Cariadon Festival

A human howl went up from the woods around her, nearly spooking the young lass from her windfall hidey-hole. But she stayed still, hushing a giggle under her cloudy breath. The snap of a twig and crunch of snow near by sent a thrill racing up her spin and zinging down every limb. Another giggle had warm puffs of air rolling over her bare arms. Suddenly the winter woods went quiet, and the lass held her breath waiting for the next sound.
"Gotcha!" A young man leaped over the fallen log above to land in front of the windfall in a half crouch. The long tail of his red and cream cloak whipped around his bare legs, the cat eared hood fallen to his wide shoulders to reveal blond hair and shining blue eyes, and buck antlers curling up from his skull.
"Not for long!" The lass shrieked as she sprang up and barreled past him on lithe legs. Real laughter burbled up from her chest as she sprinted bare foot through the snow, joy the rush of the chase keeping the cold at bay. Her own cat tailed cloak streamed out behind her, black and white tail bouncing merrily in the air. Another howl rang out behind her, and was fallowed by a deep laugh as the swish of snow flurries being kicked up gained on her.
She swerved hard to the left, dodging through the trees and over a frozen trickle of a stream, throwing her pursuer for a lop as he banked hard to turn and catch up again. The lass whooped in delight as the Summer Meadow came into view through the thinning forest. Even in the grip of icy winter its beauty glittered out clear and almost warm, a beacon to follow.
Breaking into the tall grass stiff with frost, ice crystals hanging in the air and casting a rainbow light around her, she paused for a moment to catch her breath, lungs aching in the cold. She almost forgot about the man coming up quickly behind her until she was tackled to the snowy ground, strong arms circled around her waist, a cold nose buried in her brown hair.
Warm breath huffed against her neck in a quiet, breathless laugh as he pulled her back to his chest, head ducked low to press warm, open mouthed kisses against her neck even as he panted for breath. He rolled her over, her back and cloak to the grassy ground, and she turned her own blue eyes up to look at him, breath leaving her at the sight of his face ringed in a frosty, sunlight halo.
"Now I've got you. Got you so good, kitten." His voice was hoarse after chasing her so far, but it was warm and soft, love dripping on every word. He nuzzled at her cheek, under her ear, the hallow of her throat, warm with more than just the wool wrapped around their shoulders and the chase.
"You got me, Ry." She wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders, leaning up to nip at his jaw and nuzzle right back, gasping as he rolled his hips down to grind against hers with a groan.
"Radelle...."

History

The Cariadon Festival is as old as Haeren itself, and no one could quite tell you how it got started, only that it happens to coincide with the Brux mating season. There is an old superstition that children born around the same time as Brux cubs would be blessed with a strong bond later in life, but if that were the reason for the festival, it would be held in the fall, not the spring. 
Some people speculate that the cats were the ones who taught humans how to well, procreate, and so that's why the festival is held at the same time. The later may also explain the design of the coats worn by participants of "The Running", an imitation of their feline companions.
A great many people outside of Haeren that know of the Running consider it a somewhat barbaric practice. Romantic in a sense yes, but dangerous at a point and debasing. Haeren born folks just shrug their shoulders and challenge them to try it first before they really knock it.

Execution

Every Fort, Village and Hamlet does things a little bit differently, with the only identical event being the Running, which is held on the third day of the week long festival. The Forts are more inclined to hold tournaments events of strength, courage and skill while villages will band together to host festival markets and conduct games during the day so that their parents might get a bit of *ahem* alone time. Brux cats are let out of their barns and stables so that they might also roam and run while the Queen cats are in heat.
"The Running" as it is known, is the most anticipated event of the whole festival, and the only one that is observed at exactly the same time in every location across the country. Couples strip down to nothing, don their wool coats, and gather in the main square or other central location. When the bell tolls, they begin an elaborate game of chase combined with a bit of hide and seek. One partner always chases the other, sometimes a couple will predetermine who is chasing who, others prefer to let the moment take them and just go with it.
The Simple objective is this: Run for as long as you can, or until you are caught. The longer you run, supposedly the more luck you will have in the coming year with matters of fertility, child rearing, and love in general. Once you are caught you may either return to the village to get it on or as most people do, have it with wildly fantastic sex in the snow. Note. This ritual is not to be taken lightly. Many parents caution young lovers on undertaking it together when they aren't yet married, but some will run it regardless. Most participants are either those already married or those betrothed.

Components and tools

The Only necessary item is the coat. Couples can choose to reuse the same coat every year if they run it more than once (and a great many do) but others remake them year after year opting for a fresh start, a new chance. The brushed wool coats are made by hand every year, either by the participants themselves or by someone close to them. Coats are made to look like the person in question's bonded Brux, or if they have no Brux, then the Brux of their significant other. In the case of neither person being bonded, then coats of pure white are made.

Participants

Participants are nearly always married couples or those who are betrothed. Sometimes lovers without clear intentions will undertake the Running, but not often.

Observance

The Cariadon Festival is held February 12th through the 18th every year. Some years are warmer than others, to the joy of those running. The Running was only canceled once, temporarily, dues to a truly devastating blizzard that swept the mountainous nation practically over night. The Running was moved instead to the last day of the festival, much to many people concern.