Wolf RPG

When she thought the need for him and reached a peak, her body surprised her. Desire hit her at all sorts of odd and inconvenient moments, and each time she tried to squirrel her betrothed away to do the deed behind some bush or rock before she imploded. It had been a difficult thing to accomplish during the journey, and she prayed to the stars that this first heat was nearing its end. As much as the pair had refined their methods, she was having to eat like a horse to maintain weight.

That first night was no different. As soon as their extended family was asleep, Bazi tantalized Scimitar into following her away from the pack and up the side of the mountain. She had discovered an easily reachable shelf of rock halfway up, and this was where she coaxed her poor, exhausted lover into doing his sacred duty. Hours later and well into the night, they finally collapsed - Scimitar flat on his side and Bazi nestled between his legs, facing in the opposite direction.

"Do you think we've made puppies?" Bazi mumbled weakly and with closed eyes, smiling into his crotch.

They had made it -- the thought was not only reassuring to the large male, but somewhat surreal, given Paarthurnax was suddenly back from the supposed dead. It awed him to no end -- he would steal glances to the fiery she-wolf as if disbelieving it to be true, though he would not allow his gaze to linger too long, lest Bazi take it the wrong way.

With their mother home, Scimitar and Bazi had been placed to the back burner in a sense for the boys. It was to be expected, but it did sting -- though it also freed up quite a bit of time for the two young lovers.

His insatiable mate lay cradled in his embrace then, albeit haphazardly after another session. She was ravenous at times, and at her question, Scimitar felt himself smile, though with his cheek pressed in to the ground from exhaustion of their new home, he did not know if she could see it. "I have no doubt," he murmured then, hoping his words to be true. Bazi had wanted nothing more than to be a mother for as long as he had known her.

Now, nestled on Nova peak, this was their chance to raise a family away from the dangers that had seem magnetized to the Creek.

"I have no doubt," he murmured, eliciting a giggle from the insatiable girl he had chosen for his own. Bazi worked her face out from under his leg and nestled her chin on his soft belly instead, one blue eye roving between Scimitar's shoulder-blade and the ragged edge of his ear. His had not raised his head, and she allowed herself a giddy grin at their impossible good fortune.

"What should we call them?" Bazi mused, planning ahead without even considering that her diminishing heat might not bear fruit. They had done it least 12,000 times, and Scimitar had most certainly brought the goods on at least 11,999 occasions.

The question wasn't one he had truly considered -- how did one decide on what to name another? It seemed a greater responsibility than even looking after them, and Scimitar found himself swept in to silence as he pondered this question.
 
"What did you want to call them?" It was a terrible deflection from his own uncertainty, and the cinnamon wolf propped himself up slightly, his eyes sweeping over her tired form as he looked for her reaction. Perhaps their cultures were very different in the manner of names -- his own mother had stuck fiercely to naming her children after an item she called a 'sword.' He had never taken such interest in the matter before.
 
"Swift, for our beginning roots," he mused, once more resting his muzzle to the ground.

Bazi could only offer a shrug. Her own mother had scoffed at the idea of naming her children according to a set of rules, and picked whatever names took her fancy. Bazi, Mari, Zimbri, Zambiya.. they were either syllables that seemed to fit, or bastardizations of words she had heard on the road.

Whilst Bazi was mostly in agreement with her mother on that front, she had no desire to sit and make noises until a name emerged. Scimitar's idea to root their names in something meaningful and personal received an enthusiastic bob of the young soon-to-be mother's head. "Whittier," she decided, turning her own head to stare dreamily into the trees. "I can't remember where I heard it." Ea, maybe? Bazi scrunched up her face. Perhaps it was better to stay away from naming her children after her own family. "I like Pasha, too. He was a ranger that hung around when I was little." And had a mad crush on, but Scimitar didn't need to know that.

Bazi rung off a few more names -- none that Scimitar held any argument against. Instead, he released his approval with a low, crooning growl, shifting his weight so his muzzle could extend further to brush gently against the top of her head. "I hope they all look like you," he quietly determined then, sweeping his eyes away from his mate and to the surrounding lands. Nova Peak had proven to be quiet -- and Scimitar found the change easy enough to adjust to. He could already envision their puppies playing on the gentle slopes of their mountain.. the filtered light of the sun dancing upon their bright ivory fur they would inherit from their mother as they romped through the northwoods.

This was what the family had needed.

Bazi giggled again - she was in that sort of mood. "All of them? Then how will anyone know they're yours? I'll be accused of all sorts of things," she joked, burying the tip of his nose in the downy fur where his leg met the rest of his body. Parts of his coat were as white as hers, and she wondered if there was an Arctic wolf somewhere in his family tree. Hers were from the same Northern stock for as long as lore remembered. "What if there's more than three? Have you got any more names?"

Bazi’s giggled statement was not lost on him, and he cast her an amused glance. Of course, the thought had never occurred to him.. but then again, he had never known all the facts of her brief interlude with Crescendo. Instead, he would only quietly ponder the idea, and determine that any who dare question the loyalty of his mate would certainly regret voicing such thoughts.
 
She wanted more names – and she was not wrong. He was growing more nervous at the prospect of becoming a father. He had played the role to Paarthurnax’s children, certainly.. but somehow, without the title having to be earned, rather than expected, it was that much more terrifying. “Allure.. Cypress.. Bronx.. Poet..” The list of names fell from his tongue as he mused quietly, and he gave a mild shrug of his shoulders. “There are a lot of names that run in our family,” he explained briefly.

The memory of her charged (and in the end, benign) interaction with Crescendo rarely visited Bazi's conscious mind any more - mostly because she was ashamed of it, and an expert at putting things out of her mind that did not fit the image of a perfect life. The only incident that really ate at her now was Danica's banishment. The rest - Shadow, Fox, the Sunspire - had faded with time. Bazi would make an absolutely terrible keeper of pack lore.

"Allure," she repeated in a dreamy voice, accentuating the 'r'. "That's a lovely name.. mother? Older sibling?"

Scimitar rarely spoke of his family – not because he did not want to, but because the lore of his surname was more lost upon the inhabitants of Teekon Wilds. At his birth pack, the name DeMonte had been a formidable surname, and Frostfur had become just as pronounced with the reign of his grandfather. “Grandmother,” he offered, thinking back upon the stories of her. “I did not know her – but my mother revered her and my grandfather both. Allure came from the family DeMonte – which isn’t heard of much here.” He fell silent for a moment, thinking back to the tales he had heard. He had many aunts and uncles – though only a few he had been somewhat familiar with. Their lines were large.. and he briefly wondered if the Frostfur name would become a dominant surname in their new home.

Bazi offered a little shrug to indicate that she was part of the crowd that had managed to escape any knowledge of the DeMontes - but she was from the North, where the cold families reigned, and even their surnames escaped her now. 

Bazi tilted her head to look in Scimitar's direction again, one ear pressed against his belly. Every now and then, she heard it gurgle. "Well, I think it's a lovely name. Why aren't you 'DeMonte-Frostfur'? And..what was your mother's name? I don't think I've ever asked you."

“My grandparents were traditional and wanted the Frostfur name carried on,” he offered, his eyes drifting lazily over his mate. Shifting his weight so he could push his nose closer to her nape, Scimitar released a soft sigh, loathing the idea of having to get up and continue onward with the day, when paradise was sitting right beside him. “Rapier Frostfur,” he concluded, allowing his thoughts to shift back to the swarthy woman who had raised him. She had been a fierce warrior – and he wondered for a stolen moment what she would think of his life and where it had taken him.
 
“You don’t talk much about your family or where you came from,” he spoke gently, shifting the subject from him to her. Bazi, despite being closer to her now more than ever, remained a shrouded mystery to him.

Rapier. It sounded rough and angry - no doubt a name she had lived up to, judging by the size and ferocity of her children. As Scimitar wondered what his mother would think of his choices, so too did Bazi wonder what Rapier would think of her son's choice in mate. Only good things, she thought haughtily to herself. There was nothing wrong with Bazi Frostfur.


Bazi gave her mate a bit of side-eye when he turned the tables on her. She wasn't a fan of discussing her own family lest the truth about its demise came out. 'Fire' had been the go-to lie to explain its dissolution, but there was never any detail. She did not trust herself to lie consistently, so avoided the topic altogether. "My mother's name is Shar-Kali," she shared. "I had two siblings in my litter. Mari - he's a boy, actually - and Shar-Kali II." A little grin crinkled Bazi's maw. "How about a Scimitar II? Or.. an Allure II?" The girl's face brightened. Her short-lived sister had already paid tribute to Shar-Kali in name - why not Allure now?

"Allure II," he rumbled in agreement, giving a small nod in turn. Stretching leisurely, the male cast a loving gaze upon his mate. It was his first rodeo for a litter of puppies -- at least, one he was so directly involved in, and the thought of pre-naming them all made him almost nervous.. What if something happened?

Still, it seemed so soothe his surely pregnant mate, and never before had he seen a female want something more than Bazi had wanted t be a mother. "Did you want to name one after your siblings?" Mari, after all, was a name that could be an option for them. The day would come soon enough, and he was sure she wanted to be fully prepared for their birth.

Allure II it was. Bazi wondered if her imagined little girl would also come to be known simply as "Two", or if something more imaginative would stick. Scimitar's question was met with a firm shake of Bazi's head - naming her children after the young and deceased seemed like an open invitation for bad luck.

"Let's start with these and see what happens, " she decreed, nestling her face back into Scimitar's fur. Before long, sleep took her, bringing vivid dreams of their future family.

Bazi -- as if holding an innate sense f how many puppies they would have, seemed content to settle on their current names, and as she murmured a closure to the conversation, Scimitar went along with her wishes.. after all, he would be far more than content if they managed four puppies -- but somehow, the darkness that had plagued them during their days at Swiftcurrent Creek picked at him.. and he wondered if they would be lucky to even have one.

Laying his own muzzle back down, feeling the rise and fall of Bazi's hushed breathing as she slept against him, the cinnamon male forced his own eyes shut, hoping sleep would overtake him.. but it would be a restless one, and his dreams would be haunted by disappointment.