Otatso Wetlands [m] dans cho

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: heavy suggestion, conception. set for tomorrow 1.14.24

having rested, having hunted, having embraced the wild fragrances of the land upon her, at dawn mireille followed a frozen waterway.
she headed in no specific direction; she heeded only the call of her body and placed paws where instinct dictated that she might.
and all around her, the air was brightly gleaming with her own want, the silent calling of an urge that must be satisfied.

His urge to scout was boundless; and while he knew he would return by day's end to find the Star. Her perfume both allured and haunted him- so while she rested, he sought a bit of oxygen, stretching out his stride as he moved along the riverbanks. He felt a tug in his abdomen when he made his way through the Grove again- only to find it answered and renewed when the scent of another woman came on the breeze. 

Any consideration he had was hasty, and smoothing his tongue over his whiskers hungrily, he set out to find the woman whose scent summoned him now. A new woman- one who smelled of brine and musk. Windsong made him deaf to any thoughts of repercussions. 

Rust and sand were the colours she wore, and her eyes gleamed like forest foliage. He pushed his whiskers forward and approached, ears perked and step light. His waving tail intended to show his interest, though he thought better of crowding her. His herding instincts drew an intensity into his gaze, though his lips remained soft. He uttered a low croon- an offering of himself.

beautiful in another way, and mireille saw the mien of his features first. she thought of the seawolf; she smiled to see that the earth goddess and the saltmagick had brought her another pretty man, neither of them boasting the musculature of previous consorts.
lovely eyes.
this year, she found herself more appreciative of their looks; she would not remember their voices nor their names, but perhaps she might recall a face when it surfaced in her pups.
a sharp sound; mireille turning to race between the frozen tendriling streams.

His coat lifted as he was appraised; he was a modest man, but he knew to peacock so that she might see the fine gloss of his short but dense coat. His fur moved in rippling waves as he walked, complimenting the lean musculature hidden beneath. He caught a glimpse of her smile, and returned it with one of his own, teeth still sheathed. 

He crouched when she yipped- and sprinted forth after her, huffing out puffs of hot air with each stride as he followed suit, mindful of his footing and the ice that lurked nearby. His head snaked low, and with a soft chuff he applauded her speed and movements- his herding instinct both triggered and satisfied with every movement she took. His gaze was locked onto her- ready to anticipate any movements so she would not easily shake him from her path. 

Snow flew by him- but he raced on, undeterred.

to the right, a swerving; a rush of snow sidelong, a flurry of flakes to follow.
the man persisted, his agility a new delight to mireille.
and to the left; this time she curved hard, banked harder;
her tongue was lolling with the effort, with the anticipation of it; the obsidian put on a great speed and set herself to outpacing the man now, throwing a reckless look along her shoulder as she admired the sheen of his pelt and the strength of his gait.

While his appearance brought him little pride, his speed was certainly something he could flex. He careened down the path at her heels, turning sharply and lengthening his gait to make up the speed it required for him to follow along on the outside. He checked and swerved with her, on the inside when she moved that way next. Within him was the ability to shift like a cloud on the wind; to bend and move with flocks of sheep, herd them with a sharp gaze and nips. For her, though, only the cheshire grin that persisted as she tested him. 

She rocketed forward with the sparrow diving into her wake like a hawk diving through the air. At the glint of an emerald side-eye, he felt teased- and merrily, he put on a burst of speed though the cold air caused his lungs to ache. He drew alongside her, so that she might see him rise to her challenge. He would have laughed, if he could- filled with such joy, but the rhythm of his stride worked his lungs into a percussive pant. 

Instead, he grinned- and attempted to pass.

swift; mireille was not disconsolate to see the man move to her side. shoulder to shoulder they ran for a momentless space of time, their breath and the churn of the snow the sum of their awareness.
and suddenly mireille was halting hard, falling back upon her haunches in hopes he would run ahead; she used the last of her running strength to pretend as if she would run in the opposite direction, only to arc back toward the man in a semi-circle as her dash slowed to a trot.
and as mireille circled, she kept her eyes upon his, pride upon her countenance.

A wreckless sport!

He had been reprimanded in his youth for foolhardy sports- for risking injury for the sake of amusement. Now, though, he saw that practice become a skill- something that seemed to be gaining him some ground until suddenly, the rust woman halted, head lifting as if she had suddenly been pulled back by an invisible tether. He waved his tail in circles as if to act as a rudder as he swiftly steered himself around, panicking for a moment as if her absence had stolen his breath. 

And there she was again- though he remained breathless still, captivated by the woman who had finally given him a proper run. His grin was wide as he trotted back toward her, slowing to a halt as she moved in an arc around him. He pivoted so he might watch her, matching her gaze hungrily. 

He began to sidepass, a practiced, nimble move that he hoped might cut her off, and bring them closer together.

they began a ballet of sorts; mireille allowed him a full breath of touch, muzzle pressed where he would while her tail wavered. then she drew on, though this time her own mouth snaked for his, her tonguetip to shoulder and hackles —
he was powerful in his own right and his persistence pleased her; mireille mouthed his jaw and at last wound her hips between his forelegs, smouldering with encouragement.

She spoke with movement and touch that was a language he could understand. Even though she was a stranger, and him a new initiate to manhood, he understood that he would need not hesitate. He could reach and in turn, so could she. He felt her lips at his cheek, and closed his eyes as she traced along his jawline. He flirted with danger, now that the temptation was so great, immune to the peril he would normally associate with having fangs so close to his windpipe. With each second he felt his heart rising in his chest, flooding him with warmth that spread and tingled through his extremities. Each touch received was rewarded in turn as he learned reciprocity; he was a willing student, learning from a capable tutor.

One experience had awakened him and now, he no longer wished to sleep. Curiosity caused him to stall, and he would deny her initial request so that he might fulfill it instead with touch for a few moments, only to find that it made him feel touch-starved and more desperate with each passing second. Denial nearly brought him to his own breaking point, so when he reached for her, it was with urgency. 

He awoke again- and with ragged breaths, succumbed to the dream he would want to live in for the rest of his life.

his attentions stoked mireille; she glittered beneath his touch and scintillated when he at last joined their bodies.
there was pleasure in it for them both; mireille had learned to take what she wanted for this one week a year, and so maneuvered her second lover into a variance of poses more designed for her own delight.
in the end, mireille gained what she wanted; the moment they parted she rolled delicately aside and did not groom any part of him from herself. 
the greengem gaze asked his name.

He was surprised at how different it felt this time- something he had not known to expect, but something he welcomed though his enjoyment was relatively short-lived, due to the maddening effect she had on him. He rolled to the ground beside her, wriggling so that he could press his belly against her side, and sneak his muzzle beneath hers for a moment, feeling the softness of the fur beneath her chin. 

He smoothed the fur of her cheek with a lick, and noticed then the piercing emerald gaze, warm with what he assumed was fondness. He smiled, and blinked lazily at her. "You're amazing," he said quietly, so the warmth of his breath would not cause her pretty green eyes to blink.

"i know," mireille teased with a sultry look; she let her lips feather across his muzzle and then she was pulling away, setting her boundary in silent iron around herself as she finally stood to her feet.
the other man, catamaran, he had given his name. would this man? mireille knew that these moments were quite important in departure; before she had driven them off. a smile was upon her face, but she did not wait before she was turning, aiming for a wolf's-trot that would hold off further sentiment, she hoped!

Whatever he had thought had been his purpose in life, and the meaning of life altogether shifted now, with every word she spoke. He had never expected to feel such things, or to have someone look at him the way Ash Star had, and now the way Mireille had. Cold indifference or annoyance were all he had ever expected from women. Mira had at least accepted him, though her use of him he could recognize now had been relatively cold. None had smiled at him this way, and this revelation completely obliterated whatever expectations he had previously had. 

"I know you know," He murmured, his voice thick with praise. He reached to pull her closer, but found her slipping away and rising to her feet. He felt cool disappointment trickle in and he rose hastily to a seated position, wondering why it was she had moved away so quickly- he could have stayed there beside her for hours, whispering compliments into her ear. 

And with a pivot, she turned and began to trot off. 

"Woah, wait, please!" he blurted, picking up a trot to pursue her. "Did I- I'm sorry," He apologized, as his mind raced- trying to pick out whatever it was that he had done that might have offended her. She hadn't seemed offended- she'd smiled just before she had turned, hadn't she?

the man did not understand, and mireille turned back with an eye more sympathetic than she might have offered under other circumstances. "go," she ordered with a flick of her tail, now more prickled in her guardianship of self.
"t'ere be no need for sorries," the obsidian purred. "you pleased me. but our time is over, non?"
rhetorical; now she turned again and kept her same speed, ears flicked now to listen if he pursued; now that she had stated her boundaries, she would feel no remorse in enforcing them.

He flinched at the command, tail drooping and ears softening, a portrayal of his sadness. To be dismissed so hastily made him feel as though he had been inadequate, and that perhaps she was looking for someone more experience.

There was warmth in her tone, but he sensed she was simply being charitable to try and spare his feelings. He got the impression that this wasn’t something intended to be taken personally and yet…His feelings were hurt, to left before the bedsheets had even cooled.

”Just-“ She turned and trotted. He followed, though at a distance, knowing he was pushing at her boundaries. ”One thing- I promise, please,” He had fulfilled her request- he hoped she might be charitable enough to do the same for him, but was wary all the same that she might turn on him now that she had concluded their involvement.

men; so cloying and needy. thus far no one had continued to follow mireille; this interaction stirred up a bad humour in her and now she did whirl upon him with a sheen of her fangs.
the obsidian growled, tail lashing as her ears splayed; he had made himself unwelcome with this persistence. did he not understand that this was how things must be? her advance was slow enough for the man to shout what he wanted, but her jaws promised a pinch if he allowed mireille to close their space.

She turned, and he was hopeful for less than a breath, until he saw the sneer on her face. Those fangs which had been gentle and trustworthy earlier were now shown in a warning- one he answered with a bowing of his posture, an attempt to appease her as she advanced. His tail waved furtively between his hind legs, and he averted his gaze, flicking his tongue over his lips to show that he accepted her dominance. 

"If I'm never going to see you again-" He said, as she had made it clear that there would be no more from him. "Just....Let me look at you, one last time." He beseeched. A simple request, that he hoped she might endure.

mireille obliged; her flanks lengthened, her neck arched, and for a moment she was a blood-red vision against the taiga sky.
but in the next moment she was lunging for the man; tail up, teeth flashing; her claws tore in the snow and she meant to rout him from the place of their interlude posthaste.
his welcome was worn; the clip of her jaws would remind him far more of her than any staring could bestow.

<3

For a moment, he feared the possibility that he might never see her again. She had made it fairly clear that she'd taken all she wanted from him, and that he was dismissed- but having tasted nectar, how could a hummingbird ever refuse the sweet liquid and feast only on dry seeds and fallen nettles?

A moment later, and he had something much more dangerous to fear- her lunging, snapping jaws. He obliged her command, and scampered off- sneaking in one very last glance over his rolling shoulder before she faded out of sight.