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Taking place during the Ravron celebration | Osamu

The moon had risen just as quickly as the sun had disappeared along the horizon. It had been a long day of festivities — and yet still, they continued throughout the night. Summer fireflies lit the air around them to create an ethereal glow within giants throne, and Izumi found herself wandering around the territory a whole lot more than before. Not because of the fireflies or the dancing or even the feast — it was the berries. There were so many of them just sitting in a pile within the food storage; Izumi was none the wiser.

The juices turned liquor that seeped from them as she chewed and swallowed, warm with a slight yet delightful burn down the hatch. She repeated this process…..far too many times to count. Ate way too many of them to process what it was doing to her, and now her mind was gone to the wind. From her ivory cheeks to the tips of her dark ears, she was bright red. Warm and fuzzy, giggling softly to herself as her slight frame swayed and pranced among the masses like flowing silk through trees. Izumi never even knew she could dance — or maybe she couldn’t…she could no longer tell what was going on around her anymore, only that the world now felt lighter, and the fermented sugars she licked from her lips tasted like ecstasy.

Though she stopped, stumbling a bit to peak before her through half lidded eyes and a curtain of dark lashes. She had stared, unabashedly, into the most beautiful pair of silver eyes she’d ever seen. Tied into the backdrop of handsomely woven features. Osamu had always been the object of her affections and many, many embarrassing desires that shall not be named, but for some reason it was tonight where those feelings increased tenfold. As if he was beckoning her to come to him (or probably just standing there. She’s too out of her mind to tell).

Slithering through the crowd like a snake, Izumi made her way to him like tunnel vision — the only one she could see in the crowd. She bumped sides with him (a little too hard), A soft rumble coming from her chest as she pressed against him like a cat.

Osamu stood ramrod straight, looking stiff and awkward in a crowd of unfamiliar faces as he struggled (and failed) to appear natural. Handling large gatherings was not a skill presently in his toolset, and although he tried for Fujiwara's sake, he looked like a fish out of water.

Something soft suddenly bumped into his side. Osamu blinked, surprised to see Izumi there.

Empress? he said, then immediately scented the fermented berries emanating from her person. She leaned against him, making a peculiar noise as she batted her eyelashes most charmingly.

... Ah. You have found the refreshments, he chuckled. She certainly seemed quite comfortable. Perhaps that is not such a bad idea.

Gently guiding her forward, Osamu led them both back toward the berry pile from which she had come and gladly scooped up a mouthful in a show of camaraderie. He'd always enjoyed the occasional sake as a man, and clearly this habit translated into wolf form - it wasn't long before a familiar warmth spread throughout his belly, stretching out toward each limb.

Delightful.

He scooped up another cluster.

So... he hesitated. Suddenly it was as if his mind went completely blank, and he couldn't think of a damned thing to say to her. Was he still nervous in her presence, even after all this time?

... This is... nice.

A smile, a chuckle— Izumi rarely got to see such a thing! To think his gunmetal gaze could become more mesmerizing as mirth glittered within. It made her chest warm with something other than the liquor that ravaged her system, and the Empress pressed closer to him just then. A possessive  sort of fondness in the knowledge that his affections were reserved only for her. Something she longed for only in dreams…

A lazy, intrigued smile found her narrow features as he guided her back to the cache of wine and food, stumbling a bit as she walked. Refreshments, he called them. Well, they were certainly refreshing! Though not in the way as cool water would feel down one's parched throat. Izumi felt loosened up. Free in a way she hadn't felt before. Her mind relaxed and her smile came as easy as the sway in her movements — she felt like the ocean tides that kissed the shores of their home.

He had some refreshments of his own, Izumi's eyes following the stains the berries had left on his lips — and she had half the mind to steal a kiss from him to taste from the source. Though her crown merely pressed against the side of his, cooing words softened by her drunken state. You feel nice… He did. The feeling of his pulse though the veins of his neck, the warmth of his skin against hers as she cozied up to him. It was almost as intoxicating as the berries…

Her crown gently pulled from the comfort of his furs, her nose meeting his as she gazed at him through dark lashes. 銀の月よ、私と踊って…… (Dance with me, silver moon…) She breathed invitingly, hooking her forepaw with his and pulling him closer. Izumi will die of embarrassment tomorrow--

But tonight, he was the only one she saw.

The languid sway of her hips had not been lost to the man. It took far more self-control than usually necessary not to slow his pace for a better glimpse, his sense of propriety stretched to the limit since their breathless admission of shared feelings for one another. Before, Osamu would have punished himself for the thought; now, however, knowing what he did...

... He was still a man, at the end of the day. And he sure wasn't dead.

It was proving even more difficult with the way she now pressed herself up against him.

Ah, er - he fumbled for words and came up dry. Rather than ruin the moment, he chose to embrace it, cheeks burning hot as he arched his neck to cradle her head beneath him.

But she didn't want to simply cuddle.

Oh no.

私の皇后はそれをウィル場合, (If my Empress wills it) Osamu said with some hesitance. This would require further fortification. Without any attempt at concealing his anxiousness, he bent down and quickly downed a thick wad of fermented fruit to hasten the process; if Izumi might die of shame later, Osamu would surely go first.

She drew him closer and his breath hitched alarmingly in his throat.

It was expected for the man to lead - although he had never taken a formal dancing lesson in his life - but he'd seen enough in his travels to have a loose grasp on the motions.

And so he did.

Slowly, gently, Osamu bent his head over hers, tucking her crown against his chest as he gradually recalled the steps and swayed to a song only they could hear.