Wolf RPG

She'd been coupling with Ar-Khalba with a passion, but still her body burned and yearned. Molech blessed those loyal by encouraging them to seek pleasure in each other. Her heat was a way to get more members for the Malkaria, children for Molech. So as she had approached the border of Sun Mote Copse, her entire body itching with desire, she suddenly realized she aimed to cross it. Once this realization hit her, she was at once excited and frightened. She had only ever, in all of her life, partnered with Ar-Khalba. The act of mating was new to her entirely, and the feeling of giving in to the urges of her heat was positively delectable. 

So she had leapt across the borders with a flourish and wound her way through Frogspawn Swamp. She turned and entered the Grouse with no true destination in mind, simply wandering about and seeing who, if anyone, would come to her scent. Even if she were to fall pregnant from some other man and not Ar-Khalba it would only help them in the long run. Dilution of blood was good, it was required. Molech would be pleased with her to see that she was thinking of the pack even in her heat, as well as pleased that she was surrendering wholly to it.

Her tail flicked and a soft sigh escaped her. So far, she was unfound and this game was slowly boring her. Before long she'd return to Ar-Khalba's embrace. There she knew she would find her satisfaction.

Flaris searched for the red mother. He looked for her in his dreams mostly, but sometimes his nose and his eyes hunted for the apparition of her too. It was easier that way, imagining she had been a haunting spirit, rather than feeling lovesick for a woman with no supernatural ability who truly existed. At this time, in a rare spur of spontaneity, the stately fox fled the Sentinels so that he might confirm once and for all that it was mere delusion distracting him. And in the thick of an unfamiliar woodland, he found something he had not at all anticipated.

The alluring scent of a she-wolf's heat touched him, caressing him face and drawing him towards the source. He might've given pause to reason and duty— having technically pledged the ability of his loins (should they find him fit for the task) to Donnelaith— but underlying the magnetizing aroma was something he recognized. The red mother. His chest constricted, and he followed the scent now with a little more urgency.

Ahead loomed a streak of fiery fur, and he hesitated, not believing at first that this was her. Steadily coming closer, chuffing so that he might have her attention, he quickly realized that he was right. Her eyes were inviting tangerines instead of green leaves, and her true scent was much different, only carrying an accent of the red mother, which befuddled him until he was able to rationalize that he was certainly not hallucinating anything, and hadn't been over the passing days. They must know one another, or even be related; it would at least explain their vibrant red coats.

He breathed deeply, at first opening his mouth in charming hesitation, before flourishing neatly: "I apologize, I do, my lady. Your scent, though, it's as if a thousand heavens loom before me, and I could not go on living with myself if I did not at least feast my eyes on the creature wearing such glorious perfume."

Rarely did Ragna turn to the thicket, for she still remembered the ghostly sight of her father and his hoard of vikings. Yet today she had thought to hunt for the grouse who gave it its name, and so she ghosted through the trees, a pale shadow in the dark.

Before she could truly hone in on any quarry, a new scent came to her. Ragna knew what went into the creation of new life, and she knew that Asherah was in heat. That was part of why Ragna had strayed from the copse. The very thought that Asherah and Ar-Khalba here, at any point, coupling beneath the same trees Ragna walked had driven her from the copse in her embarrassment. Yet now the scent came to her, pheromone thick, only dusted with a trace of the scent of the Malkaria. Immediately Ragna knew who it was.

She sought out Asherah immediately, merely out of concern for her pack mate. It seemed dangerous to be so far from home in her state. When at last she came upon her fellow bakaar, though, Ragna found that she was not alone. Immediately she recognized the man, the same one she'd met at the plateau. She did not think him dangerous, but still found his presence offensive, for reasons she could not name. If Asherah wanted to lie with him, Ragna didn't see any reason for her not to. Yet still she felt the desire to chase him off. Asherah, she said as she materialized from the underbrush. Sister, you should not be so far from home. It's dangerous. Ragna finished this statement with a pointed glance at Flaris.

Winding her way through the thicket, she listened for the approach or even the sound of others. She longed to touch and be touched, to speak and meet with others. The sound of paws in this thick wood was quiet, but noticeable. As she was, she felt that her senses had been heightened. She imagined that she could feel the tremble of the earth beneath the paws of the other, and with measured slowness whirled to face the sound. As they grew closer a grin spread across her lips, pleased to find a male before her. 

He breathed deeply of her scent and she hid the pleased hum that rose suddenly in her throat. He apologized to her, a gentleman true, clearly not a wolf who knew of Molech. She chuckled warmly, invitingly, tail swaying in a few gentle waves that only served to further push her scent around. "You need not apologize, kind sir. My God has crafted me beautiful for eyes to enjoy me, has made my scent enticing...perhaps for the very same reason. If it is the will of one much more than any mortal, how could I protest? You flatter me with your words." They were sweet in her ear, dripping like honey. She took a few steps towards him, still smiling a sweet grin. "Please, do it again." 

It was then that Ragna appeared from the bush, as if materializing out of the air. Her name pulled her eyes from his face, like jerking unwilling flesh from bone. "Ragna?" She was surprised and her path forward stopped suddenly, but her voice did not show displeasure at her packmate's arrival. "I have wandered a ways, I admit. I aim to return, of course, always." She knew of course Ragna was not worried about her not returning home, but the scent of her heat out in the Wilds. She had faith in Molech to protect her though, and though she wouldn't say it here and now, she wanted to reassure Ragna that any pairing could  not be considered forceful if she herself was willing.

Without truly thinking about what she was doing her steps now turned toward Ragna, her body unconsciously driving her forward to physically connect. She reached the white kurgarru and while in her right mind she'd likely have considered it impolite to be so affectionate to her new packmate, today her mind was decidedly left. She pressed her face forward and aimed to rub it against Ragna's own, afterwards turning so that she stood beside the other. 

Her words were warm with devotion and trust, as reassuring smile offered to her packmate. "Molech watches over us all, Ragna. I feel no danger with the Many Armed God on my side. And I have only just made a new friend, who I am sure would not allow anything to befall me, charming as he sounds." She turned to smile coyly at the male raising her brows as if to question him on the matter. "I would introduce you, but I fear he hasn't told me his name yet. I am Asherah, as you heard, and this is Ragna. Both of us of the Malkaria. And by what name shall I call the man of such sweet words?" 

She was red all over, warm-looking and sultry; fire incarnate. He could burn in her eyes for eternity and not feel charred by the intensity of her gaze. But it was the air certainly— making him feel so emblazoned and pious— drawing him into her willing embrace. Flaris took an unconscious step forward, opening his mouth so that he might implore her to ignite him further, but a stiffened figure formed out of thin air, and he recognized the pallid fisher with his eyes swelled by want.

He watched, silent and anticipating as the she-wolves interacted familiarly with one another. The one called Asherah pressed needfully into the side of her companion, Ragna, and Flaris watched them without feeling superimposed. He felt bid to touch, to broaden their individual passions by involving his own, but he was a wolf of great self-control, and more than that, he was a wolf of great dignity; he hung back appropriately, and remained quiet until he had been addressed.

"Flaris, my dear," he bowed, tail wagging. He picked up his head, and looked to the wolf he had met before. "Ragna, we meet again." He licked his chops, and closed his eyes as a clement smile spread like a brushstroke across the canvas of his face. "I was just telling Asherah how her exquisite scent does not compare to the splendor that it is to actually look upon her," he crooned— a wolf without a shortage of intimate words.

The heady scent of Asherah's heat was deep, and Ragna feared falling headlong into it, because surely she would drown. Yet before she could center herself, Asherah drew near. Their foreheads pressed together, and Ragna looked into Asherah's eyes and saw only truth and want. The fire of her passion flickered dangerously, and suddenly Ragna plunged into the depth of it. The first breath she took after they parted shuddered with want, and had she less control over her body, she might have followed the contact as though she was tethered to her pack mate.

Yet Asherah merely moved to Ragna's side. The brush of fur on fur was electric. The shieldmaiden moved closer, drawn not by intention but by her body's own accord. Despite Asherah's assurances, Ragna felt fiercely protective of her. Flaris' velvet words seemed cloyingly sweet and glaringly false. He was all smoothness and incredibly suave. Ragna hooked her neck over Asherah's, resting her head heavily on the woman's shoulder. This she did with an incredibly smug glance in Flaris' direction. The two women shared something, they already had established intimacy. He was merely an invader in a tender moment.

We have met, Ragna said simply, slightly annoyed. Why was he still here? I don't know what you mean, she smells as she always has, she lied. It would take a fool to miss the scent, the air around them was redolent with pheromones. But she wanted him gone. She wanted Asherah to herself, though to what purpose even Ragna could not say.

Though she moved towards Ragna and pressed herself into her packmate, the male's hungry eyes never left her. She could feel his gaze on her skin, could practically smell the want she'd inspired within him. Her eyes, heavy-lidded with desire, watched as he bowed. She was pleased with the flourish, with the show, and smiled slowly in approval. He addressed Ragna familiarly, and Asherah glanced between the two with surprise. He proceeded to compliment her perfume, her scent, and then her appearance. Her lips lifted into a pleased smirk, and she dipped her head to the brute. "You've met already!" She said with delight, her gaze turning to Ragna once more. "You should have told me that you were friends with such handsome wolves, Ragna." 

Longing for touch, for connection as she was, Asherah did not have the mind to wonder over Ragna's own proximity, or the way she seemed to welcome Asherah's touch. It did not occur to her that her scent would have an effect on Ragna as well, though it likely should have. However false the male's words seemed, Asherah did not mind. She was merely playing the game, enjoying the compliments given her. And then, suddenly but not unwelcomed, Ragna had draped her neck across Asherah's shoulders. The red female was again, surprised, but also pleased. She could not rightly look at Ragna now, covering her as she was, but she emitted a happy little grumble within her chest, leaning towards Ragna's body.

Ragna clearly didn't seem as pleased by the male's presence, nor did she seem overly enthusiastic about their prior meeting. Asherah couldn't fathom why, but despite the fire that burned through her body she recognized that Ragna was staking some sort of pointed claim over her to the male, or at least some sort of display of dominance. There wasn't any fear in the white wolf's body, nor did there seem any true malice. And so Asherah thought the male must be safe and then, with sudden wicked excitement, wondered how the male would compete, how he would vie for her attentions, for her affections over Ragna. 

Ragna denied that Asherah had any kind of change to her scent, which made her chuckle. "I didn't realize I was so drawing normally." She purred, playfully supporting Ragna's lie. Was Ragna merely playing too? She knew the white wolf had no interest in mating males herself, so this wasn't a game to draw him to both of them. Yet the pressure of Ragna on her shoulders was pleasing, comforting, though it brought images of a pressure much different. The intimacy was drawing and Asherah, hungry as she was for all things intimate, would not be the one to pull away. No, if Flaris wanted her out from under Ragna, he'd have to do something himself. And if Ragna desired her to stay, well she'd have to keep her there.

Quite literally fanning the flames, Asherah let her tail wave behind her, sending her scent into the air. Molech surely was happy with her, to send two wolves to vie for her attentions. "You have a pleasant name, Flaris. The weight of it on my tongue is enticing." She spoke the name a few more times then tilt her head slightly. "Do you agree, Ragna? Doesn't it seem to fall from the mouth so smoothly, much like his own words?" Her mind had not moved so far as to imagine what would happen if one or the other left, though the absence would surely disappoint her.

Flaris smiled at Ragna almost ruefully. She was either ignorant, lying, or trying to pay her companion compliment, none of which he truly blamed her for. Still, it was her from which the intoxicating aroma seeped, but the radiating Asherah. He may seem to be bearing false words to gain what he wanted, but nothing that came from his gilded mouth was beyond his normal desire to flatter. Needless to say, the timing of this particular situation was slightly vexing to his overall image.

Driven by hormones, he wasn't inclined to be deterred by watching one female grow slightly possessive over the other. It was unnecessary, he thought, because he assumed that Ragna could not properly appease to the fiery goddess, waking now from a deep sleep inside Asherah's body. She simply didn't have the proper equipment for the task. And in his promiscuity— as well as in naivety towards Ragna's true nature— he thought he could please them both, if allowed to press the task. "Say my name as much as you'd like, my dear. I could even promise to make you say it in a tone you'll find quite lovely, if I don't say so myself..." he purred, slinking forward now, bravely wanting, though cautious of the woman's defender. "I would very much like to know you, in all ways, Asherah. As our creator intended," the gentle panther hissed; hunted.

He certainly wasn't interested in fighting Ragna, so Asherah would need to leash an impending attack, should Flaris' approach became severely unwelcome; but he clearly was willing to take her. Even chase her, if she wanted.

True, she did not think Flaris dangerous. Indeed she could not willingly understand why she felt so fiercely protective over Asherah's virtue (though she knew her to have lain with Ar-Khalba, that was a different beast, and so less tangible than when the scent of need was thick in Ragna's nose.) She was naturally protective of those she had chosen, but she could not admit that Flaris was a danger. Annoying, perhaps, with his silver tongue and loose inhibitions. But not dangerous. So why still did she feel she had to be a total cockblock. Friend, she muttered, then conceded, we have met.

Ragna was not blind to Asherah's enjoyment, though she chose to ignore it for the more pressing matter at hand. This was a competition, one that she was losing simply by virtue of anatomy and charm. Flaris was more charming than she, he wielded words as expertly as she wielded her own claws. And in the end only he could provide the pleasure Asherah sought, sting though that thought might. Yet Ragna would not lose so easily.

She turned then to Asherah, a desperate thought catching quickly, the words tumbling from her hungry mouth before she could think through them. Do you not recall? she asked, her voice ice, lovely to look upon but cold and sharp to touch. I am kurrgaru. My touch is sacred, a favor from Molech, to lie with me-- she paused, stumbled over her words. To lie with her, is that truly what she wanted? Never before had she desired nor paid much mind to matters of the flesh. This was lust she felt, just as carnal as her vice of wrath yet far more unfamiliar. It didn't settle well, like lukewarm water it made her skin feel off.

Ragna shook her head, slipping away with a meekness not befitting her absolutely ripped bode. Desire still flooded her, but the throbbing want was quickly giving way to insecurity, which gave way to anger. Do as you wish, she finally snapped. But do not think you'll see him again, not once you have given him all he seeks. Truly she made assumptions about Flaris' habits and Asherah's desires, but in Ragna's mind it seemed only right that he was only interested in that which he could bed. And Asherah? What woman would want to be used so? None, in Ragna's understanding.

She cast a single fiery glance to them both, then fled, desire and anger burning out, replaced by the ashes of regret and insecurity.

Ragna greet the male with a stiffness that both amused and confused Asherah. She wasn't quite sure what her sister was doing, why she was playing this game with her. She was content to move the pieces as the white woman did, but did not understand when or how the winning move could be made.

Flaris continued to charm and flatter, jesting with her in such a way as to entice a lusty smirk. She was sure he could get her to say his name, and she would happily cry it for the world to hear. The male moved closer and she yearned to close the distance, to wrap her body around him and feel his fur against her own. He spoke of the creator and while she doubt that he truly knew of Molech, it only enticed her further. This is what Molech had intended, truly. Molech had given her this scent, this desire, had drawn this male here. Yet still, Molech too had drawn Ragna here. When the white wolf spoke, Asherah was surprised by her words. She had not expected her to want to partner, although she had little expirence with Kurrgaru. 

The sharp voice did not do anything to douse Asherah's desires, and as she looked at Ragna, her sister, and heard the white wolf's words she was deeply intrigued. As Ragna spoke of lying with her, Asherah's brow rose but a smile split her face. What would it be like to lie with a Kurrgaru? Surely she could not be mounted as she would be a male...but was not Ragna touched by Molech? Was she not elevated above males? Female...and yet not. Ar-Khalba had shown her ways that pleasure could be had without mounting. It could be much the same with Ragna, could it not? And would not loving and pleasuring her sister be somehow...more than if she were with a male? Though Asherah had turned her attention fully to the woman, the white wolf faltered.

Asherah's head tilt at the sudden change, and though her smile remained in place her eyes became concerned. "Ragna, Kurrgaru," She cooed, her smoky voice earnest and pleading. The snap caught Asherah off gaurd and made her frown. She started to step towards the retreating woman but Ragna lashed out a final time and then turned and fled fully.

Asherah frowned at Ragna's retreating back. She wasn't sure how Flaris was using her, when it was she who would be using him for her own desires. Her heat was making her mad with want, and he could solve that. Should she prove fertile he could also offer the pack children. Either way, whether she saw him never again or he joined the pack...she would have gotten what she desired. She was sure that Ar-Khalba had been successful in impregnating her before, at the onset of her heat. They had mate many times that day, and the day after. She believed that he would father her children...and yet still her desire ate at her.

She stared at the place where Ragna had last been seen and sighed. She wasn't sure what to do. She still did not yet take off after Ragna, for once she was thinking over her desire, though how long this would last could not be said.