Duck Lake i. shock and denial
suspended between survival and civility
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#1
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backdated to 02.15.18

❝  did I disappoint you
or leave a bad taste in your mouth?
you act like you never had love
and you want me to go without  ❞
 


she walked at first.

a steady lope, legs moving methodically (one-two-one-two) as she forced her way out of the valley.  she dared not to look back at those miserable wenches who had soiled the only place she had allowed herself to call home.  her breath came short, shallow and ragged as it left the gentle part of her jaws, trembling and hitching in her throat.  the radio collar weighed heavy around her neck.

as soon as she knew she was out of sight, her pace kicked up to a trot.  the further she got from the valley the faster she fled, until she was barreling through the meadow at a full gallop.  adrenaline continued to course through her body and she knew she would soon tire from its chemical jolt. she knew she must place distance between herself and those women, between herself and alexander.

behind all that screamed a thought — it couldn't be. it couldn't be!  but it was.  and maybe that would have been easier to come to terms with if bearclaw valley had burned to the ground, if some supernatural disaster had whisked away those blessed lands.

but they hadn't.  it was at the hands of those querulous redleaf sisters with their wicked motivations.  the dark wolf with no name had not yet accepted that perhaps she had a hand in her own demise, no.  it was those girls who had ruined everything for her, and xan, too.

everything had happened so fast —


 ...stumbling into the forest to uncover the girl teasing alexander with the gentle, churlish canter of her hips as she burrowed into the thick of his pelt and the ensuing encounter with the waspish women; her alabaster friend's tongue grazing across her muzzle in assurance when a howl rose at the borders...

 ...the pack hunt, where xan had reprimanded her for eating, yet allowing the redleaf sisters to devour the moose that the pack had brought down...

 ...the skirmish between herself and the iniquitous girls, where she had caught a whiff of the alpha's scent on the one who had been flaunting so boldly in front of her... 



— and she knew what it had meant.  it was just as she thought: alexander had tricked her, he had used her, and once he had his fill he moved onto the women who had always been there for him, and likely always would be.

it wounded her, settled deep within her chest and swelled there until it became almost intolerable, suffocating.

she slowed once she had put a considerable distance between herself and that once-hallowed valley, panting heavily as she came to a halt.  blood pooled down her face and muzzle, blotting the snow beneath her as she settled.
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#2
The few streaks of sunlight glistened off of the sharp incisors as the gaping mouth opened in a frustrated yawning growl. Being delayed yet again did not set well with the beast as he slunk across the land. As the clouds blotted the sun, the darkened blot swiveled his ears around, pale eyes slipping over the barren whiteness. He scowled, his paws crunching the new fallen snow underneath his feet. Her scent was gone. His chest rumbled, the scowl deepening. Yet he tried to calm himself, for patience was a necessary evil here.
Shaking out his pelt, the inky blackness stood out starkly against this bright landscape. His heavy breath billowed before his muzzle then dissipated as quickly as it had been created.

He was so close. He could feel it. Yet he could not reach her, and the thought of that made it difficult for him to see the value in waiting.

Difficult, but not impossible as he picked up his saunter, the stillness only broken by a few birds. As the female crossed his mind, another crossed his line of sight, and he slowed down, his eyes going over. Something encircled her neck, and his brow lifted. Red trailed behind her, and his mouth turned up into a twisted smile. Easily, his feet moved him again as he crossed the distance between them, his mumbled words caught away on the wind.

Poor soul. Let's help her, shall we?
The roses are wilted,
The violets are dead,
The demons run circles
Round and round in my head.
suspended between survival and civility
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#3

she trembled, tucked beneath the aspen.  by now, the sun had been swallowed by the horizon, the last rays of sunlight trickling from view.

she could not hear his words or dechiper his tone for now the wind was swirling about them, biting the tips of her ears.

her brows furrowed together as her ears slid back against her skull, and a whine fell from her parted lips.  what did he want from her?  no, no, she did not want company.

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#4
Her trembling left a glint in his eye as he stepped closer, going over her as one would prey. She had gotten beaten, and the thought of one so weak made his blackened tongue snake out of his mouth and over his maw.

He approached slowly at first, him knowing the mistake of under estimating his opponent as he swept her frame again with his pale eyes. Then the wind changed, and he froze, his notrils flaring. It was the female's scent, yet...she had her scent. The own he owned.

His eyes pierced hers for a brief moment before a calm covered his want. His lips turned up into a smile, twisted, eerie. Stepping closer, he flicked his tail. Voice polite, for now, he spoke, his first instincts going toward his smooth words.

Hello, wolfess. You seem wounded. Do you need help?
The roses are wilted,
The violets are dead,
The demons run circles
Round and round in my head.
suspended between survival and civility
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#5

she studies him as she watches his eyes harden, the pull of his lips.  his moonbeam gaze pierces through her and she continues quaking.

she can feel his need, she can smell it.  it causes her hackles to ripple, and her lip raises as he begins to speak.  a low growl vibrates deep within her throat.  go away.

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#6
He could feel her agression towards him, and he knew this wasn't the time for smooth words. Her hackles rose, and the growl reached his ears.

His responded the same, rising over his back like a dark storm rose over the horizon...dark, foreboding. Rumbling from his throat, his voice was more of a growl. You have the smell of my wolfess on you...Onyx. Where is she? 

His words broke through the noise of the wind like thunder as he snarled and lurked forward.
The roses are wilted,
The violets are dead,
The demons run circles
Round and round in my head.
suspended between survival and civility
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#7

she could feel that she was about to get herself into trouble again but could not resist; this man had approached her and accosted her once more just for existing and her patience had already been broken and worn down by those girls.

she did not know if it was better or worse coming from a man.

he speaks, addresses her, but of course she is incapable of understanding.  the wild woman, the wolf with no name, would likely always be on the outside of conversation.

she stands to meet him.  she is no longer growling, but her ears have pushed forward and her tail begins to arc and sway.  her gaze focuses on the brute, intense as she strides towards him.  

she could smell his desires.

she just didn't know that they were for her softer friend back in the valley.  

she circles his side, running herself almost within reach and she remembers something

...her brother's return and being reunited.  she runs herself along the thick of his pelt and peppers him with kisses.  she feels alexander behind her, unhappy and jealous about her contact with this strange man.  like an obedient dog, she returns to his side at his command...

not this time.  she growls again but it is merely a vocalization, something curious but ultimately feral.

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#8
Her gaze met his, and for once in his life, respect for a female rolled across his mind. Yet it only lasted a moment as his pride rose, and his lips curled up, his incisors sharp as the cold wind that whipped around him.

Forward she came, and his muscles tense, a rumble came from deep within. No respect. The smell of blood on her incited lust, and if not for the smell of his property, the drive of that lust would have drove him forward.

Walking alongside him, his ghost like eyes focused on her, and jaws snapped as his head swung towards her. She walked as no other wolfess he had seen, and confusion filled him. Dominance radiated from him, his body moving as hers did, his gaze never leaving hers.
The roses are wilted,
The violets are dead,
The demons run circles
Round and round in my head.
suspended between survival and civility
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#9

they danced

circling one another in an intimate, deadly game of power and lust and rage.  they were each predatory in their gait, each posessive in thier gaze.  her lips curl up as he snaps at her.  she can feel his confusion but she relishes it, clutching it with a greedy fists and brandishing it close to her breast.

she reaches forth as they pass each other again and grazes her nose along the lenth of his body, arcing over his ribs and in the notches of his abdomen, curling over the massive berth of his hips before she thrusts her head up in the air, defiant, nose to the sky.

the nameless woman's growling whines continued, increasing in pitch and fervor, and her mind wanders once more to another encounter —

... a fevered pitch, warmth of two bodies pressing together bathed in hormones and heat.  a song of blood and war, of desolate and untamed lands ...

— and when she pulls back to reality her gaze returns to that of the man who filled her present instead of her past with an intense and unmatched ferocity.

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#10
His confusion turned into lustful growls as her nose ran the length of him, and his property slipped his mind as he looked on the lone wolfess who was like no other he had come across. A shiver of possessiveness crawled through him as his hungry gaze locked with hers, his eyes filled with icy flames.

Her whines did nothing to dissuade him as they filled his ears, his tail whipping the wind. His chest rumbled as they continued the dance, his ears swiveling towards the wild woman. 

Nostrils flaring, he breathed in her scent as he buried his nose in the fur of her hip. He bared his fangs and nipped at her, curiosity mixed with feral instincts.
The roses are wilted,
The violets are dead,
The demons run circles
Round and round in my head.
suspended between survival and civility
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#11

she felt the heat of his breath against her hips, a stark and welcome contrast from the biting wind that swirled in the scarce space between them.

a purr rumbled in her throat — she was driven by both desire and discomfort, and returned his nip with a careful raise of her lips, dipping her head down to inspect his manhood.

she didn't want this.  she could feel his posessive nature and she despised it; however, part of her wanted to be owned, to be wanted.  because apparently she wasn't enough for xan.

xan.  the thought of him surfaced and caused her steps to pause.  she knew not of the children in her womb (not yet, not yet) but she knew what she had felt for him in the moments they had shared together.

for the second time during their encounter, reigi whined.

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#12
He answered her purr with an inviting one of his own, and even the icy air could not cool the heat he felt boiling inside him. His tail flicked up as he nipped along her ribcage, a shiver of pure lust going down his spine.

Her whine reached his ears, and he swiveled them towards her, chuffing softly. Curling his lips back, his nips became harsher as his mouth spilled a growling whine.

His massive body turned as her scruff called for him. Air became heavy, his breath louder as teeth found her scruff.
The roses are wilted,
The violets are dead,
The demons run circles
Round and round in my head.
suspended between survival and civility
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#13

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she felt warmth, it coursed through her veins and her extremities burned against the frigid winter air.  

in her chest, that awful swelling began again that threatened to break her.  she could feel herself beginning to crack, her stomach churning dangerously.  her legs quivered, but only for a moment.

she did not have time to react before he was on her with his teeth, digging into her fur and flesh.

his he bore into her scruff, pulling the skin from underneath the collar and her jaws parted, her breath hitching in her throat.  desperately, she rocked her hips against him, begging for her desires to be sated and her mind to be filled with something other than hurt, with something other than him!


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#14
With a grow rumbling from his chest, his property slipped from his mind as her hips ground against him. Roughly, he wrapped his legs around her chest. Her racing heart only made his lust stronger, an ache that needed to be filled.

 Holding on tightly, he began to thrust at her rear, every thrust making him yank on her scruff.  His body burned with longing, a flame that was growing inside of him as he felt her heat. He was sure she could feel his pounding heart as he laid down the length of her. A possessive whining growl rose from his muzzle as he yanked, thrusting again.
The roses are wilted,
The violets are dead,
The demons run circles
Round and round in my head.
suspended between survival and civility
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#15

from her parted jaws came low, wanting whines as she felt his forelimbs wrap around the slim hollows of her waist behind her ribs. his posessive vocalizations did little to dissuade her.  though she hated it, the objectification kept her in the present instead of letting her mind wander to her trysts with alexander.

he found purchase at her scruff, jostling that heavy collar every time his pelvis cantered towards her.  her tail moved aside with ease as her trembling legs parted to support his weight, and she could feel his groin swelling with his desire.

finally his powerful thrusts found their way inside her and she cried out in simultaneous pain and pleasure.  she tightened around him, and as his glands began to swell their bodies became locked.

rythmically, she moved against him, and because she was immune to societal pressure or standard, she vocalized loudly and with ease, moaning and gasping and hitching as she pleased.  
 

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#16
With a forceful thrust, a moan of pleasure rose with her cries on the wind. He felt her tighten around him, and warmth exploded through him as he thrust harder.

Heat rose from their bodies as his heart beat matched hers, her vocals driving him on. His teeth sunk into her scruff, and the taste of blood made his eyes roll in the back of his head with pleasure, tearing a bit of flesh with each rough movement. 

With a final thrust, he released with a whining moan, collapsing on her back. His heavy panting threw clouds into the air, but they quickly vanished as he withdrew and slid to the ground.
The roses are wilted,
The violets are dead,
The demons run circles
Round and round in my head.
suspended between survival and civility
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#17

she did not yet know that the fur and skin had parted from her scruff and did not feel the blood that trickled down her neck, marring her collar.  if anything, what little pain she felt only hastened her mounting pleasure.  

she kept her time with him and could tell when he was getting close; she finished, closing tight around his groin as she felt him come close behind.

the moment they had finished she wanted him off.  he collapsed on her, but thankfully she did not have to support his weight for long.  he climbed off, panting, and she would wait for his swelling to reduce enough she could part him from her body, and then she would make to leave without another remark.

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#18
As he slid off heaving, a thought crossed his mind that made him curl his lips back in an aggressive display of his fangs. She would leave, and another male would claim her. His dark soul twisted it into pure possessiveness. His. He took her. Now she was his property.

His swelling went down, releasing their locked bodies, and he shook, his muscles relaxed. Massive paws moved quickly as he turned, and his pale eyes once again bore into her, watching her every move.
The roses are wilted,
The violets are dead,
The demons run circles
Round and round in my head.
suspended between survival and civility
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#19

she was not a mind-reader but she did not like the way his gaze continued to bore into her, even after they were through.  

if only they knew what their future had planned, if only he knew where she had hailed from and the extent of her pack's protection.

she keeps him in her sight for a beat or two, and then turns tail, making a move to leave.

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#20
As he stared into her eyes, a familiar feeling crept into his being, and  the darkness intensified. She was his. He couldn't let her go. The world stopped for a moment as if frozen, then the feral creature turned her back on him.

A snarl rose from his lips as he lunged, catching her in the side. He tasted her blood and sunk in deeper, latching onto anything he could to keep her with him. Hackles raised, he pulled her back, his paws shoving into the now pink snow.
The roses are wilted,
The violets are dead,
The demons run circles
Round and round in my head.
suspended between survival and civility
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#21

it happened in an instant and he was on top of her again, although this time it was not about sating lust it was about a posessive demand — he thought she was his although he would be sorely mistaken.

she was nobody's.  she was her own.

she cried out as he bore into her ribs with his long incisors, working at her flesh in an effort to mark and maim her.  savagely, she wheeled her head around, biting at his optics in a desperate attempt to get him to let go.

and then she would make him submit.

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#22
A roar of pain burst from his maw as her fang caught above his eye, tearing it. Pulling back, his eyes shot flames at her, his pride now showing in his eyes. Snarling, he shook his head and blinked. 

Hot red liquid flowed down into his eye, blinding the now rage induced beast dancing as he tried to get the blood out. Charging forward blindly, he snapped his jaws again.
The roses are wilted,
The violets are dead,
The demons run circles
Round and round in my head.
suspended between survival and civility
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#23

she released a hautghty roar as the brute's grip on her side released.  her blood was singing with pain and pride and post-orgasm rush; the adrenaline and euphoria mixed to create a feeling that she had never experienced before (and unfortunately, would grow to crave).

he made to launch at her once more and she waved her genitals in the air in front of his blindly gaping jaws, twirling tantalizingly out of reach.

was this what those deplorable women had felt when they had teased and fought reigi?

she had every intention of making him submit to her, but he was much larger than her and dangerous in his rage.  for her safety, she needed to stop teasing him, so she turned tail and bolted from the clearing while he was still blinded.

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#24
Her roar only heightened his want for her. Yet as blood rushed down his face, he caught sight of her rear and another wave of possessiveness washed over him, a low rumble emitting from his chest. 

Before he could lunge for her again, she took off, yet the scent filled his lungs, and he committed it to memory, knowing that somehow, he would meet her again.

Watching her leave, he resisted strongly against the urge to follow her, his pale eyes burning with desire now for two. Picking up the bloodied patches of fur, the taste of blood made a low moan come out. She disappeared, and he turned, heading away with his prize.
The roses are wilted,
The violets are dead,
The demons run circles
Round and round in my head.