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+--- Thread: Ankyra Sound This is it, the apocalypse. (/showthread.php?tid=26281)
This is it, the apocalypse. - Nyx - March 18, 2018
Hey you Lycaon! <3
With the season's shift, Nyx was reminded of her purpose in the Teekon. She had promised herself that when Spring approached and the ice began to thaw, she would resume her search for Dirge and Saor. While the snow still fell in flurries and the sea breeze was still biting, the longer days were a sign that her time to move on was fast approaching. A part of her was loathe to consider taking her leave of the coast where she'd made her Winter home with Grimnismal, and the thought of farewell to Lycaon and Ingram pained her in ways she wouldn't dare admit, but her siblings had always been her priority.
But for entirely selfish reasons, Nyx' priority lay elsewhere.
She prowled the beach in the night, yellow eyes sharp and nose to the ground as she searched for any sign that either of her favoured pack-mates might have passed by. The rational part of her mind urged her to go into hiding to wait out her raging hormones, but her mother's lesson on the birds and the bees wasn't one that held Nyx' attention. Lucky enough to have missed out on a heat cycle the previous year, the agouti Ostrega was entirely unaware of thesigns and she simply gave in to the instinct that drove her to seek out male attention.
When she caught the scent of Lycaon on the breeze, Nyx' nostrils flared. She paused in her tracks to lift her proud head and study her surroundings, peering through the blackness of the night in search of the Beta's pallid hide. She settled her electric eyes on the slick, moonlit stone of their beloved Grotto further down the strand and, without hesitation, made toward its entrance with the hope that her ashen comrade might be found within.
RE: This is it, the apocalypse. - Lycaon - March 18, 2018
Lycaon’s present stance with most of the females in Grimsnimal couldn't have been better summed up than by the phrase“walking on eggshells”—all at once, they seemed to have pulled the clutch on crazy and daresay recently found his particular presence simply intolerable. he was frugal with his expenditures of time with them, altogether not finding that their company was worth the slew of harsh reprimands when he inevitably trespassed on their boundaries that flowed and changed like quicksilver.
it was to nobody’s surprise, then, that his self-esteem could be likened to the Tower of Terror when it came to dizzying mid-course corrections. he wasn’t confident that he could do anything right for them—suddenly the social mores of yesterday were obsolete and damn him for not knowing what they wanted at any given moment. the grotto, in comparison, was ungrudging, and he could harbor the traces of his morale in its darkened apse until whatever was causing the spate of hysteria in their female population subsided, and he felt he could interact with them secure that his snout wasn’t going to be an anchorage for angry teeth in moments to follow
with a spirit that was more-or-less pulped by the austerity with which his existence was treated, Lycaon sulked long into the evening. like a man sent to the gallows he dragged his feet through the grotto’s familiar passages, making sure to avoid the recesses that Caiaphas favored lest he catch her at boiling point measured by sustained eye contact.
slouchy ears gathered swiftly over his brow, his nostrils sampling the air with a reservedness that might have been punctuated by a prompt wince were it not for the scent transported on it like a fussilade--a titillating rendition of the smell Caiaphas possessed not long ago; yet he did not feel the instinctual recoil upon its fresh discovery. instead, his pulse dilated and quickened with vibrancy, all senses sucked into the undertow of biological imperative the moment it coiled its tendrils around his toes.
he floated to the ingress of the grotto, meeting her there like their anticipation of eachother was practiced to utter refinement. it didn’t keep the captivation from springing to life on his features when he came upon the form of her uniquely lit by strands of moonlight, body language tense and steadily diplomatic (yet hopefulness slipped a note) as he regarded her sensibilities. trepidations pounded with his outreach--if she let him draw near her, tension would spill out from beneath him like breakwater and he would press his body deeply against her in a most intimate greeting, muzzle seeking to part the fur of her nape and strew warm air against the flesh beneath.
it was to nobody’s surprise, then, that his self-esteem could be likened to the Tower of Terror when it came to dizzying mid-course corrections. he wasn’t confident that he could do anything right for them—suddenly the social mores of yesterday were obsolete and damn him for not knowing what they wanted at any given moment. the grotto, in comparison, was ungrudging, and he could harbor the traces of his morale in its darkened apse until whatever was causing the spate of hysteria in their female population subsided, and he felt he could interact with them secure that his snout wasn’t going to be an anchorage for angry teeth in moments to follow
with a spirit that was more-or-less pulped by the austerity with which his existence was treated, Lycaon sulked long into the evening. like a man sent to the gallows he dragged his feet through the grotto’s familiar passages, making sure to avoid the recesses that Caiaphas favored lest he catch her at boiling point measured by sustained eye contact.
slouchy ears gathered swiftly over his brow, his nostrils sampling the air with a reservedness that might have been punctuated by a prompt wince were it not for the scent transported on it like a fussilade--a titillating rendition of the smell Caiaphas possessed not long ago; yet he did not feel the instinctual recoil upon its fresh discovery. instead, his pulse dilated and quickened with vibrancy, all senses sucked into the undertow of biological imperative the moment it coiled its tendrils around his toes.
he floated to the ingress of the grotto, meeting her there like their anticipation of eachother was practiced to utter refinement. it didn’t keep the captivation from springing to life on his features when he came upon the form of her uniquely lit by strands of moonlight, body language tense and steadily diplomatic (yet hopefulness slipped a note) as he regarded her sensibilities. trepidations pounded with his outreach--if she let him draw near her, tension would spill out from beneath him like breakwater and he would press his body deeply against her in a most intimate greeting, muzzle seeking to part the fur of her nape and strew warm air against the flesh beneath.
RE: This is it, the apocalypse. - Nyx - March 19, 2018
She lingered at the Grotto's mouth to peer into the hollow with a hunter's sharp stare. Lycaon's aroma hung heavy on the damp air within and she waited, fidgeting impatiently until her hungry eyes found his pale form through the darkness. Nyx froze in her place as she rose her eyes to meet his and she relished his longing stare for a moment before breathing deep the scent of him to exhale in a low, beckoning rumble.
Her pulse thrummed and muscles tightened with anticipation as the young Beta made to close the distance between them. It was then that Nyx cast aside any guilt she may have felt for deciding to try her luck with the either of the brothers in the midst of her sudden, feral desire to copulate. In her more sound state of mind, she'd briefly entertained the idea that Ingram might be worth her time - but for now it was Lycaon who remained at the forefront of her thoughts.
When they came together, ashen fur was meshed possessively with gold. As soon as his fangs preened the coarse guard hairs that masked the bold scar upon her neck, Nyx was writhing her frame against his own and arching her spine beneath his touch. A needy whine slipped past her lips as she shifted just enough to thrust her snout among the thick fur of her companion's mane where she could nip at him encouragingly, a heated urging to continue his ministrations.
RE: This is it, the apocalypse. - Lycaon - March 20, 2018
all around them was twilit, yet in that moment his entire world was awash in gold, mulled apple cider warmth. he embraced her entirely, clumsily displaying fervent desire as his legs drew around her withers and his teeth lent gentle, doting nibbles against the tender breadth of her throat and behind her ears. the strum of his heart clouted loudly, ears flush with its sound. soft whines escaped as their bodies magnetized, tangled together. her body discoursing with his in venetian elocution and he begged for it to divulge more, more, more, as his tongue abseiled down her neck.
RE: This is it, the apocalypse. - Nyx - March 20, 2018
She whined sharply in surprise as her pale companion reared up on his hind limbs to grip her shoulders, though did not make to withdraw from the embrace. Instead, she leaned heavily into the Beta's arms and canted her muzzle skyward, presenting the vulnerable underside of her neck to be pampered. It was a display of trust that would normally be entirely out of character for Nyx, though to Lycaon she offered her throat without a moment's hesitation.
She twitched and trembled beneath his touch, whimpering with excited anticipation as he peppered her with gentle love bites and reached her sweetest spots. Nyx parted her jaws, shifting just enough to trail her teeth through the coarse fur of her companion's nape. Suddenly, she twisted awkwardly beneath Lycaon's grip in attempt to wriggle alongside him and present her accessible hindquarters with a sideward sweep of her feathered tail.
RE: This is it, the apocalypse. - Lycaon - March 20, 2018
do you want to fade out to fireworks or keep going? i'm good w/ either <3
slow, and then all at once--the primal rush. she writhed against his touch like a twisted lock. he circled her closely, canvassing the extent of her frame and leaning against it with fierce possessiveness. emboldened, he nosed her flank, working his teeth over her rump, and then with urgency stirring his loins came his intrepid bid to test her receptivity.
she presented him with an opportunity by orienting her hindquarters towards him, and he seized it, savoring the firewater newly revealed by the inviting sweep of her tail. intoxicated--and in the same uncoordinated manner of such a blotto--Lycaon hoisted himself upon her and rested against her back, hugging her frame like a parenthesis curling around a provocative afterthought. his forelegs clenched the uptuck of her hip, excitement laboring his breath.
she presented him with an opportunity by orienting her hindquarters towards him, and he seized it, savoring the firewater newly revealed by the inviting sweep of her tail. intoxicated--and in the same uncoordinated manner of such a blotto--Lycaon hoisted himself upon her and rested against her back, hugging her frame like a parenthesis curling around a provocative afterthought. his forelegs clenched the uptuck of her hip, excitement laboring his breath.
RE: This is it, the apocalypse. - Nyx - March 20, 2018
I'm good for a few more rounds if you are? :)
When she presented herself willingly, Lycaon seized the opportunity without delay. He made to grasp at her with clumsy paws, hoisting himself drunkenly atop her and gripping her in place. His claws raked her fur uncomfortably and the sensation of being held in such an intimate manner was foreign to Nyx who, despite her previous incitement, changed in an instant to a bristling beast within the Beta's embrace.
She jerked her muzzle toward him, hawk eyes peering over a shoulder toward the pale leader with a warning flash of her fangs to accompany the ferocious snarl that she spat in his direction. This hot-and-cold approach was fuelled purely by her flaring hormones, though the tawny Ostrega remained braced and rooted to the spot: her body begged to be taken, but somewhere far beneath the frenzy of her heat she knew that this dance was one naturally reserved for an Alpha pair.
Her aggression dwindled along with this fleeting worry and once more, Nyx' neediness came in the form of her desperate whining. She squirmed, her spine arched almost cat-like as she instinctively pressed back against the heat of her partner's groin in search of a connection.
RE: This is it, the apocalypse. - Lycaon - March 21, 2018
:| sorry love. i got home and promptly fell asleep for several hours
in his virginity and inexperience he may have quite resembled an elephant seal shlepping onto an undersized boulder for its daily haul out. naturally, Nyx's reception of him was lukewarm and he flinched away from the flourish of fangs cast at him, still and all persistent to bestride her athletic waist—instinct holstered him with the courage of conviction as she complained and blustered, her bladed hackles brushing against his breast. his lips curled away from his teeth but he did not demonstrate intent, stabilizing himself with tilting shifts of his hips and then sought to brace her beneath his weight by resting his chin between the gap of her ears.
her keening and arching against his flank caused a rather turgid awakening of things—their eyes met and the translation was done, his intuition listened. he flexed himself against her in response, hindlegs pedaling excitedly as venereal insistence flowered into its most favorable outcome; they joined together in flesh and he felt the vessel of her take him in length. warmth like a basaltic lava flow welled into his belly and rolled out to his toes. his mind could think no further, willing him only to press rutilant brushstrokes deeper against the canvas of her.
her keening and arching against his flank caused a rather turgid awakening of things—their eyes met and the translation was done, his intuition listened. he flexed himself against her in response, hindlegs pedaling excitedly as venereal insistence flowered into its most favorable outcome; they joined together in flesh and he felt the vessel of her take him in length. warmth like a basaltic lava flow welled into his belly and rolled out to his toes. his mind could think no further, willing him only to press rutilant brushstrokes deeper against the canvas of her.
RE: This is it, the apocalypse. - Nyx - March 22, 2018
Nyx flared temper did little to sway the wolf whose limbs remained locked around her waist, and the fleeting moment of hostility was swept away as though it never happened. Muscles tensed and her claws rooted in the sand as the pallid Beta shimmied forward until the warmth of his thighs met hers, fitting her into a place that she was certain had been moulded for her.
She sucked in a sharp breath as Lycaon met his mark and they joined together. Their bodies writhed against one another, electricity coursing the tawny Ostrega's veins with every stroke. Lust clouded her senses entirely and the world faded away, her focus solely on there and now - on achieving the heightened satisfaction that she so desperately craved, no matter the cost.
RE: This is it, the apocalypse. - Lycaon - March 23, 2018
she unfolded for him as he folded into her. his grip around her curves tightened. they rode the waves of each other like two voyaging ships intersecting, his vigor crashing into her yielding frame while she cambered from the motion of his wave decay. two as one they were forces of nature, coinciding as designed; connecting, synergistic—untiringly voltaic.
as the minutes of their tryst lapsed, each propulsion wrought from his hips felt more urgent than the last—a drawn, softened note rising to its prolific crescendo. in the heat of the moment, he fixed to scruff Nyx at the nape of her neck and draw back her head, then with feathered nips delivered to the tender flesh of its erogenous zones, persuade her body to sing with him, to surrender to the sensations of climactic pleasure that began eclipsing his focus and effusing his lower belly with an undulating warmth.
his pelvis stirred against her in convulsions, spending himself in her as he came to nature's most profitable conclusion.
as the minutes of their tryst lapsed, each propulsion wrought from his hips felt more urgent than the last—a drawn, softened note rising to its prolific crescendo. in the heat of the moment, he fixed to scruff Nyx at the nape of her neck and draw back her head, then with feathered nips delivered to the tender flesh of its erogenous zones, persuade her body to sing with him, to surrender to the sensations of climactic pleasure that began eclipsing his focus and effusing his lower belly with an undulating warmth.
his pelvis stirred against her in convulsions, spending himself in her as he came to nature's most profitable conclusion.
RE: This is it, the apocalypse. - Nyx - March 31, 2018
Wnna finish up?
His teeth were at her neck, gathering the loose hide of her peppered nape between his jaws and pulling her head back. Nyx' lips pulled back briefly to reveal her blackened gums to rumble her initial distaste, though her fangs were promptly sheathed with the heightened sensation that she gesture brought. The growl softened to something of a purr and she closed her eyes to focus on the new prickling that began to bloom at the pit of her belly.
Lycaon did not tire, and every sway of his strong hips was more urgent than those before. There was urgency in his movements and as he released his grip upon her to deliver heated kisses behind her feathered lobes. She huffed a satisfied breath, not expecting the sparks of electricity to course through to the tips of her guard hairs, and felt herself slacken in his grasp - like putty in his paws.
With his release came her own, and Nyx found herself whimpering and trembling with a desire for more despite her energy having been spent.