Wolf RPG

The sky purpled like a bruise as twilight fell over the kingdom by the sea. There was a stiff breeze whipping through the woods as Wildfire carried a kill back to the hollow redwood tree. It smelled like rain. There was another scent too, a hint of cloying sweetness that tickled her nostrils even more tantalizingly than the metallic odor of fresh blood. As she arrived at their makeshift den, Wildfire felt her heart skipping and soaring with mounting excitement.

Dropping the dead rabbit outside the door, she thrust her muzzle inside and squinted. Was @Thuringwethil there?

No.

But she’s not far behind.

She’d picked up the change in the wind, following after what she thinks is fresh blood, and saliva pools in her mouth. Thuringwethil licks her lips as she approaches quietly, finding Wildfire with her head halfway into the trunk they shared. She gives the slain rabbit only half a glance, deciding it is not what she hungers for. Teeth nip gently at the back of Wildfire’s thigh, near the base of her tail, and a soft growl from the depths of her chest.

A sharp nip caused Wildfire to jump slightly. She whirled, quickly overcoming her surprise as a smile played about her lips. She growled playfully and batted a paw at the commander, her nose pressing to the other woman's neck. Her lips peeled back from her teeth as she applied her own nips, though as they trailed down the commander's throat, they grew softer, becoming kisses.

After a moment, she drew back reluctantly. Wildfire didn't need to say the words. The overt flirtations and the sweet fragrance threading through the air said everything. If they were going to expand their family this year, now was the time. Of course, Thuringwethil couldn't do the honors—they would have to seek out their chosen donor for that—but, for the moment, the Feisripa wanted attentions from one wolf only: Heda.

vIt has been a long time since she’s felt herself again and even longer since she’s felt it with Wildfire. Their interactions, intimate or otherwise, have taken some getting used to. The last few weeks have settled into a familiar routine, the war falling into a memory—and their new neighbors can wait, for the time being—and they can continue on and think about the future. Thuringwethil closes her eyes and leans in through the woman’s playfulness and returns a growl when teeth touch against her neck.

In another world, they’d be able to do this together.

“Where do you want to go?” she murmurs, turning into the fiery fur and nudging her along. She can’t help but stay close, keeping pressed close somewhere between protectiveness and a desire to keep her for herself.

The red she-wolf hummed thoughtfully at her mate's question, chestnut eyes dancing in the gathering gloom. "Wherever you think is best, Thur," she answered demurely, "just as long as it's not a cave." She managed a low chortle, despite the seriousness of the request. But she knew her mate already knew and would never force her anywhere she didn't want to go, even for the sake of privacy and protection.

"I know we need to gather Ette," she said in the next breath, "but it's only just beginning and I'm in no hurry. I just want to be with you for a little while. Let's steal away," she invited before planting a particularly emphatic smooch on the commander's swarthy face and springing away, dropping into a bow and wiggling her hips and butt suggestively.

Thuringwethil looks at Wildfire a moment, ears twitching when she mentions the cave. Her expression falls blank for a few seconds but she sweeps it away, following along with darkened eyes as the fiery woman bounds away. As she swoops back and bows, she arches a brow with a swish of her curved tail. She lets the anxiety slip from her mind, refocusing to what’s in front of her.

“It’s not fair, is it,” she observes with a slight wrinkle to her nose. She moves forward in an attempt to forget the negativity. They can ignore the technicality most days but where it seems to count most, she’s much more aware of what has to happen. Thuringwethil swoops in the next moment, coming up next to the playful woman. “Let’s go north,” she suggests, and gives her a nudge, and nip of her side, to urge her forward.

Although she made no reply to her mate's comment, Wildfire couldn't help but muse a moment. What if Thuringwethil could do it herself? But then she'd have to be a male... and that thought made the Feisripa recoil. Not because she didn't like men (she'd loved one, once) but because she couldn't imagine changing her mate in any way. Sure, their approach to family life was unorthodox. But it was only one tiny aspect of it that didn't really matter in the end. The children that their pack mate would conceive with her would belong to them just the same as if Thuringwethil herself had seeded them.

"Okay," she replied, smiling at the commander's flirtatious nip. "What's north?" she wondered, trottinge eagerly after the larger woman.

Thuringwethil doesn’t answer right away, playfully looking over and offering a bump shoulder to much-shorter-shoulder. There isn’t much obvious motive behind where she’s going. The garden where Kendra is buried is the only notable location, but she does not slow to a stop when they are in proximity. The redwoods come short of the cliffs in the northern reaches of the territory, leaving an open clearing over the ledge. Below are large boulders and a small beach, expanding further north into an endless view.

When they reach the clearing, she steps closer to the woman and rubs her muzzle along her own.

It’s small, but there, where the last remaining trudges of the sun shines on them, a patch of purple flowers. They may not be the same, or very big, as the early signs of spring begins to filter into their lives.

“We had a place to go on Sleeping Dragon, not too far, and I don’t think the others come up this way much,” she says, takes a breath, and continues, “I thought we should have that again.” It isn’t away from the territory, but she does not have interest in taking Wildfire outside of Drageda any time soon and they can have the same thing right at home.

She trailed after her mate, simply enjoying her presence and the sense of building anticipation as Thuringwethil led her northbound. When they arrived at their destination—a secluded clearing with quite the view—Wildfire's eyes immediately fell upon the patch of violets. She stepped toward them, lowering her smudged muzzle and breathing deeply of their fragrance. When she lifted her head again, she peered over her shoulder blade at the commander, the promise of spring and new life still tickling her nose.

"Mochof," she said with a twinkle in her eye, pivoting to pad back toward her mate and bump her black cheek with her nose. "It's perfect. Especially the flowers," which were, of course, a throwback to their previous retreat. She wondered if this was where Étoille would eventually join them. It was certainly quiet, with plenty of privacy. But she decided she'd rather not bring him here. This was theirs alone.

"Let's watch the moon rise," she invited, the words spoken quietly against the cinder fur of Thuringwethil's cheek. She moved nearer to the ledge. "And cuddle, of course," she added with a flirtatious smile and a playful twitch of her dark tail. "Then we can go find Étoille when the stars come out. I mean, that's fitting, right?"

Thuringwethil keeps her eyes on her mate, watching her response as she sees their new location. Even if there were somewhere nearby, outside the territory, Thuringwethil would still prefer this. Acting as Wildfire’s guard herself doesn’t settle the nerves she feels, letting the woman leave their claim, and so she is happy that the woman enjoys what she’s managed to put together.

As Wildfire presses up against her, moving along and finding a place for them to settle, she brings up Étoille again. This time, she nods, agreeing to the same thing. They don’t have to share this with anyone, if she can help it.

She moves after her, lowering herself to the ground rather quickly and squishing some of the flowers. Looking up at Wildfire, she thumps the ground once and invites her in, getting comfortable in their new spot.

A comfortable silence fell around them as they settled, wound tightly together, gazes lingering between the view and one another's faces. Wildfire suppressed the instinctual urges building within her, simply taking the time to enjoy these private, quiet moments with her lover. At some point, she actually relaxed so much that she fell into a drowse. She had no idea how long she slept, though when she stirred again, she felt nearly boneless with warmth and contentment. She yawned lightly and stretched, thrilling as the movement pressed her body even more firmly into the commander's.

When she glanced upward, the stars were twinkling down at them. Wildfire felt a rush of excitement sweep through her like, well, wildfire. As much as she hated to burst the little bubble of solitude they'd established here, the Feisripa knew it was time to get down to business. Now that the hour had arrived, she honestly wanted to get through it as quickly as possible. It wasn't that she minded their chosen donor and she was going to be very happy with the results, of course. But the actual act was awkward at best and uncomfortable at worst, especially given her history.

"It's time, Thur," she whispered into her mate's ear, slowly rising and stretching some more. "Let's go find Étoille."

With the fiery woman in her grasp, she noses around and relaxes on the ground. For a little while, she doesn’t have to deal with what’s going on in Drageda and she doesn’t have to be Heda. Shedding it for the night to give her mate her full attention isn’t going to hurt anyone and it has taken long enough to realize it, given the encouragement she’s acquired over time that having a family isn’t such a bad thing.

When Wildfire moves a little, letting her know it’s time, she stays on the ground a moment longer as the smaller woman gets to her feet. Thuringwethil takes a deep breath and moves forward, standing to her feet and shaking out her fur. “Lead the way,” she tells her softly so she may find the place she is most comfortable and leans forward, nose to nose encouragingly.

When the commander instructed her to lead the way, Wildfire pondered a moment. The caves were out of the question, so where should they do this? She supposed the tree would work, although they wouldn't actually be able to convene inside it; it was much too cramped for that. They would likely have to do it out in the open, a thought which Wildfire suddenly found appealing. It was dark and quiet, with the stars shining softly down on them. Her children would be seeded by starlight.

"Let's head back to the tree," she murmured to Thuringwethil, walking slowly despite the building anticipation and nerves. Her mind wandered as they walked. She thought of the wolf they were about to call and what he'd done for this pack. He hadn't even known her from Eve when he'd risked his life to help save hers. Thinking of Étoille made her mind flicker briefly over her time at Blackfeather Woods. The commander's worst fear had come true—Wildfire had been taken, their bond resulting in a war—but they had proved they could conquer even the worst nightmares together.

When they arrived beside the hollow redwood, Wildfire softly nosed her mate's cheek. She then howled softly for @Étoille, nose pointed directly at the brightest star in the sky.

When she’s given direction she moves, occasionally lowering her nose to touch her mate in some form. Behind her ears, her cheek, the top of her head, whatever she comes to first. It had been hard, months ago, to picture them getting to this point but they’d overcome and pieced themselves back together, all over again. She can enjoy what they’ve become, and their little family—soon to be not so little anymore—and continue on despite the hardships the outside world throws at them.

They near the tree and she does not move away from Wildfire, even during the call, and patiently she waits for the brute to show. When he arrives, offering a greeting in his mother tongue, she nods once in response and lowers her nose to press against her mate encouragingly.

He didn't make them wait, arriving promptly and bringing with him a sense of nerves that made Wildfire's own stomach fill with butterflies. Deciding it was easiest to avoid hesitation and simply jump into it, she kissed the commander's cheek and then slunk forth toward Étoille.

"Bonjour," she echoed inexpertly, offering him a small smile before motioning for him to follow. She slithered past him—drenching the air with her scent as she went—but did not go far. Wildfire remained within view of the tree she and Thuringwethil called home even as she peered over one slender red shoulder blade, eyes starry as she steadied herself for what was to come: conception, pregnancy, delivery and the second blossoming of their star-crossed family tree.