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

[Jacqueline]

She crested the ridge, her legs aching with an exhilarating exhaustion, and there it was. Between the pines, peeking behind the uneven horizon, was the brilliant blood-orange sunrise. It almost hurt her eyes to look at it, but Jacqueline paid no mind to the sensation. Red sky in the morning, she thought, expelling a translucent puff of vapor into the air from her nostrils, Traveller’s warning.

There was precipitation moving in from the east, she expected. Or, was it west? Dammit, Jacqueline, this is something you should know by now.

Precipitation was coming. From somewhere. It wasn’t a foolproof indicator, but it had worked many times during her childhood. She’d witnessed and heard about many Lenoir navigators using it.

If she was staring the sun in the face, that meant she was facing east. She was frustrated to admit it, but travel through the mountains and trying to feed herself had caused her to veer off course. No matter; she would continue her descent south after climbing down the ridge.

Between peaks, her eyes found the sliver of a valley below. Oh, hello. New plan: investigate whatever that is.

Her eyes lingered on the sun a moment longer. It was brilliant, a giant spectre burning a hole in the sky. She wanted it. Jacqueline would make herself known in these lands, claim a sprawling empire for herself that encompassed even the sunrise. Perhaps she wanted to be it, not claim it.

She found the sound of a name on the tip of her tongue, a surname she’d been mulling over. Her voice was raspy from disuse as she uttered it: ”Bissette.”

And then, again: ”Bissette. Jacqueline Bissette.” Her voice was clearer, then. More confident. This was her new identity, her final ‘fuck-you’ to her parents and their monarchy, the schism of who she grew up as and who she would become.

Jacqueline Bissette descended the ridge, paying no mind to her aching paws, hearing only the crunch of the snow beneath her.

[Lincoln]

// content warning for suicidal thoughts

Maybe it had been impulsive of him to leave the flatter areas of the valley — but could you blame him? He'd always been a wanderer, light on his feet, his heart soaring with the wind and dancing among the rays of sunlight that kissed distant mountaintops. Or, well, that's what he'd have liked to tell himself. That that was why he'd chosen to scale the most horrendous set of peaks he'd ever seen in his life — because he was happy, right? And that's what happy wolves did. Scaled things. Did things. Lived, instead of trudging around in the daily slop of life, waiting for the day they died.

Lincoln's lungs burned with the frigid air and the exertion of his travels, but that didn't stop him from snorting at his own thoughts. It was okay to grieve, he told himself. It was okay to feel — but part of him just didn't want to. Like maybe if he ignored the heartache, eventually it would scab over and heal and he wouldn't have to deal with it.

Silently he waded through the layers of snow, watching it as it passed beneath him, hyper focused on the acute burn of his limbs. It dawned on him that he wasn't sure what he was looking for, way up here, or what on earth he'd find — but, well, there was never a shortage of cliffs, right? If all else failed, of course.

// visible, probably a little ways below Jac, completely oblivious to her presence

[Jacqueline]

As she descended from her vantage point, she walked into a light fog. The lower she went, the worse it would grow, she supposed, and so before she went trudging into unknown, mountainous territory she couldn't even see, she reoriented herself. Jacqueline headed south, staying at about the same elevation, interested in seeing if she might find some food for herself.

What she spotted instead was a stranger. A stranger with unique coloration, at that. He shared the same russet ruff as she did, but his face was white. Well, well, well. Who was he?

She shook out her fur, made it as puffy and elegant as could be, and strode toward him. A soft wuff escaped her when she'd drawn near enough.

[Lincoln]

It'd been months already, a little voice told him. Months, and it still hurt to recall the memories — of the way little Lincoln's eyes glittered with happiness, of how innocent he was in the face of, well, the mess that had been his life. However short that precious life had been.

Lincoln sighed, clenched his teeth together in anger. At himself, at his inability to make a difference. At how difficult it was for him to just let it go.

But really, what would getting angry do to fix anything?

In an effort to distract himself he decided to pause, turning to stand horizontal on the mountainside and look out over the valley he'd ascended from. It was, bleak, to say the least; the sky blotted out by dark clouds; the majority of the landscape below covered by fog.

However disappointing the view had been wasn't given enough time to really sink in, as a nearby bark had disrupted his thoughts. And much to his own embarrassment, it startled him, though he hoped he didn't look as surprised as he felt when he turned his head to find the source. "Oh!" he exclaimed, then, after clearing his throat, "I mean, hey there." It was a woman, her coat dark against the snow and fog she'd seemingly materialized from. As she neared, he couldn't help but feel.. nervous, in a way that he couldn't explain.

Despite the way his inner musings seemed to reflect the weather, he found it easy to cast it all aside for a friendlier demeanor. By the time he spoke again, he'd managed to gather a bit of gentle motion in his tail. "Sorry, I didn't think anyone else was crazy enough to come up here."

[Jacqueline]

Mon dieu, he yelped oh! when he was surprised. Jacqueline was already judging him.

He tried to recover from his surprise, it seemed, and play it smooth. His tail wagged amicably. Jacqueline almost pitied him, especially considering she was about to lay on the charm. She had no real reason to do such a thing other than for the fun of it, for the purpose of seeing how it would make him react, but… This would be the first time she’d interacted with a stranger since leaving her homeland. None of the men would flirt with her back home; they feared her too much, and her big, scary parents, who ruled the lands.

She tilted her snout down and batted her eyes at him. She produced a soft, good-natured hum at his words. ”Crazy? No,” she replied, her voice thick with a French accent. ”I should think any man I meet up here is brave.”

[Lincoln]

She batted her lashes as she spoke and Lincoln felt his throat constrict with the answer as to why she'd made him nervous — she was, well, pretty, to say the least. In a refined, regal way; she was attractive to a young and inexperienced man, emotionally vulnerable, not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. But that sword held two edges, because that elegance she held made him feel as though he were under a microscope. And he didn't need anyone to tell him that he was insignificant or unworthy — he already knew. Had known.

But she'd called him brave instead of an idiot, and shortly after came the horrifying realization that in the same stroke, he'd technically called her crazy. Wonderful! He hoped, for his own sake, that the shoe didn't fit.

Only a moment passed before he gave a nervous grin, a shrug lifting his shoulders. "I guess that's one way to look at it." A positive way. He liked that a bit better.

Subtly his head tilted, the grin slipping away to be replaced by a look of curiosity. "But surely you haven't come all this way just to find bravery; what brings you up here?"

[Jacqueline]

He’d earned some modicum of respect from her by not melting at her feet at the slightest hint of affection. Instead, he carried on the conversation like normal.

“You’d be surprised,” she countered. “It may be true that I’m simply crossing these mountains, but I am in search of bravery. More importantly, I search for wolves that I can trust. Confidants. Those who will help me achieve my goals, and I theirs.”

Her eyes flashed, and she appraised the older man before her, waiting for some reaction that may tell her how he received her words.

[Lincoln]

Contrary to his assumption, this woman was looking for bravery. Wolves she could trust, she explained. Wolves to help her achieve whatever her little heart desired — for her help in return. Lincoln raised his eyebrows at her, a friendly gesture to accompany the brief resurfacing of his grin. "Goals?" he echoed, then glanced into the space beyond her head, deep in momentary thought.

Naturally, there was nothing there.

"You know, I can't say that I've got many of those," he said, returning his gaze to her attention. He noticed, with a subtle twitch of his nose, that they nearly shared the same color in iris. "But really, that just means I have time to dedicate to someone else's, right?" And here he smiled, hoping that she picked up on his offer.

But he didn't exactly wait for her to accept it, either, before he adapted to the role. "So what kind of goals are we talkin'?" he asked, taking a moment to cast his eyes down the slope that rolled off to the side of him. "If you're just looking to get out of the mountains, I happen to know a good way down."

[Jacqueline]

Here, a golden opportunity had just fallen into her lap. Jacqueline couldn’t believe such characters existed—those without goals, without dreams of conquest a thirst for achievement—but she supposed she was damn glad they did, because otherwise, gaining power and influence would be near impossible.

It made her not want to trust him, to wonder when he would form his own ambitions, especially if under her wing, and double-cross her or, worse, kill her to claim the power she’d worked for.

She also recognized that she was in no position to turn down a seemingly friendly male, especially in the wintertime when he could help her get down the mountains as painlessly as possible.

She smiled in return. “A trip down the mountains is a good way to start,” she said, moving to stand in his line of vision. Her tail curled over her back dominantly, but wagged in a light, playful gesture. “And how about on the way, I tell you about these goals of mine?” Truthfully, she didn’t have any defined. She’d have to talk her way into sounding smart without simply saying ‘I’m young and dumb and want to do something with my life. Want in?’

[Lincoln]

During their short encounter spent chatting among the teeth of the Spine, the weather had shifted. The once bright glow of the distant sunrise had melted away into the beginnings of morning, the light no longer able to penetrate the storm clouds that, the entire time, had been moving. The air had gotten colder, despite its already frigid temperatures, and after a long-lasting and suspenseful calmness, it started to snow.

Lightly at first, the flakes small and light as they danced down from the heavens. Lincoln stole a glance upward at the falling bits of white as he talked, awestruck by its quiet beauty, then returned his gaze to the woman to find that she'd been smiling. She moved to stand before him, her posture dominant but, still, friendly.

And despite how terribly cold it was, Lincoln felt warm.

She wanted him to accompany her down into the valley, wanted to share with him the goals that had brought her looking for his type in the first place. The fact that she'd assumed a dominant posture went completely over his head, because in that moment he was only happy to have found — possibly — a friend.

"Okay!" he agreed excitedly, his own tail wagging loosely behind him. Seconds later he twisted, plunging his forelimbs into the tracks he'd made on his way up. Without looking back to see if she would follow him, he said, "We'd better get going, then. Right this way."

For a few minutes he concentrated on where he placed his paws, glancing over his shoulder to make sure she didn't need any help. Then, once they were fully enveloped in the fog and the snow had picked up a little bit, he called back to her, expression gleaming, "I'm sure you've slid down your fair share of mountains, but have you ever done it on purpose?"

// for clarification, he's basically asking if she's ever gone sledding LUSHDFJ but wolves don't so (: