Merida
Wondering where you've been all my life, I just started living
Merida’s brilliant gaze never leaves him - staring at him expectantly, the thin pink of her tongue rolling across one side of her black-lined lips. She cares not for ranks or titles, and her face remains expressionless until the familiar, charming smile pulls at his mouth. Her nose wrinkles (attempting to hide the sheer pleasure of seeing him so wickedly proud and attractively so), but she cannot hide the way his own smile brings her one of her own. It’s distracting; enough so that when his large paw taps her head, she did not even attempt to sidle out of the way. Her snout, however, tips up and she snaps at it, but he has already drawn away and her sharp teeth click dully on emptiness. Merida’s chin presses to the stark white of her chest, a sly grin chilling finding her lips. “Never.” Her reply is teasing - there is no bit of truth in it.
A brow quirks amusedly. A captive?
Does this...upset you?
She is standing now, moving forward to place herself fittingly between the broadness of his forelegs, his chest just covering her head as she sits. The fox snorts, her slender snout snuffling into his chest, parting the thickness of his fur until it finds skin, burying herself into him. She inhales deeply, her sigh a soft shudder of breath against him. “Don’t lie,” she muses, though her voice is muffled by the thickness of his creamy fur, “the queen doesn’t control your actions.” Can anyone? Merida pauses, leaning back slightly to peer up at the wolf with curious, gleaming red eyes. Her expression is coy, light; the semblance of a smirk pulling at her mouth.
“No, it does not upset me.”
He is perhaps the one thing to truly be feared in this forest; she finds it amusing that the royal couple thinks that they are controlling him - as if every whim and request will be followed dutifully by him, without question.
Her smile fades suddenly. “If something happens to you...” Merida’s ears fall back, her brow furrowing as obvious worry trickles onto her thin, pretty face. She nips his chin lightly, the catch of his skin between her teeth swiftly turning into a soft kiss. “Don’t let anything happen to you.” Don't get caught. She lowers her head, shifting her weight to comfortably lean against him, her spine curling in a slight stretch. It is a command; perhaps the only rule she would ask him to follow. There are things worse than death, she knows.
She hopes Crevan knows this, too.
Merida would not join in taking captives or wreaking havoc; but she truly does not care about the clown-King or his minions, or what the queen is trying to do when it came to striking fear into Beqanna. Merida doesn’t even worry about herself in the forest of death and blood (she smiles idly; let them try to hurt her). She did know, however, that Crevan is ruthless and powerful (more so than she) and he is proud of his endeavors, despite them being harrowing and dangerous. She can easily let him have his fun, as long as he returns to her. All she cares for is their own well being; selfish it may be, but it is where her heart lies.
@[Crevan]
he's perfect.