Coconut Grove i like driving backwards in the fog

AW!

in a slow lope the derelict clambered the sandy rise, sand scattering beneath his bite-ridden limbs and calloused paws. with a final push the male crested the windbattered dune and rocked to a stop, sending a small tsunami of unearthed sand crumbling down the slope.

he had only one thought: he was hungry. while the grove and its verdant flush was unfamiliar to him, the sea was not -- he was a seafaring man through and through. a quick study of the mangroves that riddled the inlet showed that the tide was low; he could see on their stained roots the mark of brine and decay. he would make for the clear coastline, where he knew tidepools often housed trapped and isolated fish for the plucking.

the song is c'est mon ami, i'm too lazy to hovertranslate it

The shallow tidepools were filled with still water that had been warmed by the sun. Starbuck had found that the ocean was too cold for her liking, too cold and too rough. The waves had battered her ceaselessly, her slight frame tossed about by the tide like a leaf at the mercy of the wind. The tide pools, however, held a fascinating array of sea creatures. Starbuck had delighted in discovering each of them, from the hermit crab to the sea star. As she danced from pool to pool, she sand in her high, breathy voice.

Ah! s’il est dans votre village
Un berger sensible et charmant
Qu’on chérisse au premier moment
Qu’on aime ensuite davantage

She continued, singing on about a love she never had whilst exploring the coast. The air was redolent with the smell of brine and decay, a scent she would learn to associate with low tide. She longed for company, a kind and intelligent stranger who could tell her what the strange creatures she was finding were called. And, oh! Were any of them edible?

the salt that stung his nose covered the coywolf's scent, but the wind carried her lilting voice with ironbound clarity. the dredge immediately halted, cupping his crumbly ears forward in delight. a sea-lass, a water-maiden! she was a far cry from food, but she was company and she was female-- already murgash could feel his heart stir excitedly, among other things.

her voice was sweeter than any honey he had ever raided, and he was not disappointed when he at last laid eyes on her flitting frame. with a lick of his drool-ridden jowls the ramshackle wolf made to move towards her, his voice callous and rough as he made up his own words to sing along:

"oeey seleel vaas huchtuuunng
an glubbabubang whootaag forg
wubliing cha es vaah ermooont~"  he halted, a cheeky grin gracing his repulsive visage. "oye! whut's det thing ye singin' in, ye beauty?"

It was his voice that she first heard. It was a gravely voice, not one meant for fair things such as singing. That he butchered the words was irrelevant, his inability to carry a tune was insult enough. Startled by the sudden voice, Starbuck's head whipped to find its source. 

He was a fair sight uglier than his voice. Starbuck might have recoiled at the sight of his drooping jowles, which dripped with thick saliva in a most unappealing manner. She might have, had she not been raised to pity the unfortunate, not fear them. Still, the sight of him struck her with great uneasiness. And though she normally took compliments for what they were, she did not trust it.

Still, she was not rude, and perhaps this beast needed kind attention. It is the French language, kind stranger, she said. A beautiful language, one meant for poetry and song.

He was not oblivious to the unease his condition caused the fair lady, nor the surprise his sudden appearance had instigated. A wide grin cracked his desolate muzzle resolutely, as if the genuine expression would evince from the maiden all remnants of nervousness or mistrust. 

Yet the slovenly beast was not a creature to trust lightly, and Starbuck was correct in her initial reaction. He took no care to hide the want in his gaze as his eyes raked her form, nor did he try to shield her from the sight of his thick tongue as it hungrily wiped across his drool-laden nose. "a pretty song fer a pretty lass. will ye sing summore uv it then?"

There was not much about the stranger that Starbuck liked, but her heart was moved by pity, not by fear. The way he looked at her rankled the most, as well as the way he seemed determined to be unpleasant. Still, even the wretched deserved kindness. With this in mind, Starbuck took up her song again, the notes of its refrain high and clear.

C’est mon ami
Rendez-le moi
J’ai son amour
Il a ma foi

With the refrain finished, she let her voice trail off again and looked to him, hoping he was pleased enough to leave her be, or at least to stop looking at her like that. There are fairer things than I to behold, good stranger. All about me these pools hold sea-dwelling creatures. They are strange and beautiful things, and may also be good to eat, if that is what you wish. Perhaps he was hungry, he seemed as though food would do him some good.

the filthy curmudgeon lifted his muzzle as she obliged his request, feeling the wind as it balmily passed by his swarthy face and carried the high notes of her honeyed voice seaward. he felt a stirring in his gut that was not hunger -- a stirring no gluttonous feast could appease. along his soft belly and hips he felt another thing stir; and this thing was far more primal.

he did not hide the physical accentuation of his excitement -- he felt no shame for the stiffened member that throbbed beneath him. he swung his blocky head to her and looked her level, drool lavishly expelling from his slack lips. "whut else is on det menu?" he crooned heavily, his clouded gaze upon her slender frame with tantalizing longing. boldly and unapologetically the heathen closed the gap between them, aching for the warm closeness of her flesh.

It was impossible not to notice the hardening of flesh, and Starbuck recoiled, disgust now plain upon her countenance. The beast was too brazen, too foul to pity any longer. Where she had looked upon his mangy hide and felt sympathy, she now thought it a fitting reflection of the filth within.

Her steps were equal and opposite; for every step he took nearer, she drew away. Come no closer, she ordered in a voice not meant to command. She was not a violent creature, but fear makes animals of all, and it was fear that bubbled up in her then. I do not wish to hurt you, but I will. Her lips drew back in an unrehearsed snarl.

he was consumed with want, and naturally, assumed that starbuck's inner nature would be complicit with his desires. she would comply, she had to -- and as he neared her he felt the swell of his loin and the rash, overcoming rush of his desire. blood pounded both in his head and in his girth, and for a moment taking her was all he could think of.

but his lust was unrequited, and he saw disgust blemish her otherwise beautiful visage. there was something else in there -- contempt -- its presence stung him.

"come on, luv --" he pleaded, though it sickened him to know she was compelled by his presence.  as a male, he had always assumed the possession of a woman was his birthright, his claim -- but she was denying him his pleasure. he took another step forward, still possessed of an ungodly fervor. "don't ye want it?" he queried, canting his flank in her direction to show her his 'flattering size side'.

starbuck outie. good thread, go team

No! she cried, her heart thud, thud, thudding in her ear urging her to flee. Her instincts cried run! but her legs remained locked. It was only when he turned again, the heavy flesh of his arousal impossible to look away from in all of the worst ways, that her legs once again cooperated with her desires. No, there is nothing you can give me, Starbuck said. I pray you learn manners. With that she gave into the desire to flee, running from the spot to seek the cover of the forest.

well this was a mood-killer -- as interested as he was in getting to know starbuck quite intimately, she was equally as uninterested; it was an ugly, unfair balancing act and murgash was stung by her rejection.

for a moment that anger overcame him and he considered possessing her, seizing her and making her comply -- but that second that he took to think was all she needed to make decent headway.

"foine!" he bellowed after her, slapping the ground with an angry fist. "i pray ye learn wot a real man luks loike!" he hollered, knowing by now she was long gone. he was left alone and unsatisfied and with a grumpy snarl resumed combing the beach for food.