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As Life Returns to Irontown [minccino & Hamlowe]

San was puzzled by his explanation. Why create something that looked very similar to a weapon, but not use it as so? She supposed she understood the sentimental value of it partly, if her gift to Ashitaka was of similar purpose. "Mm," she agreed, her smile signifying she understood.

She didn't probe any deeper than that, and instead invited Ashitaka into her humble abode. The interior of it was certainly more personable than the communal den that she had once shared with her brothers and Moro. It was still crude and lacked finer accommodations as one would expect from a human home, but San's touch had added a subtle, feminine charm to the wilderness. It almost looked like she was homemaking.

San had taken seriously to nesting in the past few months despite knowing it was more or less a futile effort. She hated humans far too much to dream of having one as a mate, and Ashitaka, as favorable of a candidate as he was, didn't live in the forest where her livelihood was. She could dream, though.

"Do you like living in the town?" she asked while she stoked a small fire by the mouth of the den.
 
Compared to sleeping rough as an exile, Irontown was a wonderful place to live. There Ashitaka had found more than shelter, he had found community, companionship, something more closely resembling home. Still, though, he had slept there on borrowed bedrolls in a spare room of the forge, warmed by fires meant for other purposes. Now he slept in a wing of Eboshi's keep, but still the quarters he kept never quite felt like his.

Here, though, was a place he had never been before, and yet he felt somewhat, even a little bit, the peace of home.

"It's fine," he concluded, but the looks he gave around the place suggested that he saw an unfavorable comparison between that and this den. "It's comfortable, but...it's lonely. I'm less use in the forges now, and I always worry that they'll repeat the mistakes that nearly killed this forest."

He didn't know if that answered her question, or if he could really answer her question. "This place is nice," he added, as if that were somehow relevant.
 
San tilted her head slightly when Ashitaka admitted that life in Irontown was lonely. She didn't understand how he could be lonely surrounded by so many humans at all times, but she didn't question it. Maybe his version of loneliness was something else entirely.

After kindling the fire, she returned to his side. "Mm, you can stay," she offered. The bedding, or the "nest" she had built accommodated two people, and it was obvious by the faint blush on her face that that the size of it had been intentional. "You won't be lonely with me." It was a complicated solution to a simple problem, maybe. The invitation had always been there, but deep down, even San understood and accepted that Ashitaka belonged to the people as she belonged to the forest.

"But I understand if you need to go," San said. "You're the only good that exists in that rotten place."
 
The offer to stay was certainly tempting--though there were many people in Irontown, and certainly things to do, Ashitaka didn't want to see any of them as much as he wanted to see San. He was not of the forest like San was, but by the same token, he was not of Irontown either. Staying here would miss nothing. Yakul wouldn't mind, for sure. "I'll stay tonight," he said, reaching over to her hand and grasping it gently. "Maybe not every night. Sometimes they do need my help. But when I can, staying out here will be nice." If nothing else, it would be nice to get away from the crowds and the forges, to remind himself of why he'd fought to bring peace between humans and gods.

But there was something else here, or rather, someone, to consider. San would be happy with him staying. Perhaps, even, she wanted him to stay.

"Oh!" He nearly jumped. "I brought some food," he added, giving her hand a squeeze before scrambling out and down the steep slope to where Yakul waited patiently. Retrieving the goods took mere moments, but to return with them took some more effort. He managed with one hand and his feet, using the other arm to hold the belongings. At the mouth of the cave, he uncovered his contributions: six small cakes of mochi and a dozen pieces of meat, the provenance of which was perhaps better left a mystery.
 
San was ecstatic to hear that he would stay, even just for the single night. She clutched his hand in return, happiness lighting up her features. As the sun dipped over the horizon and the orange glow of the fire remained the only light available, San crawled towards the jutting bedrock that overlooked the forest.

There, she took the food Ashitaka had offered her and curiously lifted the strange "blobs" of rice to her nose to sniff. "Thank you," she said, though after giving the soft treat a poke, she wasn't sure if she should be thankful or worried. She trusted Ashitaka, though. Carefully, San took a bite of the mochi, eyes lighting up in surprise as her teeth bit into the chewy texture. It stuck to her teeth in the strangest way, and an overwhelming sweetness of the rice flour and red bean paste filled her mouth. After a silly attempt at chewing down the mochi, San swallowed. It was hard to imagine Ashitaka eating this everyday for some kind of sustenance.

"What is it?" she asked belatedly. She probably should have asked before she put it in her mouth, but sometimes a cursory sniff was enough of a test.
 
She was definitely hungry, to eat something without inquiring about it or trying to figure it out. Her eagerness, tempered by the awkwardness of eating something sticky and sweet, made Ashitaka chuckle. "It's called mochi," he replied. "The white stuff is all rice, and inside is a sweet paste. Kohroku gave me them last night--he said they were left over from a gathering." Left to omission was the fact that Ashitaka hadn't been a part of this gathering—he never felt comfortable with such events. Too much had happened, and was still happening, for him to feel that he could rejoice the same way the people of Irontown did.

"They're a treat, really," he said, taking a piece of meat instead and chewing it with the labor one would expect of human teeth put to dry meat. Idly, he wondered how San fared with the largely carnivorous diet of her brethren--her teeth were not like theirs, after all. A wolf-girl she was, but still a girl in truth, as much as he was still a boy.

As they continued to eat, the boy found himself drawn towards her, wanting to touch her in subtle, but constant ways. More than once his eyes strayed towards the soft pile that no doubt sufficed for her bed. He hadn't thought to bring his own bedding. Would she ask him to stay here? With her? With her? Why did the idea fill him with both nervous apprehension and giddy anticipation?
 
"This is rice?" she replied incredulously, picking at another piece of the mochi that stretched like goop in her hand. It was an otherworldly texture to her and an even greater mystery in terms of its flavor. She then reached for the dried meats that were more up her alley, and consumed it without issue.

To her, the jerky was more like a treat than the mochi for the hunter. San finished the meal Ashitaka had graciously brought for her, then moved to a small, ornamental clay pot. She plucked a few leaves from an ivy-shaped plant growing along the cave's walls, and scooped what looked like a white sawdust or dried coconut mixture from the pot with it. She offered the leaf ladled with the scoop of the strange powder to Ashitaka, then turned it on herself to demonstrate first. San rolled it up and chewed the entire thing whole, and made another for Ashitaka to try.

It was something like a natural toothpaste, comprised of different herbs and antibacterial ingredients salvaged in the wild to upkeep dental health and hygiene. It was bitter at first, but the powder inside the minty leaf had subtly sweet notes of coconut and wild cherries to cover the acrid taste. San spat the pulp out into the fire for quick disposal, and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

"It's not very pleasurable but it prevents decay," San explained. "And breath smelling like rot and death."
 
"A special rice," he added, not being sure of the details himself. It wasn't surprising that San seemed to prefer the meats to the sweets, and he was glad he'd thought to bring both. As they finished, though, San went to a different pot, scooping out a bit of white stuff onto a few leaves. She chewed one to show him, and unbidden he remembered seeing her dimly overhead, chewing meat and feeding it to him like a mother bird. Back then he had been nearly dead, so delirious he hardly knew whether it was real in the moment. The passage of time reassured him that it had happened, but that made this situation worse.

When she spat into the fire, that finally explained what he was to do. He wrapped it as she had and chewed it, finding the taste mostly unpleasant, but trusting her wisdom that it would protect his teeth and his breath. Thinking about how she had fed him had brought to mind some worry about whether his breath did smell like rot and death. He suspected why, but would not admit it even to himself, certainly not to her. Their relationship was close, but delicate, and he dared not risk it if he could avoid it.
 
She seemed more than thrilled that he followed her demonstration. It meant that he trusted her in turn not to poison him, even if she had shown him a demonstration first to dissuade any concerns. San took this exchange of trust as an opportunity for a closer relationship to be had.

"Thank you," she said after a light, airy laugh. "The mochi was strange, but not unpleasant." It was certainly a step in the right direction to have San feel more accepting of Irontown's inventions and their ways of life. As a comfortable silence settled between them, San inched towards the bedding, not quite entering it yet but keeping it close as an option to retreat into. The night was still young, and San usually slept after some stargazing and deep contemplation by the fire. Fortunately, she had company tonight.

She then realized Ashitaka had yet to spit his wad of herbs into the fire, and gestured for him to do so. "Spit it out," she said. "It's poisonous if you swallow." Then she leaned in close, a little too close, and held his chin so she could sniff close to his mouth. The proximity was intimate, but San managed to make it seem more like a clinical examination. "See? Smells nice."
 
Strange, but not unpleasant could describe so many things. The Kodamas, at first, had struck Ashitaka as peculiar creatures, but he had never feared them as others did. The Emishi were, perhaps, more in touch with some of those aspects of forest life compared to the deeply agricultural people of Irontown and the other cities like it. But a little courage and willingness to encounter something strange could lead to something quite pleasant. "The mochi's more a treat than a staple," he admitted, pondering how little sweetness could be found in natural foods. In some ways sweets had to be mined like iron.

Before he could follow that train of thought any further, San reminded him to spit out the cleansing paste. It left a more pleasant aftertaste than he would have expected. "That stuff's useful," he said. "I wonder if—"

She cut off his thoughts again, and he stiffened as she leaned far too close for comfort to sniff his mouth. Against typical wisdom, he sniffed back, and to his surprise found that he could smell a bit of it on her breath as well. "Yeah," he breathed, trying to keep his mind together. "Y-yours too..."

Oh for all the gods' sake! But it was true—and this close, he could not help but feel overwhelmed by her strange, wild beauty.
 
In truth, San had never quite experienced or witnessed romance in typical ways. All she could count on was the natural pull she felt towards him to guide her actions, and right now, it was tempting her to lean closer and explore him. She wasn't certain in what way, as she hadn't been in this close proximity with another human before, but the closer she got, the stronger that magnetic attraction became.

"I wonder if...?" she repeated his earlier question that had been interrupted. Except, she wasn't allowing him to go much further with his train of thought as she leaned into the crook of his neck and gently bumped the side of her head against him, like she was nuzzling him.

His scent was intoxicating, masculine to the point it made her mouth water, that she wanted to rub it on her as a mark of familiarity and affection.
 
At least one of them could remember what he was thinking. "I wonder if Irontown could use that—" Again, she interrupted him before he could finish, nuzzling him in a way he found oddly similar to Yakul in his more affectionate moments. But here, with her, it had a definite charge that he couldn't deny, but didn't dare to indulge—why not? Couldn't he admit—or ask?

"What's gotten into you?" he asked playfully, but far from pushing her away, he wrapped an arm around her to pull her in, subtly moving closer to her bedding—was this where she wanted to go? Did she know what she was asking, what he was feeling? There was only one way to find out, and she was far too beautiful for him to not desire the answer at this point.
 
"Yes, then maybe their breaths won't reek of rot and death," San bantered, her tone light and playful despite her having meant every word of her insult. She laughed softly as he pulled her towards the bedding, which was comfier than it had once been when it had just been a smattering of dry leaves. Now it was cushioned, with broad leaves and clean pelts.

"Hm?" San mused, unaware of what he was referring to. To her, at least, there was no difference in the way she was acting. Perhaps she was a little more affectionate, but it didn't seem strange to her to act upon her feelings of natural attraction to Ashitaka. It made her more brazen than most women would be around a mate they found potentially interesting. "Do we not like each other?" she asked, like the answer couldn't be more obvious.

She rested a hand upon his chest and leaned into him again, though this time she pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth, then his jaw, in a silent but primal show of willful submission and affection. She was more wolf than human in mannerism, after all, and right now, he was an unmated alpha male she was showing her interest in.
 
Her boldness, whether born of naiveté or simple affection, was too endearing. Ashitaka couldn't imagine Kaya acting this way, but as soon as the thought of her came to mind he chased it away. She was the past. San was the present. Here. Now. In his arms.

And was she...trying to kiss him? Her lips seemed to touch him uncertainly, more like a wolf nosing an unfamiliar leaf than he supposed a woman's tender touch to feel. "We do," he murmured. So why did he hesitate? He didn't have to.

Gently, he brought a hand around to the back of her head, and cradled it against his, foreheads touching. "Here, let's try that again." He let his eyes close as he drew her lips to his own, not entirely sure what to expect, but only knowing what he wanted. Whom he wanted.
 
Ashitaka redirected her lips, and at first, San was puzzled. Then, it all somehow made sense. As their lips pressed together, San leaned into it with a hum, her entire body rising with life and excitement like air rushing into a balloon. It was such a simple gesture, not practiced by her wolfkin at all, but somehow it made sense. It was like she had been born with this affinity for romance and human touch.

Tentatively, she moved her lips. It was a bit awkward at first due to her inexperience, but she was a quick learner and adapted to the motions gradually. Tasting him, even with the thin coating of mint and tartness on his tongue, was a thrilling sensation that rapidly stirred warmth in her belly, and then lower.

She was unfamiliar with this kind of heat, but it pressed her to lean into him, and even roam a hand down his chest and up his neck. San drew away first, though their foreheads still touched. "That was a kiss," she whispered. She'd seen a "kiss" in the distance, often pressed into cheeks or lips from tearful or overjoyed lovers separating or reuniting at the forest's edge. She'd heard giggling maidens gossip about their firsts by the lake, and now she had experienced her own. "I like it," she murmured, lashes fluttering half-mast to cast a lurid gaze. "Kiss me again."
 
At first she was stiff with inexperience, but in an instant she adapted, fitting against his mouth as though the gods had made them for each other. She leaned in, and he leaned back, pressing closer to her with a sudden yearning need. Too quickly, though, she pulled away. For a half of an instant he wondered if he'd been too aggressive, but her hushed tone spoke volumes even before she confirmed what he hoped. He opened his eyes just enough to see her looking him through similarly half-closed eyes.

"Of course," he said. No words in the world could have made him happier. He pressed his lips back to hers with a smile, and the contact only made him want more, to press deeper into her, his lips tentatively opening as he wondered if she would follow suit.
 
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