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"Hello, little wolf," came the low voice of the female who stood upon the outcropping of rock that overlooked the bank. Like a queen in her castle, Ember held herself with a serene, quiet pride. She was more in tune with this place than any wolf, for it was her home. A small stretch of home, but home nonetheless. Ember had led Ralastor here, and it was true that buried deep within her cold heart there was a faint touch of romanticism. To Ember, this place represented a victory. A victory that had altered the course of their lives inextricably.

Perhaps at last Ralastor might come to understand that her nickname for him was both mocking and, in some small, unassuming way, fond. But Ember had no expectation that that would occur. It was, after all, Ralastor, and he was somewhat... dense. Oh, more than a little, if she were to be truth, and Ember nearly always was truthful with herself. Others, who could say? But with herself, there were standards that had to be met.

He was pleased by her choice, she knew. This place surely had as many memories for him as it did for her. Memories of defeat-- but she would now give him a sort of victory to color those grey thoughts. Perhaps. It would depend on the manner of his approach, she decided. Ember was not one to be so cheaply bought.

It was up to Ralastor to prove that he was worthwhile for something more than a fight. Battle was all that he had shown he knew, and although he had pups of his own (near full grown now), that said nothing of his value to her. He would have liked for her to use his name, but names were something Ember chose to use. It was her will that determined whether he was Ralastor or little wolf, and her will to decide when he had earned her name of her.

If, in fact, she ever felt that he had.

"So I did," she said contemplatively, as if considering the merit of his words... and of Ralastor himself. Ember was tired, to be sure, but this sort of thing was more the norm for her, and less than norm for him. Which meant that as tired as she was, she was able to hold herself with the aloof self possession that she always had. He was trying, she could see. Ah yes, he was trying. Why had he sought her out that first time, after she had beaten him so soundly? She had a guess... but she wasn't sure whether it was a correct one.

Whatever the answer, he had come to her now for one purpose, and one purpose only. Ralastor wanted Ember at his side. He had demanded that she join him as his mate, or not at all. But what Ralastor didn't know was that this had been her plan all along. How kind of him to fall neatly into her trap. Ah, but it was a trap that had caught them both, and she sensed that it would set into motion events that would forever change them.

For better or for worse, this next step was almost unavoidable. That she knew. "Do you feel that you have proven worthy, little wolf?" she asked, raising her chin as she stared down at him. He did not approach her yet. ... Good boy. She was not ready for him to make his approach. For now, this was her rock, her land, and she would stand proudly upon it, ready for any intruder that might come. He was her guest, and so he would remain until she decided otherwise.

Ralastor's response earned him a laugh. It was not a mocking laugh, for once. But oh... "You think that I could make you perfect? Ahh, such high standards you set, little wolf." The fondness she held for both that petname and the wolf to whom she gave it lingered for a moment, before it was swept up in her usual somewhat distant air. "How amusing, to think of being an aid to perfection. You know, it is nearly impossible to achieve perfection, no matter how much one might try. Better, I think, to turn one's weaknesses to one's advantage, no?"

Such as Ember's smaller size. She was not the largest b***h there was, but she had never once allowed that to stop her, or to slow her down. "I do not ask for perfection, little wolf. I would not ask for the impossible. But I do ask that you view me as something more than a means to an end, or a victory to be claimed. Without those requirements met I will not be your mate."

But with them... with them...

Ember considered Ralastor, observing the way he stood so proudly before her. He was careful not to be too proud, and she approved of that decision. "I once said that I was not so much older than you yourself, and that is true. I am older, and because of that, I have determined for myself what I want in a mate. Alone in these woods I have had much time to think."

To think and little else. "Perhaps you approach those things," she allowed, watching him with cool, ice blue eyes. "I expect that reality is never the same as fantasy, and there are aspects of your nature that diverge quite sharply from what my imagination might dream up in the dark hours of the night. Yet there are things that I did not imagine, things that together we could do. There is little that we could not accomplish together," she conceded. "But I am still not entirely convinced."

With the faintest quirk of her lips, she addressed him once more. "I require more convincing." The playfulness was unmistakable, though it did not take on the brand that most she wolves employed. Ember did not know how to be coy or coquettish. It was not given to her to be anything weak or demure, no matter how tempting such things might be to some wolves. So he would have to take what she offered him, or nothing.

At least he knew that she would put him in his place if she felt the need. "You are right that I would do exactly that. I still will, if you choose to assert yourself in a way that I disapprove of," Ember informed him, eyes on him as he took another step. "It is good that you admire that in me." It was right, it was proper. She would not have even considered his offer if he had not. Somehow, Ember felt that he knew that. "You are very bold, little wolf, to approach me as you do in my territory." A warning, perhaps? A warning that she was not to be trifled with. And yet she did not tell him to stand down.

"I will consider it," she told him, that faint elusive playfulness still present in her tone like the ghost that Ember so often resembled. A touch here and there, vanishing from time to time, but ever lurking hidden within her low, confident voice. "And what benefits might these be, little wolf?" she inquired, all but giving the impression of a raised eyebrow. Whatever experience he had, Ember doubted that he knew what a wolf such as she might want. Perhaps his efforts had been sufficient for a lesser female, but not her. Not as they were.

There was a long pause in which Ember weighed Ralastor and his words, determining for herself the value of each. She watched him closely, though her mind was elsewhere. This was a concession from her, but also a compromise from him. Whatever he thought it was that he won here, it would be on her terms, and her terms only. If Ralastor was smart, he would not expect anything less from her. And, though he had made countless mistakes in their time together (not that she was without them, herself), he had won this bit of ground for himself. A place where Ember could meet him halfway, at last.

"... Fine. I will allow this." She would allow it. This was no submission, and if he believed otherwise... he had another thing coming. "I will give you this one night, and if you can convince me? Well." That spoke for itself. If he could convince her through whatever means he had at his disposal, Ember would at last agree to be his mate.