onepassingnight | 003. the strength of the Wolf is the Pack

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003. the strength of the Wolf is the Pack

It's a meadow, surprisingly bright and green and the heat of an early spring sun is just beginning to warm the air. The grass is tall and green and there are almost more flowers than blades of grass in the area, riots of bright color and pure white hanging in delicate bells or open bursts of petals. Listening there's the faint drone of bees somewhere nearby, busy with their pollen and even fainter the hint of a stream somewhere, quick with the melt of snow from the mountains that take up the not that distant horizon. Weathered, stunted trees form a wood of sorts nearby, full of cool shade and the old smells of moss and bracken and last years fallen leaves. And Cloud -

Cloud is hard to find.

Until you notice the ears above the grass. Or perhaps a stray breeze blows by and you catch the ripple of gray fur between the swaying blades. He's lying on his stomach, chin resting across his arms and he's...

Well, he's a wolf. Grey and furry and lean muscle with eyes the color of the waters off Costa del Sol. And at the moment, he's watching the whispy clouds overhead, one ear twitching absently at a nearby bird that's trying to decide if he's invading it's nest space or not.

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She couldn't not. Sitting around, letting people sit in the slums and be hurt -- Tifa offered more free food to the homeless in Edge than she did in Midgar, because she hated seeing people suffer.

She paused for a moment when she turned back around, holding a sizable chunk of friend chicken out for the wolf. She locked eyes with the wolf, as if looking for something.. but recognition didn't come, and what Tifa was even looking for was a mystery to herself, the reason leaving just as quickly as it had come.

With her free hand, she graciously accepted the flower, giving the wolf a big smile. "Thank you! I'll make sure to take care of it."

And she would, too.

He went very still when she searched his eyes, worried about what she'd find, but the moment passed and she only had a smile in response. Letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd held in, he very gently let go of the flower when Tifa took it. The same way she'd taken his flower all those years ago in a city buried under the Plate where no flowers grew.

The chicken's a kind offer but he really doesn't know how he'd eat it without - well, wolfing it down. And he doesn't want her to see his teeth and jaws like that. So instead, he slyly scoots closer, sinking, sinking, sinking on the blanket until he's laying down and his head is, very hesitantly, eyes lifted to watch her carefully, resting in her lap.

He doesn't want chicken. He just wants her.

When his head lays down in her lap, she's surprised, but she doesn't make a move to push him away or scold him for doing so. "Not hungry, huh? That's okay, maybe later." The chicken and the flower were placed back in the basket, and Tifa shifted a little bit, making herself more comfortable before resting a hand on his head.

He was softer than she thought he would be, and she ran her fingers through his fur, reaching up to scratch behind his ears a little bit. She should have been scared of this beast, large and admittedly kind of intimidating.

But his presence was warm and familiar, and he showed no signs of being a threat. She almost wondered if he wasn't a wolf at all, but someone's pet, lost in the wilderness.

"What are you doing out here all alone, hmm? Did your master lose you?"

When she settles he does too, taking her lack of rejection as permission and in response, he curls his body as closely around hers as he can, even going so far as to slip a leg up and over her thigh next to where his head is resting in her lap, paw dangling. She always had the best fingers, and his eyes close down to contented slits of pleasure at the feel of them now in his fur. Given the opportunity, he'd never wake up from this dream.

At her question though, one of his ears pricks forward to show he's listening and after a minute, one lazy blue eye slips open. He's not alone. Not anymore. She's here with him. Lulled by her touch, he shifts his head and noses softly against the exposed skin of her stomach that her top doesn't quite hide from him.

She just gives him a curious look, but settles back into petting him rather quickly. The act is relaxing, so when the cold of his nose hits her bare skin, she jumps a little, letting out a soft yelp.

"Hey!" She's laughing, though, tapping him on the nose gently. "Careful! That startled me."

The quiet, feminine sound has both his ears pricking forward and his eyes shoot open to look up at her, huge and worried until he realizes she's laughing.

She's laughing.

He made Tifa laugh. Lids half fall over his eyes and, not moving his nose, he snakes out his tongue across the exposed skin next.

The best, if not only, way to describe the noise that came out of Tifa was a squawk. She hadn't been expecting that at all, and she gently pushes his muzzle slightly away. She's still smiling though, still laughing. It's fairly obvious she thinks he doesn't know any better.

"That tickles!"

She's never really felt more at peace. This meadow is comforting, and she can't even really hear the drone of the bees anymore. It's almost like she's slipped off into her own world, where it's just her and this puppy-like wolf with the bright blue eyes.

Eyes that almost remind her of-- but that thought is gone again, and she's back to petting him, having tried to pull her shirt down over her midriff with little success. "Maybe I should take you home to Marlene and Denzel."

For just a moment, he's tempted to push it. She's a sweet taste in his mouth and the small noises she makes please him deep down where his bruised male ego is buried. He was silently disgruntled when she gave up her half shirt and short skirt for the more practical leathers she wears now and that small sliver of skin still viewable is a walking torment to him. But - she said no. And she was happy. And he'll do almost anything in the world to make sure those brief moments of happiness stretch as long as possible for her.

So he relents but he still crowds into her space a bit more, lifting his head so he can lay it against her chest, chin resting almost at the base of that small dip at the base of her throat and he huffs out a soft breath against her jaw. She should take him home this way. The kids would love a dog and Tifa obviously does.

He thinks that he makes a much better wolf than he does a man.

If she knew he felt that way, she'd do everything in her power to make him know that it wasn't true. No, he wasn't perfect, and yes, he had some issues -- but that was okay. Tifa liked Cloud because he was Cloud and not anyone else. If she knew that he was being eaten up inside...

But right now, she didn't. Right now, she was concentrating on the fact that she had a very large wolf crawling up onto her lap and almost hugging her. She giggled again, and wrapped her arms around him, petting his head softly.

"Cloud might like a dog, too."

He's less than two days away from even his own amazing ability at denial failing and realizing that he's being eaten up literally as well as emotionally. But right now, he's a wolf and there's none of that in this world. Just the girl he adores, who's happy and still isn't quite close enough. He huffs at her as he does his best to work his way slowly, insistently, closer, trying to shift his hips between her knees while his front paws find spots near her hips.

No. No, Cloud would not like a dog. They're large and smelly and they take up space, usually right in front of where he's walking. They chew things and most importantly of all, a dog would take his family's attention away from him. And even if he knows it's selfish and he's never there enough, he secretly devours those moments when he is home and the children and Tifa are focused on him.

But Tifa's got her arms around him right now and she's giggling in that way that reminds him of a sweet cowgirl with hopeful eyes and if she wants a dog, he'll give her a dog. Anything she wants if she'll just keep being happy and loving him. Anything if she'll just let him wiggle closer.

His sheer bulk and weight were slowly lowering her towards the ground, and Tifa finally relented, letting the wolf basically lay all over her. She's still smiling, still hugging him.. She almost felt like she was a kid again, playing with the neighbor's dog. Growing up, Tifa had only ever had a cat -- and while Snowball was a good cat, he wasn't terribly interested in playing around outside.

"It might make him happy," she said, growing somber. "He's been a little down, lately."

Satisfied with her surrender, he sprawls across her, claiming his rightful spot as completely as he can. Below the waist he's still on the ground because he doesn't want to smother her, but the rest of him, he stretchs out on top of her, careful to keep his elbows from digging in or poking her. His head he rests over her chest, nose almost touching her chin.

But - no. She isn't supposed to feel sad. He's furry and huggable and here. That's supposed to make her happy. Except even when he isn't here in his human form... his human form is still making her sad. It hurts deep down in his chest and the whine slips out of him before he realizes it. Stretching his neck a little, he flicks his tongue against that secret spot behind her ear where he knows it tickles.

Don't think about blond failures. Think about the cute wolf you've got to hug instead.

"Oh, don't feel bad, little guy!" Tifa smiles, giggling at him. "And stop that!" She playfully pushes his nose away, though she does lean her face forward to bury her face in the fur on the side of his face.

"I just worry... It's like I don't know what he's thinking about anymore." She laughs slightly, though, shaking her head. "But I shouldn't bore you with that kinda stuff, huh?"

You don't want to know what he's thinking anymore, Tifa. He's pretty damn sure of that. Not on his bad days when he wakes up from dreams of dead friends and knows that every second he enjoys of his own life are seconds that they should be having and enjoying instead. That they would have - if it wasn't for him. Why would he ever tell you that he's so happy with you and the children that it hurts - and that he's terrified that being that happy means he's about to lose you - because he always loses everything good in his life? Why would he tell you that he hates that narrow, uncomfortable bed in his office - but it's his fault he's there and he's pretty sure it's where he belongs? He makes you unhappy enough as it is. He's not what you need him to be. He knows it but he won't leave.

Why would he tell you things as ugly as that?

But her cheek is against his and it finally calms the restlessness in him. The tension goes out of him and he shuts his eyes with a quiet exhale. Against her he makes a throaty sound, low and soft. She doesn't bore him. Not with anything she does or says. He needs to hear her voice, to know she still wants to talk to him. Maybe... maybe she wants the same thing...

Maybe... maybe he should try talking to her more than he does. Not about the guilt. That's his fault, his problem. But - she always seems to like his stupid stories about his day. And their silly conversations that won't make sense to anyone but each other. Maybe - he should talk to her about Denzel and finding him outside the church? It - seems like a good place to start. A small confession. He can do that. Gentle, he rubs his cheek against hers. He'll make things right. He will.

Somehow.

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003. the strength of the Wolf is the Pack

sdgdgdsg shit just got cute

heh, he's a good Cloudy!wolf especially since he thinks he can get away with murder when he is

he probably could XD

don't encourage him >:D

Why not? >:D

because he will become a baaad wolf

you say that like it's a bad thing :Db

well, HE doesn't think so

Tifa probably wouldn't either :X

in a case like this communication would be lovely... too bad it's these two

words aren't the only way to convey your feelings ;D

lucky for them

SORRY FOR LATE/SMALL TAG

sorry about the tl;dr in response