Leland. Her beloved one. She hadn't seen him for a long time, and she only thought he had went away for a few days. But the days turned into weeks, and she started to get worried. And nowadays, whenever she got worried, she drinks the vodka she managed to find in Halifax. And that's what she did.

The grayish woman just walked clumsily around the tribelands. It was odd as the floor looked so unstable right now... she tripped all the time that her legs couldn't find the ground, or if those found a branch of just a leaf. Where the hell was him?! Leland! she yelled to the lands, her voice pitch with the scream. Leland, you bitch..., she said to herself, whispering. Where the heck are you, you lil' sucker?

She supported her weight in the tree, but it wasn't that close as it seemed, actually. It was a few more yards away, but her blurred and delimitated vision made her space notion almost to zero. She fell like a tree trunk, her chest hitting the earthy ground hardly. Fuck you! she said to the brown blur in front of her. The woman dragged her body to the tree, and layed her back in the warm trunk. She closed her eyes, whispering bad words about the husky mix. Why wasn't him there? Why did he leave her? "Fucker...", she thought.

Leland was gone from the Aniwaya lands, but little Noir called the place home and Lysander had spent the last few days exploring the tribe’s lands. He came in the evening and went in the morning and very rarely did he have to hide from anyone or retreat. The whole world was his playground and the home of Aniwaya was just another sandbox for him to dig around in. Fully shifted, he sauntered through the packlands, his arms hanging loosely at him sides.

The cursing he heard off somewhere in the night brought a smile to his face. Somewhere, someone was having a horrible evening. For a moment he hesitated, should he go the other way or see who was making a fuss? And if he found her, for it sounded like a girl, should he cheer them up or make their day worse? The decision was already made for him for the cursing became louder and the woman came crashing through the clearing, collapsing onto the ground and then dragging herself to a tree. Gingerly Lysander made his way over to her.

She seemed in a sorry state, drunk out of her mind and barely functioning. Lysander grinned, some of his best memories, or at least the stories other people told him when he woke up from his blackout, happened in that state of mind. Even if she seemed upset, Lysander decided, she was probably having a good time. Getting drunk and upset and starting fights was fun, for the husky at least, and he wasn’t going to let this pretty little lass waste a perfectly good night. The sun hadn’t even set yet. "Hello there miss, what are ya doing out?"

The alcohol made her already bad vision blurred and doubled. The sunset made everything around reddish and orangeish, and she barely could manage to identify the trees, the ground and the sky from each other. She blinked twice, and it was easier to find the one she wanted to see. The husky male that should be black and white, was now white and orange. A smile crossed her face. His patterns, his voice, his way of talking... everything pointed for the stranger's identity.

Le-Leland! I've found you! Finally..., she said, trying clumsily to get on her trembling feet again. She held in a low branch, until she was -almost- stable. The woman held tha arms open while ran towards the presumed lover. She tripped, and fell into his arms, remembering of their first meeting. She held him tight, not thinking about her strenght. Jeez, I was so worried about you! Where have you been, sweetie?! she asked, the voice sounding weird. She barely knew that the one she hugged wasn't the one she wanted him to be.

Lysander blinked slowly, a slow grin spread on his face. The women must be more than drunk to mistake him for Leland. His coat was of the wrong color, his voice was not quite right though all the brothers had a similar quality. Still, once not too long ago he had passed for Leroy to a girl who was awake and dreaming. Silly, sad girls getting themselves into situations because they forgot to lock doors or wandered the evening hours drunk to the point of blacking out. Lysander said nothing for a long time, but the girl, stumbling and falling over herself, came into his arms and Lysander caught her, looking down at the wreck of a women.

He lowered them both to the ground, sitting cross legged and letting the girl, whoever she was, lean on him. "We’d best be sitting down." The female wasn’t heavy, but Lysander didn’t like to feeling of holding up her body. It was like jello, so relaxed that all control of her own muscles were lost or nearly lost, and Lysander didn’t like to think just how vulnerable she was. Of course, neither did he correct her in saying he wasn’t Leland. Rather, he ignored both her assertion he was indeed his brother and her question. Who cared where Leland had been?

"Why did ya drink so much? Ya’re in a sorry state." He was only stating the truth, it was evident to anyone who was looking on. Still holding onto her, though rather innocently, Lysander peered into her eyes, to see just how responsive she was. Ah well, she was conscious, he could talk with her, even if she thought him someone else. For a while anyway it would be fun and Lysander would have fun at any cost. “So you waited for me, right?” Leland had been gone a while and this girl was still pining for him, such a waste of time Lysander thought.

He then asked why did she drank so much. What, was that so evident? Because ah was worried! And Ah ain't sorry! It's YOU-, she said, and looked at his blurred face, a stupid smile in her face, poking the index finger in his wet nose. -that should be sorry for makin' me wait her' for ya!, the wolfess saied, not really able to control the level of her voice.

His next question thrilled her spinning head. Ah already saied! I was waiting for you... At least you came back, and that's whah matter doesn't it?!, she said, lowering the finger that was in his nose to his lips slowly. She was really out of her mind; she rarely felt so sexy like that. She held his muzzle wiht two finger, and kissed him. She had really missed him, and even knowing him like she did, he'd more likely break the kiss, or surprised or annoyed. He was a bit old-fashioned, as he used to call her miss most of the times such a gentleman.

She was beside him and still beside herself, so drunk and out of her mind, she hadn’t caught on that he was not Leland. And still he did not correct her. The steel colored husky chuckled, as she commented that it was he (or rather his brother) who should be sorry. It was rather witty for the drunk, though Lysander couldn’t tell if she had meant to be witty or not. Probably not, she probably just really did want Leland to be sorry. And maybe he even was, leaving behind a mate or girlfriend or whatever this female was to his brother. But Leland was also heartbroken still over Lela, and Lysander felt as if he had done the two a favor. This woman didn’t deserve Leland’s half hearted love.

“Yes, at least I came--” --back. The words were broken off as she kissed him, and he shouldn’t have been surprised, but for a moment he was unsure of what to do. Already he had had one of his brother’s lovers, could he do it again? The answer, of course, was yes. And so he kissed her back, his hand finding themselves on her hips then. How convenient was they were both shifted, two legged. It really was more enjoyable when one had body parts to hold onto.

The girl was really going at it and Lysander pulled back a bit. If this was how she always acted Lysander couldn’t understand why Leland had run off. Of course his idiot brother listened to his heart most of the time, doing what he thought was just and right and trying never to hurt a fly. It was no way to get ahead in life and no way to get what one wanted. Lysander could be cunning and ruthless, despite the warm and friendly face he showed most others. Whatever the situation warranted he could do, if it meant getting his way.

“Hey, hey…” Lysander lifted her face from moving any further down his body, looking into her eyes. Was she really so drunk she mistook his grey ones for the mismatched pair he brother sported? “You sure this is what you want?” And if she said no Lysander hadn’t really lost anything anyway, if she said yes, well then at least he was sure this didn’t count as rape. His hand held her face gently, almost as if he even cared for her. Almost.

Who was he to deny the woman what she wanted? He wasn't the one who was pushing for it, he wasn't the one who had initiated any of it. The husky hadn't corrected her mistake, he was not his brother, not in a million life times would he ever resemble the male in personality or physically. Was it wrong that he didn't set her straight? Or was it wrong of her to allow herself to be so delude? Lysander knew what he did next was wrong, but that didn't stop him, he had given the Aniwaya member a fair shot at realizing her mistake.

Pushing her gently to the ground, Lysander climb atop the female. The stage of foreplay passed pretty quickly, a few quick kisses and caresses were all he could muster. It did not matter at any rate, as drunk as she was the woman was as receptive as she would ever be. With skill acquired by much practice, Lysander quickly placed the appendage of his body into the appropriate hole and set to work. Back and forth he rocked above her, for him it was just a way to pass the time. No romance, no meaning, he was only doing what he knew she wanted. In some skewed way, Lysander even decided he was doing her a favor.

Normally the moans of a women would excite him, drive him further, make him hold out just so it could last longer, yet today they annoyed him. While it was not unpleasurable for him, it wasn’t so good that he had to make it last. With a couple extras thrusts, Lysander finished inside the female, leaving his sticky mess for her to deal with as he rolled off her, the cool ground felt good on his back as he caught his breath. Idly he wondered if his brother had actually slept with the women before or not, though after Leroy’s snotty female he had slept with it wouldn’t have been the first. Somehow, that made it less exciting but all he had left to do was defile a girl Lyle fancied and then he would have screwed over all his brothers and he thought that was a goal worth having.

Lazily he turned to the girl, whose name he didn’t even know. Grinning, though he didn’t really mean it for the fun part had run out and he was ready to be on his way now, his voice was snide, cocky. “Happy, girl?” As if he had done something no other male could do for her. And perhaps he had, because who else would run about masquerading as his brother? She had wanted to believe in a fairytale reunion and he had given her that, even if once she realized her mistake she’d be distraught and upset, at least she was happy now.

He spoke, and a ear cocked to one side before she would turn to look at him, her eyes answering his question, glittering with bliss. She still panted, the tip of her tongue out of her open mouth. She felt slightly more sober, but yet not enough. Woah. There. That was all she could say in the moment before she could make a more rational answer. Actually, bliss'd out. She said, pausing between the words to fit them between each breath, that seemed to get slower. Her heart wasn't hitting her chest anymore, and it was a relief.

She rolled to his side, eyes shut, the smile never fading away. A dream coming true, that's for sure. She rested her forehead in his furry chest, still in need of feeling him. She still wanted to hope.

Slowly, the stupor from the alcohol strated to crawl into her mind. She felt utterly stiff and unwilling to move. The ground was soft, and it was fit for a little nap. The grayish female yawned widely, not caring of placing a hand in front of her mouth, as the formality demanded. Soon, her already shut lids seemed to have been glued together. The fatigue finally had the upper hand over her, and she fell asleep, her chest going up and down with the slow breathing. She was too tired to dream, but, somehow, she knew it would have been about him.

Lysander smirked at her answer, it was strange, something that was so meaningless to him could mean so much to her. Of course, they both thought that this was two different things and sadly it was Lysander who had the more accurate version. Such strange perceptions of reality drugs and alcohol could cause someone to have, which admittedly was one of the draws of the substances. Lysander liked to live in that other world, the fuzzy, happy world were everything was softened and blurred. It was a nice place and he almost envied this girl, except he knew that when she woke with a pounding head ache and fuzzy memory it probably wouldn’t seem so appealing. Especially if she ever separated the reality from the dream. Then she’d be a sorry woman.

Reluctantly he allowed her to fall asleep on his chest, but as soon as her lids slid shut he pushed her off of him. He wasn’t one to cuddle after intercourse, especially when it hadn’t been anything great and the girl was just another random girl, as most of them tended to be. Standing he brushed himself off, looking down at her. “Poor fool…” His voice was soft, not in consideration of the woman sleeping in the dirt and leaves, but just that it was dark now and like many creatures he had a tendency to be quite in the dark. And it was almost silently that he stole away, leaving her to find the morning on her own.