lip, trying to figure out the best way to say this next part. ] ... A mate?

[bigbaddy]

[ Snow!! Please, talk about putting a guy on the spot.. The question by itself would have been difficult enough, but when it's coming right after her saying those things it feels like he's been punched in the face right after being kicked in the stomach. How is he supposed to say anything at all when she's saying that she feels like she's supposed to be here with him?

This is torture. It's got to be. If Bigby didn't know better, he'd imagine this was something this place was doing to him.

But Snow is acting too much like herself - even while she's confused about all of this - for him to believe it's just this place imitating her. It's still her.

Bigby is uncharacteristically quiet for a few moments after that question. He just.. truly doesn't know how to answer. He's never been in this position before, considering Snow is the only person he's ever thought of when he did think of having a mate. His gaze goes all over the place, just to avoid having to look directly at her right now. ]

I mean, it's..

[ What is it?

Sure, he knows what it is. But what he does he want to tell her? How much can he say? He can't just say sure, I've been wanting that with you ever since I first met you like some creep. Snow has had enough creeps in her life. ]

It's easy to be calm when it's you doing it, Snow. [ God, he's really hoping this is the right thing to say here. He's trying to tell the truth, while also not being too forward about it.

Let her interpret it however she wants it, especially when Bigby isn't fully sure yet of where her feelings lie. ]

You're the person I trust more than anyone, both here and back home. You know that, right?

[powersuited]

[ Snow can tell, right away, that she's putting him on the spot — maybe forcing him to have the kind of conversation that he wouldn't have ever planned on having, and with her in particular. She's not even sure if the topic of mates is taboo, at least within the wolf sphere of things, because all of this is so new to her that it still feels like she's fumbling her way through it.

But she doesn't seem to have offended him with the whole marking business — even if she still suspects he's being polite in an effort not to hurt her feelings — and the more he talks, the better she feels about it. She might end up looking for a way to unmark him, if such a thing is even possible, but at least she hasn't overstepped in a way that could prove irreparable for them, or impossible to get past.

Her shoulders slacken a bit more with relief and understanding when he says what he does, reemphasizes his trust in her. Yes, she wants to answer, yes, you get it, you know what I'm talking about when I say that this isn't actually the worst thing that could've happened to us. But she doesn't; instead, she reaches out, wordlessly at first, to take his hand in her own. ]

I do. And I trust you, too. That's why this is — why this feels... okay.

[ Maybe she wouldn't go so far as to assert them as mates, or act like she has any proprietary rights over him now that she's left her scent on him, but it could be that this will only help, in the long run. He's so protective of her that establishing this connection might even put him at ease, too — although that brings her to another thought, one she poses aloud to him without really thinking about it. ]

Do I — am I wearing your scent now, too?

[bigbaddy]

Probably not. Maybe a little. [ They were all over each other out there in the snow, after all, so it's pretty much impossible for him to not have left even the slightest bit of scent on her. But Bigby knows it's the sort of thing that will fade rather quickly, since he didn't go out of his way to mark her. Hell, if anything, he went out of his way to make sure he didn't even get close to doing that, since the last thing he wants is for Snow to have that sort of thing forced upon her.

.. even if she doesn't seem too bothered by the entire thing now she's got the explanation for it. Bigby wants to read more in that, but he tries to prevent himself from doing so. It feels like just setting himself up for disappointment.

Instead he thinks about her question a little more, and when he speaks up, he first glances down at the way she's holding his hand before moving his gaze back up to her face. ]

.. unless you want to?

[ H-Haha, that's a vague question, right. He can totally play it off if she's averse to the idea. Clearly he doesn't mean anything by that, it's fine!! ]

[powersuited]

[ Even though Snow does feel like her senses are stronger, her ability to process her surroundings more heightened, there's almost too much to focus on sometimes, not to mention the risk of something pulling her attention when she least expects it to — she also has the sensation of sinking too quickly in the overwhelm, and rather than allow herself to drown, she's reaching out to grab onto something that can steady her.

The question is fair, when it comes, but what she's less prepared for is the fact that she doesn't balk at the idea; just like the confirmation that he's wearing her scent now, she's not disturbed by the concept of offering him the same in exchange.

Yet she's a little tentative about it, almost giving him more of a sidelong glance, drawing a breath before she speaks out of a desire to not appear too forward. ]

Well... it would only be fair, wouldn't it? And maybe it would look less suspicious, if we... if it wasn't just one-sided.

[bigbaddy]

[ Asking the question was kind of a long shot already. Bigby certainly didn't expect Snow to agree with it - he was just hoping that maybe she might not seem too put off about it even if she'd refuse.

Her agreeing was not even on the Bingo card he was working with here. And sure, she isn't linking it to anything romantic, he can tell that much from what she's saying, but..

.. it's still something.

It's still her being connected to him in some way. And her not minding it. And all of that despite the fact that he knows Snow is so guarded, especially when it comes to men. ]

Well-- If you're sure.

[ Like it isn't something Bigby desperately wants. ]

I wouldn't mind doing it for you. And besides, I.. [ .. no, he can't say what he really does want to say here.

But what he can say here, is-- ]

I'm glad you're partially a wolf too now, Snow. I know it must be a lot for you, but for me it's.. It's kind of nice, actually.

[powersuited]

[ Snow knows, deep down, how much it takes for Bigby to even admit to something like this — to admit to what something means to him. Like her, he's guarded in his own way, each of them having been burned in the past, but where Snow has been reluctant to embark on anything having to do with men given her own less-than-desirable experiences, she's not even sure she's ever gotten the slightest sense that Bigby has even wanted anything lasting with someone, let alone pursued it.

And, for not the first time since she started getting to know him, really know him, she wonders whether he's actually pretty lonely.

She's still holding his hand, and she glances down at that shared clasping as her thumb reflexively sweeps over his skin. ]

It is a lot. I'm fully prepared to admit that. But I feel like it would be even worse if you weren't around.

[ Not just because he can help her with everything that's strange and new and unfamiliar about changing, but because they can help each other feel less alone, too. She straightens, then, drawing in a soft breath as her eyes find his again. ]

So... what's the best way for us to do this?

[bigbaddy]

We'll have to change back again.

[ Could he do it in this form while they are both now technically wolves - again, in his case? Bigby isn't sure, but that definitely seems a little bit too intimate for Snow. It's probably more comfortable for her if he does it the same way for her as she did for him.

He slowly pulls his hand out of hers - almost reluctantly, like he doesn't want to lose the touch. ]

I'll let you use this room. [ Because transforming back also means taking off their clothes. You know, if they don't want to ruin them. ] I'll go change in the living room, so-- I'll see you outside after that, alright?

[ He gives her a small, hopefully reassuring smile before leaving the room to give her some privacy. Maybe just a touch too eager, but-- can you blame a guy when he's getting to do this with the woman he's had a crush on forever? When it means he'll be able to protect Snow better in this place?

Apparently Bigby has transformed so quickly - or maybe it's just that he's more used to it, able to do it easier - that by the time Snow goes outside, Bigby is already standing there in the same wolf form as before, waiting for her. ]

[powersuited]

… oh.

[ Well, now she feels a little silly for asking — because what had she been expecting Bigby to do, rub himself up against her while they’re standing in front of each other on two legs? Of course it makes more sense for it to happen while they’re already transformed; maybe it has something to do with the instincts that emerge that much stronger while they’re wolves.

His reason for giving her privacy becomes clear, although Snow finds she’s actually reluctant to strip off the clothing she’s borrowed, its warmth and scent fading as she quickly shucks off each layer and leaves it carefully folded in a pile on the counter. Maybe it’s silly for her to feel like that, she thinks, drawing in a breath before purposefully focusing on the shift, especially because his scent is about to be on her in an unmistakable way.

This time, it happens easier, with her being prepared to embrace it, but it still takes a few more minutes until she’s quietly padding out into the living room and then through the front door, meeting Bigby where he’s already standing in wait for her.

Like this, her instincts are harder to deny, and without the ability to speak, there’s nothing that could get in the way of her slow approach; she sits on her haunches in front of him, looking rather demure for a wolf, and then cocks her head at him, waiting for him to initiate what she’d done purely by accident. ]

[bigbaddy]

[ The change is so easy for Bigby. It's the waiting that's the difficult part, especially when Snow is taking a little bit longer to get there. There's enough to worry about when he's still so worried about what she thinks about him. What if she decides she doesn't want it after all? What if he's going to look like a brute or some huge fucking idiot for suggesting it in the first place?

He's pacing back and forth a little by the time she gets out, only stopping when he realizes that she did transform, and that she's sitting there - still, waiting. Clearly not rejecting the idea even now.

It's really happening.

Bigby starts moving towards her. His steps aren't really hesitant, but he's not in a rush either. Instead it's just like he's calmly taking his time to step over to her, and when he does, he leans in to gently rub his nose against the side of her head. Not really the right spot for scenting just yet, but this isn't that in the first place.

It's just.. sheer affection for her. The kind that feels safer to express when they're in these forms, when this sort of thing feels more natural to him than any human kind of physical affection. Just this big, big wolf gently nosing at her before he'll move on to the rest. ]

[powersuited]

[ Like this, Snow's inner reactions are more difficult to mask, instinct playing out in everything from the quirking of her ears to the twitching of her tail behind her. The trouble is that she doesn't even realize what she's doing, particularly because of how new it all is; she doesn't know how to control herself enough to be able to suppress her more reflexive responses to him, which is sort of how they ended up in this position to begin with.

That said, Bigby doesn't really seem to mind it, and he doesn't seem resigned to it either, like he's only doing it because she's asked him to and not for any other reason beyond.

While she doesn't rise up to stand as Bigby approaches her, merely letting him into her space, her tail does thump against the porch a little harder, more of an excited flicking, and then her eyes fall shut when he nudges his nose against her head, some initial tension flooding out of her in the wake of that small, simple gesture. It's relief, mostly, that he's still here with her, that he hasn't changed his mind.

She's not even sure she'll know for certain when he initiates the same thing she'd accidentally done before, but maybe she'll recognize the difference between what he's offering her now and what will make this strange connection between them a little more complete. For the moment, she just lets herself bask in what he extends first, ducking her head slightly and nuzzling into him with a soft exhale of breath. ]

[bigbaddy]

[ Look - it just feels easier to ease her into it this way. And it does seem to work. Bigby is not fully surrpised by how receptive she seems to be to his small and affectionate gesture, given everything from before, but it's still.. nice. He's enjoying it too, really, perhaps lingering for a few moments more like this because of that.

Then it gets a little more intense. He throws his body weight against her. Nothing too aggressive - just enough to knock her down, and the next moment he's hovering over her, and--

Well, she may recognize what he's doing. It's very much the same thing she did to him earlier today, after all. He moves his head closer now, instead of just his nose, rubbing it against her to scent her in return.

He does it for a few moments, just until he's pretty sure that he's done about as thorough of a job as she had, and then Bigby allows himself to just roll over and down next to her as a sign of the fact he's done what she asked for. ]

[powersuited]

[ She's not expecting him to use his weight against her — even in this form, there's a sizable difference between them, and he successfully bodies her, causing her claws to briefly scrabble against the porch boards before her faster reflexes kick in.

But whatever panic she experiences first, immediate and instinctive, initially making her bare her teeth, is overridden when he steps over her, blanketing her in his presence instead of aggressively pinning her down. She goes still, tension making her limbs twitch, and then recognizes what he's initiating, and lets her arms slide out in front of her, paws relaxing.

It doesn't feel any different than when he'd nuzzled her before, but once he's done she can tell what he's left behind on her — something she'd inadvertently done to him without thinking twice about it and something he's purposefully marked her with now. His scent is definitively over her, as irrevocable and undeniable as her own, and she wants to roll around in it, in him, in the feeling of safety it offers.

When he finally settles in next to her, Snow relaxes, shifting her weight closer to where he lays, her head gently butting into his — and then she doesn't offer or initiate anything else at all, just basks in the moment with him while they linger out here on the porch for a while longer. ]