Redtail Rise the assignation

@Prophet.

her howl sails across the moonlit slopes of the rise, the faintly blue glow bouncing off the snow still left. spring is coming, but not fast enough to totally melt it away. 

spring is coming, and the babes. the fox, with her whelps. she'd seen a rabbit, heavy-bellied with life.

it is her turn.

she stands, stiff-legged, near a cluster of evergreens. the scent is thick and heady in her nostrils—and beyond desire is frustration. why hadn't Tulimaq brought her womb to fruition? 

it is time for another try, if he'll have her.

if. ha. he'll have her. no questions.

He moved, swift and with pride in each step.

Prophet carried himself well in the face of all. Even moreso now that he had solidified himself here. He is, undeniably, the Berserkr.

But she is Wealda.

And he will always bow to her.

A low rumble in his throat, as he sought to close in on her. A brush of shoulders if she did not move away.

a brush of shoulders.

give me chil'ren, she says lowly into his ear, and then pulls slightly away, adopting the slightly bow-legged stance she'd taken with Tulimaq. she looks at him, expectant.

he's older, wiser. he should know what to do.

and if he refuses?

she is loath to shed his blood. he will not deny her. but if he does, Avicus will surely round upon him asking why?

Give me chil'ren.

His brows furrowed for a moment. This was why she had summoned him?

He tested the air, softly ruffled her hip with his nose. He could not taste the season on her, but here she was with desire.

And what was he to do?

Questioning her feels out of the equation — both on her decision of him and of her timing. Perhaps she knew or felt something he did not.

He grunted softly.

Slowly he'd work his way closer to her, testing her in some degree, that this was truly what she wished of him. If she did not protest, neither would he.

He is never far from her, not since their coupling, not since he had decided to take ownership of her body. But it is not Tulimaq she seeks as her want comes - it is the other man, powerful in his own right; this one who would ultimately become his rival.

When he comes upon the girl and her chosen suitor Tulimaq lurks out of view, treating this moment as a lesson in stalking and hunting. He observes Prophet, studies how he reciprocates.

Perhaps the girl only tested her own limits. There was no heat coming from her yet; so Tulimaq would only watch and let his voyeurism serve as a distraction until the time came to have her, all to himself.

there's a prickling feeling upon her nape, the feeling as if someone watches her.

she casts it aside.

now, she commands Prophet, splaying her hind legs a little wider. her jaw is set; her expression brooks no opposition. 

it is not the time for hesitation. they need children here. they need bodies.

all must provide.

Now.

So he will do his task, so dutiful, so loyal. He doesn't do it for pleasure or any satisfaction on his own end, but he sees it through all the same.

Even as his mind prickles with outside irritation. Ignored in favor of appeasing Avicus.

Whenever they were finished, he would await her next words.

Whatever she said or did, he would heed. Time and time again.