Don’t do love, don’t do friends; I’m only after success

[Jacqueline]

Jacqueline was used to taking orders and following them back at home, but changing her name and abandoning her pack—abandoning her status as heiress to the throne, even—was supposed to be the beginning of a new era for her, an era where she no longer followed others or took orders.

And, here she was, following a man down a mountain she was certain she could get down herself. Still, the drawback of passively following him would be worth it in the end if he proved himself worthy to serve her or act as a confidant. She supposed that, just like at home, not always taking the lead could be beneficial to her in the long run, and may actually bring her more power in the end.

“I’ve slid down no mountains,” she admitted. “Have you? On purpose, I mean.” She couldn’t decide if it sounded fun or frivolous. Hopefully, he would elaborate.

[Lincoln]

Through the gentle snow came her confession that she'd never purposefully slid down a mountain, and part of Lincoln felt pity for her. She was landlocked, in a sense, a soul who had yet to experience the wind through her fur, like really feel it. Running was one thing, but sledding—

"Well," he began, pausing between those large, awkward steps that came with trudging downhill through thick snow, "if it were up to me, it'd be the only way to get down mountains." He smiled playfully, despite the fact that she couldn't see it. "But not everyone sees the fun in it. Personally, I do it every chance I get."

He would have liked to take little Lincoln to the slopes, but he'd been much too young back then. The two of them had had more pressing matters to deal with in their short time together anyway, but Lincoln liked to imagine that the boy would have loved it either way. "Winter does only come once a year — best to enjoy it to its fullest." Because you never knew when it would be your last.

With the new snow adding to the stuff that had already had a chance to settle, Lincoln found the footing to be more and more solid beneath him the further down they went. After a certain point he stopped, glancing back at the stranger with the same brightness he'd had when he was small and his life was only a small mess. "Do ya trust me?" he asked, not at all expecting her to say yes.

[Jacqueline]

Fun. He thought it was fun?

Well, Jacqueline liked fun. And she liked risk, so she was intrigued. As they moved further down the mountain, she found her interest growing. She thought of trying it herself, because he wasn’t taking initiative, when finally, he did.

Do ya trust me? he asked.

No, not really. A million times no. That’s what the inside of her said.

The outside of her was more coy. “I can’t trust someone I hardly know,” she said coquettishly. ”But… I think I could trust you to get me down the mountain, in whatever way you see fit.” Cue the batting of her eyelashes.

[Lincoln]

Well, she didn't outright say no — so that was a win, albeit a small one.

Still, he chuckled lightly, innocently amused by her need to appear flirtatious. It didn't bother him as much this time, luckily, probably because of his excitement for what was to come. "Perfect," he said, "I wouldn't trust mountain men either."

It had been an attempt to make her laugh, maybe, but the stress over whether or not it worked was quick to melt away as he turned to the long stretch of untouched snow beneath them. "There are a couple of ways to do this, but really it's about having fun. You could try to stay standing if you'd like — I've never managed to myself — or, you could just—" here he dropped one shoulder to the snow, kicking off with his hindlegs to send himself sliding down the hill.

"—slide!" he called, his voice echoing as he descended.

The thrill of it, of that sinking, tickling feeling one got when falling faster than normal, brought a smile to his face and an ecstatic yip from his throat. He pressed the side of his face against the chilly hill as he went, rolling happily, kicking his limbs as though he frolicked instead of slid.

At the end of the hill he bounced up, stumbled a bit before he caught his footing, and looked back up to the woman. "Just stay away from trees!" he warned.

// <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ad-wz6y-QwE">video for reference</a>

[Jacqueline]

I wouldn't trust mountain men either. Or any men, or any strangers at all, for that matter, thank you, Sir. Hell, he shouldn't even trust her. Mountain women were just as dangerous! Still, the comment earned a twitch of her lips into a brief smirk.

He said she could try standing, and she was left to wonder what other way there was to do it, when he demonstrated. Oh. This wasn't what she'd been expecting at all. Watching a man slide down a hill on his flank gave her the worst ick she'd ever experienced in her life. Sorry, Lincoln.

She would try it standing, or at least sitting. She reached out a tentative paw to feel the texture of the snow. It was the dead of winter, and the snow was undoubtedly frozen and dense. She put another paw forward, supporting herself on her hind legs, and tried to let her front end slide forward.

So far, so good. If she tried to get her hind legs involved from that point, she'd just end up flopping down onto her belly.

She'd get some momentum going. Jacqueline pushed off with her hindlegs and tried to slide forward.

Agility roll[roll=1d20+2]

[Lincoln]

If he'd been honest with himself, he wouldn't have been surprised if she'd just outright refused to try and left to find some other way down. He could understand being afraid or thinking that it was silly more than it was fun, but hey — life wasn't all about being serious. Lincoln found it rather boring, truth be told.

But she'd decided to at least entertain the idea, and Lincoln's heart fluttered as he watched her begin her descent. Like a proud father waiting at the bottom of the hill, his auburn tail flagged ecstatically behind him. And she was standing as well!

"Beautiful!" he called, for lack of a better thing to call it. Marvelous! Incredible form! He felt like he could fall in love.

[Jacqueline]

From where he stood, Jacqueline heard him call, beautiful!

Thanks, she knows.

She puttered out a little way down the hill. It would be easier if there were more ice on the top layer of snow, but seeing as there wasn’t, she was inevitably going to break through at some point.

She bounded down the rest of the way, sliding a little and practicing. It was fun, she supposed, but she cared more about the agility required to do it, and the skill of it. She might practice it in case she ever needed to make a quick getaway from someone or something.

She shook herself out at the bottom of the hill. “That was… enlightening. Thank you, sir…?”

[Lincoln]

By the time she'd reached him he was absolutely beaming, but he wasn't dumb enough to not notice that she obviously didn't feel the same. Either way, he was glad she'd tried and he now shared a memory with one of the few wolves he'd met in the new valley. "You did great!" he said, sobering a little. "Better than anyone else I've seen." Not that he'd ever seen anyone else, but still. It meant something, okay?

He'd noticed the sir at the end of her thanks to him, and took it as her asking for his name. "And, you're welcome. I'm Lincoln, by the way," he said with a smile, not hesitating for a moment. It was him, he, the identity that he wanted even if it hadn't been the one he'd obtained at birth.

Lincoln paused to see if she would give her own name in return. Then, whether or not she did, he continued. "There's a big, big lake with a bunch of waterfalls nearby, we could head that way if you wanted?" he offered, turning as if to invite her to join him. He might have left that place to begin with, but now he wanted to go back — if for no other reason than to show her. Maybe she'd like it. "And there's no hills on the way there, if you still wanted to discuss your plans."

[Jacqueline]

The way he sobered up was not lost on her. It spiked her blood with irritation. On one hand, she wanted him to be more calm, because she could not and would never match that energy, but on the other, she didn’t like to think that he’d done it because she refused to be as enthusiastic.

Instead of feeling bad, her brain translated the emotion as irritated. Hooray.

He offered his name. Jacqueline still had no idea of her intentions for this man. “Jacqueline,” she told him, with an easy smile. She’d already picked out an alias to give out, Avril, but she didn’t have anything to hide yet, and especially not from him, as far as she could tell.

She was realizing a recurring theme, a pang in her heart when she was faced with such a sweet wolf: she didn’t want to hurt him, and she knew she would. At least, she felt certain that she would.

It was an odd contrast, because she’d grown up surrounded by self-motivated mongrels at home. Even herself and her siblings were defined by understanding pain, embracing it, and inflicting it on others. Their definition of play was rubbing one-another’s faces into the dirt, not sliding down snowy mountains.

Her face softened. “Lincoln,” she said, “You’re a charming man.”

Nice. How did she do nice? Not diplomatic or manipulative but simply honest, in a way that wouldn’t crush him. “But I’m not sure if my plans are… for you.” Yikes, yeah, that didn’t sound horrible or anything.

“I’m not nice, Lincoln. I never will be.” Normally she wouldn’t be so dramatic, but she hadn’t spoken to anyone in weeks, and this felt like the thing to do. “We shouldn’t travel together.”

[Lincoln]

// very light mention of violence / blood

Jacqueline was her name — it suited her, he thought. Elegant, poised, just like she was.

Then her face softened. She said his name, said he was charming in that sad sort of tone that women had when they were breaking up with someone. And despite him not having a whole lot of time or effort invested into anything to do with her, it almost... hurt. To know what was coming before she said it, to know that he hadn't made the cut, that she didn't want his company.

Was it something he said? Or was he just not as good at sledding as she was, and she thought she could do better?

She explained that she wasn't nice, that her plans weren't "for him." He couldn't help but chuckle, quick to toss the defeat that had momentarily constricted his breath. "Well, you seem nice enough to me. Do your plans require a sacrifice or something?" he asked jokingly. Was she looking for someone to give to the gods, their blood spilled to lift some curse?