Wolf RPG

He slept fitfully with his nose tucked under his tail against the deep freeze of winter dusk. His dreams were filled with vague contours, silhouettes of men and women that lysed like ink in water upon a closer look. His wife, Isotta, smiled at him in the half-dark, her teeth glittering like nacre.

Basta, he muttered, and realized he had just woken up.

By the time the sun had risen enough to fully show itself above the horizon, Pier had started off at a slow clip along a creek, that had in some places, glazed over with ice. Despite his best efforts, he had gotten one of his feet wet. From time to time he paused to shake it gingerly, waiting for sensation to return to the paw pads.

The small, fox-like woman hasn’t strayed far from the southwestern part of the Teekons. She does bound towards the creek in the early hours of the day. Though usually she’d be sleeping at this time, she got a fair amount of sleep last night and is feeling spry. 

So her paws would carry her along until she’s seeing a figure close in the distance — a wolf! Her eyes zero in on them and a smile curls her lips skyward. Oh finally, some entertainment. She’s been so bored wandering around on her own. 

When she gets closer, the scent reveals them to be a male. Even better. She does love toying with men. 

So she’d begin sauntering over to him. Her approach would be obvious, her plush tail swishing low at her hocks. When she is a comfortable distance away, she’d stop and her voice — which is as smooth as honey — would ring out between them.

“And just who might you be?” She asks with a smile and a curious tilt of her pretty face. Her large coyote like ears cup towards him, easily soaking up whatever he may say back to her. Her bloody eyes hold a promiscuous curiosity in them as she sidles slowly closer to him.

A woman approached him. She was small and startlingly pale, her eyes narrowed into twin crescents above a suggestive smile.

Pier, he offered, though his gaze was careful and withdrawn. He brought his paw closer to himself. And who might you be?

He was not stupid and he wasn't afraid to flatter himself; he could guess at her intention, her ulterior motives. If he hadn't dreamt of Isotta then perhaps he would be more open to this nameless woman's advances. He stole another glance at her. He had never seen anyone like her in his life.

His eyelids shuttered half-shut. He seemed to be in deep thought, engaging in a reflexive and obscure dialogue.

The man watches her with care — suspicion even. That’s okay, Pandora would hardly trust a woman like herself either, but she digresses. She likes to play with men — it’s her favorite past time. Plus, there’s no denying she’s beautiful, she knows she is. Of course, she may not be some wolves cup of tea, but everyone has their type. 

Still, she would at least get a name out of the cautious man — Pier, he says. She likes it. It sound foreign to her, but then again a lot of things and wolves here in the Teekon sound foreign to Pandora. 

It’s then he asks for her own name and she breathes out a soft laugh as she moves closer to him. She would attempt in circling around him, if he allowed her such freedom. Her soft paws step casually, she seems like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

“This one’s called Pandora.” She answers softly from behind him.

Only she comes up near his right shoulder and would also attempt to brush her long, full tail under his chin when she passes by him. Looking over her shoulder with a teasing swirl to her eyes. Eventually she’d turn to meet him head on and tilt her head once more.

“Pier,” She calls, experimenting his name on her tongue. “and you just wander? No home yet?” Comes her softly questioning tone.

Like a comet caught in the pull of another planet, she circled him, slow and elliptical. He froze as she brought her tail up under his chin. The fine fur tickled his throat; he swallowed and turned his head away.

She said his name and it left her mouth as if there was real texture to it, a tangible and weighted thing with all the properties of matter.

I had a home, he managed. But there's no shame in being a lone wolf, every once in a while.

He started to turn and face her but she was already there, each step sensual and soundless. You smell like a pack.

The furrow between his brows deepened. He told himself that he could leave any time he wanted. He told himself he had no reason to leave, not just yet.

He reacted well to her little tail trick and by well she means that he didn’t try to eat her, so that’s a plus. Therefore, it’s a win. She’ll take it. He does seem like a solemn, brooding fellow, perhaps he needs some cheering up. She could do that, but by all means, Pandora is a wretched therapist.

Still, he’s willing to speak with her and that’s good enough. He mentions that he had a home. Had. That’s never good. She wonders what happened. The stories are never fun like hers. Really, her story isn’t the definition of fun either, she just doesn’t let it bother her. She’s been traveling the world (or she was) so she understands his statement about being a loner every so often though. It’s fun when one has no agenda or plan — just rolling with the punches.

So she cups her large ears towards him as she listens and hums out an interested sound. Only he mentions that she smells like a pack wolf — that’s new for her. For she just recently joined the cultist bear pack just south of here.

At that she’s laughing smoothly and rolls her eyes comically. “Yeah, this one just joined a pack recently. Though, usually I’m on my own as well. Comes with being banished ya know.” She states casually with a cheeky smile. 

She does see his pensive expression though and her brows turn up with curiosity. She tip toes towards him once more, rubbing herself along his shoulder casually and draping her tail over his back. Tilting her head up to him with an easygoing inquiry on her tongue and in her eyes.

“Why the long face? What’s bouncing around in that broody head of yours, friend?” She asks, but with a smirk to lighten his mood.

Banished? He wasn't surprised. As far as he knew, there was no cure for nymphomania. The detached way she spoke of her pack only reminded him of himself, and he hated it.

And what? he asked, his voice taking on a sardonic edge. No newfound sense of brotherhood? No new purpose in life?

He felt ashamed, as if caught red-handed in something venal and subversive. He wanted to say my face isn't long, but her question was so absurd that he was certain he had misunderstood her.

Instead, he demanded - What are you looking for? - even as he shivered against her shoulder. Again, he stepped away, though this time it was because he was unsure of how he would react if she were to touch him again. His instinct was to lean into the warmth, to chase away the bone-deep chill that had settled inside of him. It made no sense to feel shame over such a natural thing.

Though little did he know, nymphomania is not what got her banished (surprisingly) it was the fact that her mother, a coyote, had tangled with a wolf. Despite it not being her fault necessarily, she’s still punished for her mother’s apparent wrong doing.

Either way, the man speaks and Pandora eagerly listens. His tone is borderline mocking, but in a dark sort of way and she decides that she like the grimness of this man’s personality. She can’t help but scoff though at the things he might expect her to have when joining a pack — a newfound sense of brotherhood or a purpose to life. No, she hasn’t found any of those yet within her new home, but perhaps in the future she might. 

She would laugh at his tease, a hearty, smooth sound coming from an open mouthed maw. She finds him funny. Although he seems to get a bit more serious when she’s asking him what’s wrong, but she definitely doesn’t miss the way he reacts when she rubs herself along him and for that she smiles devilishly.

“Don’t know, big guy, what am i looking for?” She asks, not chasing him as he steps away, but rather slinking off in front of him with a high sway of a plush tail. “What do you want me to be looking for?” She asks cryptically, wine red orbs looking him directly in the eyes with mischief in them.

Very quickly he realized that his questions would never recieve a true answer. As if by legerdemain, she neatly directed all of his hollow-point demands back to him. Her gaze dared him to take action, but he suspected that by taking action he would merely be ceding another chess piece to her.

I can't do riddles. But we can talk, he said, as if assuring himself. We can talk about anything. Whether you believe in a higher power. Your favorite food. Suddenly aware of his rambling, he forced his mouth shut.

His front paw felt numb; without looking at it, he could feel the ice that had crusted over the fur. He grimaced, but did not move; the idea of having her out of his sight intimidated him.

He’s not wrong, she deflects questions on the daily, he will not be the last. Most of the time it’s easy and meant as a distraction to weasel her way through people’s defenses. But this guy? No, she is merely having a normal conversation, she’s merely playing. She saves the trickery for a potential victim to try her poisons out on. He is thankfully not one — she finds him entertaining.

So when he speaks once more he goes on and on about potential topics of conversation. Stopping himself abruptly towards the end and it has her genuinely smiling, even has her barking out an easy going laugh — one as smooth as silk.

“Alright, I understand.” She huffs with fresh remnants of laughter. “You want to get to know me a little better, huh?” She purrs, even offering him a humorous wink.

She even moves in front of him and lowers herself into a sit, curling her plush tail around her ankles comfortably. “Well~” She starts. “I do somewhat believe in a higher power and may favorite food is elk.” 

After answering his first random questions, she tilts her head at him, cupping large ears in his direction. “And you? What is your favorite food? And where do you plan on going? Will you wander forever?” She’s much more curious as to where he plans on going after this too, he’s a riot to tease.

He hadn't expected her to volley his mindless questions back at him. Despite himself, he grinned.

Duck. Duck after a day or two of an empty stomach.

Briefly his mind flashed back to Skua, the seaside man and his elliptic smile.

I'll be near the ocean. Around the mountain range, through a river, there is a beach. A few days' worth of travel, to and back.

If only he had half the charm she did; he might've offered her a wink in return. He was terrible at winking and all his prior attempts resembled a tonic-clonic seizure, so he kept his face still.

Will I find you there? He remembered how Skua had teased him in much the same way - Were you hoping to see me again?

At her own answers the handsome man actually smiles and that’s the most emotion she’s seen yet, so she meets his with one of her own as he speaks. 

He likes duck and Pandora has to agree. She also loves duck. Perhaps they could go duck hunting sometime. The thought is entertaining and she has been lacking any male company for sometime now. Well, no male company she can convince with lay with her that is. 

He continues though, speaking of the coast she has not yet been to. She tilts her head at this. Oh, so he going north? How sad is that, for her place is now with the bear-wolves of the southern valley. He does ask her if he’ll see her there and sadly she shakes her head at that.

“First of all, I love duck and wouldn’t be opposed to a hunt sometime.” She purrs with her confident smile. “But no, I havnt been to the coast, I would like to lounge on the beach though.” How romantic would that be? Very. The thought is tantalizing. Yet she continues on. “Sadly my place is south of here. I’m bound to that pack and surely they eat me for dinner if I up and left haha.” 

She says it with one of her smooth laughs, but she does wonder how Ursus deals with runaways. Surely not in a good way. They seem the type to hunt down whoever leaves and chews them up. She definitely doesn’t want to be chewed on by them, especially the extraordinary Merrick.

If he'd known that she found him handsome, he would be very pleased. Flashback to a conversation with one of his colleagues, where he says through a flat and bitter smile -

"Credimi Quadri," he protests. "Non ho mai colpito nessuno."

Quadri laughs, looking like he has the world in his hands. "Ma ho pensato che fossi un casanova?"

He blinked, once, twice, to rid himself of the memory. Che peccato. Maybe our paths will cross again one day, though he said this as more of a courtesy than anything, but the duck hunt is on, signorina.

If I never meet you again, then I'll know who to blame! He was laughing now - good job Pier - still uneasy but feeling buoyed by her attention, her coyness. He did have a type.

He seems far away for just a moment, but Pandora dares not interrupt his thoughts. Rather, she just stares shamelessly at him, taking in his features until he speaks once more. 

When he does, it’s in a language she doesn’t know, but the accent really gets her going. Ooh, she loves it actually. It’s obvious by the way her smirk deepens and her ears perk, her head tilting slightly as she regards him and his foreign words. 

Maybe our paths will cross again one day. He says then and immediately follows it with the aforementioned duck hunt. 

She laughs easily. “Hopefully so.” She hums to his first statement. “Is that an invitation? If so, I accept.” She says with a quirky tilts of her face and a cheeky smile.

Only he laughs then when she mentions Ursus eating her alive and she can’t help but laugh as well no matter how dark the reality of that type of situation might be. “Yes, you most definitely will know who to blame.” She chuckles then.

Only after, she gets up and stalks towards him once more. That ever present, confident smirk on her maw beaming up to him. She brushes along his shoulder and chest once more, craning her head up to him as she does so. As well as arching her tail around his nape like a fluffy scarf. 

“So is this duck hunt a right now thing? Or a later thing, big guy?” She wonders flirtatiously.

Her tail! Lush like a feather boa found on a winter's day of window shopping. He watched, and then felt it around his neck. A lightning-bolt memory of Isotta's dark eyes, like twin beads of balsamic. A beautiful woman asks you to hunt with her. A terrific woman. What do you do?

The hunt could be now, if you would help me melt the rest of this ice off of my leg.

He held his front paw out, stiff and self-conscious, the fur spiked over with frost.

Soon, all the ducks in the world will be at our mercy, ah?

The hunt could be now, if you would help me melt the rest of this ice off of my leg. He says, sticking his paw out to her. 

She looks down at it and hums curiously as he mentions humorously that all the ducks of the world will soon be at their mercy. She laughs at that, a soft giggling sound as she inspects his foot. Only she looks back up to him devilishly.

“Have to tried licking it or curling around it? The heat would probably help.” She hums with a smile. “Perhaps you’d have me do it for you, oh great one?” She chuckles.