of reindeer and green balloons {m}

LOL MATURE AND STUFF

@Hawkeye [nsv][bdp] ;D

It was good to be here, reunited with his brothers once more. Life had begun to take on some semblance of normalcy these past weeks, and Atticus was finding a comfortable routine. He enjoyed his new packlands, appreciated the serene beauty that lingered amidst the winter-bare trees and the newfound camaraderie he was finding in his packmates. The pack at Blacktail Deer Plateau shared a close-knit bond with one another and functioned as a single, efficient, well-maintained machine. While he hadn't quite earned the trust of all of his packmates, nor had he had sufficient time to become a central part of the pack, he already felt as if he belonged.

As he trotted idly across the withered, leaf-strewn forest floor, gliding through the trees living a living shadow and making scarcely a sound, he considered co-ranks. He had never really held one before. They had been a big thing back at home, but he'd never really officially secured a ~title~ for himself. He just…did what needed to be done. He had hunted, he had guarded, he had scouted and spied and babyshat (omg lmfao I have to leave that) – babysat – and everything in between…but he had never held the concrete title of any one specific skill. He wondered now what his brothers might do themselves, and what job might best suit him personally.

ooc: lmao the reindeer pooping a balloon! ahahaha

OH MY GAWD I JUST SAW THE TITLE LMFAO

Hawkeye watched the borders carefully, watching for any intruders. She sighed, deciding on taking a break. It seemed as if the influx of members had calmed down. She woofed and ran through the trees to entertain herself, jumping left and right, trying to practice her agility.

Another woof whipped from her mouth (mostly in excitement) as her eyes lay upon a handsome male. A smile formed on her face mischievously. "Hey, Atticus, how's the penis it hanging?" She wished to mention the joke from the previous time they had met, but found herself blushing instead. It would be odd to bring that up now that they were alone, and she would leave it be unless he said anything pertaining to his anatomy.

Damn woman you're fast!! Too lazy to bother with table coding right now.

He inhaled, relishing the fragrances of wood and winter and cool earth that filled his lungs and infused him with a sense of rightness and well-being. His mouth watered at the sweetness of the fresh air, a little shiver running down the length of his spine. His heart soared and, with it, his mood. Unable to resist giving in to his lifted spirits, he picked up his pace and slid through the forest at a long, gliding lope.

Suddenly, a movement caught his eye – another living phasma of shadow and darkness slid toward him through the stately oaks. Light danced and shifted, auroralike, over the planes and curves of her body in subtle ribbons of blue and silver. Eyes like green lightning flashed and glittered, and Atticus was breathless with admiration. His Alphess, his queen. As she drew nearer, his head swam, his heart danced and quivered in his chest, his blood simultaneously sang and roared in his ears. The sweet fragrance, that heady perfume that had him so drunk, it was her. As she approached him, quipping a friendly greeting, he flashed her an embarrassed grin as he felt his cheeks flush beneath his black fur. Her choice of words recalled to him the bantering jokes they'd exchanged (mostly at Peregrine's expense) on the day he'd been accepted into the pack. But more than that, now more than ever, he was keenly aware of exactly "how it was hanging".

"Hi, Hawkeye," he replied, a smile dancing on his lips and in his eyes. "It's uh...hangin' quite nicely. It's…well hung." He couldn't help it. There was a gentlemanly side of him that wanted to strangle and beat the crap out of himself just then for being so vulgar, but the other side of him? The foul-mouthed Redleaf side? Just couldn't let that opportunity go to waste. He chuckled, embarrassed and thoroughly ashamed of himself AND YET SO PROUD, and stepped forward to lick his Alpha's chin in a show of respect, adoration, and deference. "How're you, lately?"

Hawkeye felt words catch in her throat, both at what Atticus had just spoken and the kiss he planted on her face. "Well, I would not expect any less of you after what your brother said." Her voice shook in quiet anticipation. Warmth swallowed her belly and pooled there. She watched him with sharp eyes, scrutinizing every action he performed.

"I am doing quite well now." She left it at that, allowing the tall, black male to assume she meant that she was doing better with him here. "And how are you, Atticus? What have you been up to with your trouble-making brothers?" Hawkeye figured he would also fill her in on his time alone, but tried for small-talk.

He chuckled at her retort, his mirth rumbling deep in his chest and his tail waving affably behind him. He liked her quick wit and her sharp tongue; there was something alluring about a feisty, fiery woman who could hold her own among a bunch of obnoxious, classless males. An electric sort of energy hummed through her, almost seeming to vibrate out to the very ends of her whiskers. Atticus felt it too; his heart fluttered, fickle and birdlike, within the cage of his chest and his insides quivered and shook. He felt both cold and hot, terrified and fearless, as though he could rise up and, spartanlike, wrestle the very universe to the ground at his feet if only he could crawl out from under the rock under which he hid.

This beast, this hurricane, this force of nature that was Hawkeye…he stood before her and he was nothing. He was a leaf in the wind, a tattered flag in a gale. He could not possibly hope to rise up and meet her, for she was so much more magnificent than he'd ever be.

And that made him want her all the more, like the cowboy lusts after the wild, fire-eyed mustang. He knows he cannot tame it, yet that knowledge only makes him covet it all the more.

"Trouble," he replied, his dark baritone voice almost a purr, relishing the word as he spoke it. "Is what we do best, I am sure you know. But I have spent much time considering how best I might serve you, my lady." He realized, belatedly, that he could have made a great pun with that.

The knowledge that his brother courted this woman lingered in the back of his mind like a dark cloud, a shadowy specter he tried to ignore. Courting did not mean mated. Not yet.

A blush bloomed like a rose upon Hawkeye's cheeks. She felt the gaze that lingered from Atticus' pale, frosty eyes, and this piqued her curiosity. He was as dark as she, but blue, instead of steely grey, danced upon his fur with the sinking sunlight that poured through the trees.

A smile quirked at her lip's edge. "You flatter me, Atticus. Just keep doing what you're doing and you'll please me." Voice lingering a bit, Hawkeye was not sure whether she meant his actions at the moment or those he was performing outside of her sight.

A tiny, smirking smile crept into the inky line of her lips and Atticus seized on it, taking delight in knowing that he had put it there. He felt like a teenager, a fumbling, punch-drunk juvenile experiencing his first moment alone with someone on whom he had a raving-mad crush. He'd never before experienced the allure of a female in her season, and while he did not know that was what was going on, he was nevertheless ensnared in her web.

He licked his lips, daring to say, "I would...ask my Alphess how I might please her the most." It was the most loaded question he'd ever asked anybody in his life, but she could interpret it however she wanted. He swallowed nervously, his lean body tense and nearly quivering with the excitement that her presence ignited within him.

Hawkeye could not stay serious, and laughter burst from her chest. "Atticus, are you flirting with me right now? She had to admit, he was one of the handsome three brothers, and was just as charming as Peregrine, but in a different way. Where Peregrine was crass but sweet in private, he was also purely male and a horndog; Atticus had a certain grace about him, and was dangerously charming in the way that he might just talk his way into a position behind any female he talked to (and that female currently being Hawkeye).

At her burst of laughter, Atticus felt a hot flush come over his cheeks and knew he was blushing ridiculously red beneath his dark fur. Thank goodness for black fur. He felt a fleeting moment of embarrassment and annoyance, but quickly dismissed it, instead allowing a goofy, crooked smile to come over his face. He giggled with her, his chuckle coming out more like a deep, rumbling purr than an actual laugh, and bright, glacial light shimmered merrily in the depths of his eyes. "Maybe," he answered with an overdramatic shrug of his shoulders. "So what if I am?" he asked her teasingly, a slyness creeping into the smile he still wore and his tail waving playfully behind him

His eyes shone with something fatal, and she felt a heaviness pool in her tummy. Her green orbs shimmered in return, and the gentle sway of his tail made something primal rise in her.

"Well," she said bravely and matter-of-factly, "I suppose maybe I like it." Her voice became quiet and sultry with the last words, something overcoming her and causing her body to rule her mind. It slid into a fog as she peered into Atticus' eyes with something that edged on a lurid gaze.

He gazed into her eyes, brilliant pools of verdigris set in her dark, noble face like shimmering gems. But beautiful as she was to behold, he could not hold her gaze for long. The power that lingered there, the majesty and greatness that made her his Alpha and Queen, was too much for a mere subordinate to brazenly look upon, and so he glanced away with each fleeting glimpse he dared to steal. Her words came to him like a branding iron, making him burn and sear inside with the subtle heat they bore. He had not expected her to reciprocate his feelings or his advances, and yet…here she was, doing exactly that. She truly was a creature of mystery and intrigue, a living shadow every bit as secretive and surprising as true darkness itself.

He glanced at her again, a veiled mixture of desire and wariness in his eyes, and continued in a voice just barely above a low, dark whisper, "I suppose maybe I like it too." He quivered with anticipation, dying to reach out and touch her but fearful that to do so would somehow disturb and break the suspended magic that hung in the air around them.

Electricity popped between the two dark beasts, and Hawkeye smirked as the male looked from her intense gaze and stole looks that came and went; the boil intensified and bubbled every time he did so.

His words made her body quiver, and she imagined him running his nose along the side of her body. The fantasy made her eyes shut in a lusty look as she took a step forward.

The energy between them sizzled like a downed powerline, and just when Atticus thought he might spontaneously combust from the heat and pressure within him, she took a step forward.

Toward him.

He did the same and suddenly, they were touching.

A white-hot lance of lust and desire broke free from the coiled mass of anticipation in his throat and raced down the length of his belly to embed itself firmly in his loins. A very uncomfortable fire began to kindle in that general area and Atticus – virgin that he still was – blushed hotly. He closed his eyes and nuzzled her neck, trailing downward to leave a stinging kiss on her shoulder. The enchanting fragrance of her, so clean and wild and savagely female, drowned him and swept him away.

Without her remembering through the fog, they were suddenly touching.

As he kissed her neck, a rumble formed in her chest in almost a purr-like fashion. Quickly, the lust-filled female turned to nip gently at his her and the thick fur surrounding his neck. She then licked the area and her hot breath wove itself into the thin hairs of his ear.

He felt the shock of a toothy kiss planted upon his hot skin, the heat of her affections burning through his obsidian fur as if it were not there. He felt her tongue, soft and warm, upon his neck and a deep, dark, purring growl rose up within him to meet her own. He traced his muzzle down her side, relishing the way her thick, plush coat felt as it glided past his nose. She was muscular, strong, a truly majestic creature of power, grace, and untamed beauty. She was a thunderstorm, and he the leaves tossed and blown in her wind. His teeth found her hip and nipped her softly, carefully, his body tensed like that of a snake handler who fully expected his viper to strike.

A frustrated growl rose in her throat and she turned, eyes burning like a fire that could never be tamed or kept. She pounced on the male without warning, tackling him to the forest's pillowy floor, bits of snow flying up around and fluttering to encase them. She slapped her jaws on his throat, administering dominance, and then left a flurry of kisses upon his chest, driving them lower until she reached his stomach.

………*quietly puts a mature thing in the title of this thread* >_______>

And sure enough, the viper struck. She whirled on him, breathtaking black lightning, and before he knew what had happened, he was lying on his back. Glittering fangs, white as the pallor of cold, stony death, pressed into his throat as thunder rumbled dangerously over her tongue. A line of vicious kisses followed, trailing over his chest and down his belly. It was too much. He couldn't take it anymore. With a violent snarl he pulled himself up from the ground, pushing her back from him as he did so. He was on his feet, quick as a cat, and pulling himself onto Hawkeye's back. He grasped her nape savagely in his jaws and encircled her taut waist with his forelegs. The thunder he'd heard in her seconds before now resonated within him, a ceaseless snarl muffled in the ebony fur between his teeth.

As he wound his way around her, a thud hit Hawkeye in the chest. What am I doing?! she screamed at herself, but she did not stop him.

Not until she felt him poking around. Then she really had time to think. "Wait!" She panted out, groaning inwardly. Not wanting to stop, but mind protesting, she slammed her rear to the ground and ducked out from under Atticus. "I-I can't do this, Atticus. Not when-Peregrine. I mean, he..." Stopping there, the midnight wolf had no idea what was pouring from her mouth. Nor did she know what had overtaken her in that moment which was burned into her memory like the fire that absorbed her eyes moments before.

It was funny, the way things sometimes worked. It was as if Peregrine himself had suddenly swept down upon them, for at nearly the same instant that Hawkeye suddenly changed her mind, so did Atticus. Perched precariously atop her, face buried in the lush fur of her mane, shapely waist firmly gripped in his arms, embarrassing parts of him sticking her in just about every place except where it was supposed to go, Atticus had a moment of clarity and realized with horror what he was doing. He had no qualms about screwing a chick he'd only known a few days. He was a wolf. That was what wolves did.

He had a problem with screwing his brother over, though.

She abruptly sat down, but before her rear even touched the ground, he was already pushing himself away from her. His ears were firmly flattened against his skull, his tail tucked in shame, anger and confusion ablaze in his eyes. "What the f—!" he shouted, his voice harsh and irate. Quickly he looked at her, and his tone softened…a little. "Not you. I mean. What the hell am I...are we…doing?" He couldn't understand what had possessed him so completely to take his brother's girlfriend without even a casual thought to Peregrine's claim on her. Had it been any other male, it wouldn't have mattered. May the best man win, mothafucka. But with his brothers, the rules were different. This was Perry. "Holy shitballs. Hawkeye. I'm sorry, but…I don't even know what happened." He looked at her with wide eyes, imagining that she felt very much the same.

"I-I know. I just, well, I mean, your eyes, they, you know... and then you said..." She frowned, not knowing exactly what she was explaining or where the situation was going. "Can we... just act like this never happened? I'm sorry that I got carried away, Atticus." Nervousness tightened her chest, and the desire to flee filled her, but she was a grown wolf — an Alpha &amdash; and she would deal with this properly.

He just stared at her, shell-shocked and stunned into momentary silence, as she did her best to stammer out an awkward explanation. "No, I'm sorry," he replied when he finally gathered his wits enough to speak, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head vigorously. "I know better. This is my brother, for fuck's sake. My best friend." Quickly, he rose to his feet and, with completely deferent, submissive body posture, licked her chin — a display of respect from subordinate to Alpha. "I won't breathe a word of this. Perry would probably kill us both anyway."

"No," she rushed out and backed away from his submission. "Don't do that, Atticus. Things — they're fine. I don't want you submitting to me. Just... don't. Please." Her eyes, which had been roaming the tousled snow, slammed to Atticus', and she felt her breath catch. There was just something about his eyes that did things to her body. They pierced her in a way she felt that could never be matched.

He held her gaze for a moment, faint tendrils of the energy they'd shared moments ago drifting between them once more. There was something between them, a strange sort of chemistry, that no other male's claim upon her could break. But it would have to stay buried within him, caged securely inside, where Peregrine would never see it. His brother knew of his feelings for Hawkeye, but he did not know how far down the roots of those feelings went. Atticus had a feeling that if Peregrine ever found out exactly where those "roots" had almost been, what followed would not be so different from what had brought him here in the first place.

He swallowed. Or, more accurately, gulped. "I care for you, Hawkeye. I can't change that, regardless of who courts you." His voice was soft, a tenderness in his eyes that he rarely showed to anybody. If he showed this side of himself around his brothers, Peregrine swiftly labeled him "gay" and proceeded to joke him about it for hours afterward. "If it were any other man, I would ravage you senseless. But…" He half-smiled up at her, the sly, sexy wickedness undeniable on his face, though it did not reach his eyes. "We'll pretend this never happened. Perry doesn't need to know. It's better that way." Thinly-veiled sadness lingered in those pools of blue ice.

The power and gentleness shown in his eyes made her breath catch. There was no way to describe the way it made her feel. But she did know that, at this moment, she wished she could run away and shirk all future encounters and responsibilities. The true desire, deep down, was to not forget this day, though she knew she must; it was selfish of her to hold onto such things, especially when pack needs were to come first. There would be some days where she would forget, but others that would give the memory in waves and stay in her head all day, surroundings quiet but head roaring with question.

"Yes," she finally said after a bit of silence. "We will keep this forever quiet, Atticus." After a beat, she added, "Unless there was anymore you'd like to talk about, we should get going, I suppose." Her words lingered in the air like the bout of kisses she had so recently applied to his belly. The desire for this moment to never end squeezed her tightly, but she knew that it must eventually, whether sooner or later.

Great thread! <3

His eyes lingered on her, tracing the contours of her noble face, her strong jaw, her enrapturing gaze, and remembering the stinging kisses her sharp teeth had left on his body. His belly still burned with the electric sensation of those kisses, his tongue still danced with the taste of her, the warmth of her body still suffused into him and gave him strength, a sense of power and masculinity.

But it was not to be. "We should," he conceded, stepping forward to touch his nose to her chin one last time. His eyes caught hers once more, and there was apology clear in them. He was sorry for what had happened, but he wasn't sorry for what it had revealed to her. He started to bid her goodbye, but in a way, that would have ended whatever had begun here and he didn't have the heart to do that. So, stepping away from her, he turned quietly and padded off into the sparse forest.