Asta cleared her throat, Molaki sheepishly realizing he had been staring off and thinking of all the possibilities that surrounded the day so far.
"Sorry," he mumbled, getting up from the bed, to move and sit on the floor. When the doe didn't move to lay down, his shoulders rolled forward in defeat.
"Are you really still afraid of me? I..." her scent finally hit him, mingled with her warmth, wasn't fear, but that faint, barely present signature of desire. Or. He'd call it curiosity. He didn't want to get ahead of himself.
Asta sook her head no, but wasn't sure if she wanted to say the words. "You can stay up here with me. We both need rest. But I don't know if I'll be able to rest if I'm not watching the door."
Breathless, the wolf ran his hand through his silver white hair. He reminded himself that it seemed Asta couldn't smell emotions, but he still didn't want to stink like a puppy finding his first crush. Tentatively, he crawled back onto the hard wooden slab that was making do as a bed.
"I can stay up," he exclaimed. He pushed himself up against the corner of the wall to prop himself up, so eager to prove to her that he was willing to protect her that he would have wagged his tail if he was in his beast. Grabbing the ends of the blankets, he smoothed one out so Asta wouldn't be laying on the bare wood, handing her the heavier one.
Large eyes still fixed on him, Asta took the blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders. Sitting there again, silent, she sniffed the air, ears twitching to find danger, but when none was found, she slowly nudged herself closer to Molaki.
"Please, lay down, I really will keep watch," he said quietly, like he had in the woods, afraid she was going to bolt again.
Robotically, Asta did as she was told, lowering her body to the bed, her head settling in front of Molaki's cross legged feet. She had herself wrapped up like a cocoon, her knees folded in on herself, making her even smaller.
"... What did my clan do?" Asta whispered, her voice shaking.
Molaki sighed, trying to put into a concise statement what he had always been taught since he was a pup. He couldn't believe it would be a lie - history was written down. In a hard world to live in, elders didn't live much past seventy, meaning anyone who had lived through the wars were gone, but they hadn't been afraid to tell the tales. It wasn't a secret. It felt impossible that the deer had been kept in the dark.
"I shouldn't tell you," he concluded, flattening his ears. "Yet. Not yet. You need to be tested for truth. If I tell you anything you don't know, I'm afraid it'll look like you were lying to the Tri."
Absent mindedly, he placed his hand on her shoulder. Realizing what he did, he froze, but when he got no reaction either physically, or any fear from her scent, he relaxed, letting the weight of his arm fall over her protectively.
"Asta," he asked, changing the subject. She needed to sleep. But he needed to know. Clearly there was more different about their clans than what they ate. "Do the deer believe in true mates?"
"Yes."
"How... how are you taught to know?"
He could feel her shuffle under her blanket cocoon. Once again he couldn't read her. Was she trying to gather her thoughts? Was she unhappy with the question?"
"It's all so abstract," she concluded. "But we are taught that when you know, you know. That when you find the person, it's an unmistakable force that brings you together. Scent is so important to us, as shifters and people of the forest, that that's the first thing we are taught, but it's like a... warmth, a glow, something that hits you in your gut. And we all mistake our first loves as fawns for it, of course. But we're told that it'll just knock you down if you ever find it."
"That's what we're taught, too," nodded Molaki, tipping his head back to rest on the wall, looking at the ceiling.
"And do you believe it?"
It was Molaki who took the time to writhe in the question, before he set his jaw in determination. "I had no opinion, until today. Today, I believe it."
Unless she's bewitched me, he felt the nagging in the back of his brain again.
"Do you?" He felt like he was interrogating her now, but still. Again. He had to know.
Asta answered much faster than he expected, snorting seemingly at herself.
"If true mates weren't real, your pack wouldn't have gotten within a mile of me. I scented you far out, but I was so confused by what I had found, it stunned me. I was like a, what do you say? Sitting duck?"
Ducks weren't anything deer kept track of, not a food source, but she had heard the phrase many times, a relic of when the herbivores and lived in harmony.
Molaki laughed again, this one more hearty, both of them becoming more aware of the guard outside as they shuffled their feet when they heard the commotion inside.
But at least they had said the words to each other. In a roundabout way. Asta wriggled herself closer to the wolf, resting her head now in his lap rather than on the ground.
"Lavender," she said softly.
"You asked before, back in the woods, what you smelled like to me. I was in the middle of an autumn forest, with all the damp earth, moss, the crisp of winter winds, the late fungi, and suddenly I took in the smell of sage, and lavender, like it was all around me. And the feeling of comfort and safety, even though I was in the least safe position I had ever put myself in."
Asta could feel Molaki's heart pick up over her head, as he swallowed hard and decided to make his move, scooping her up in her blanket roll and propping her up on his body, up against his chest to he could cradle her.
"I promise, I won't let anyone touch you, Asta. Please. Please sleep."