Duskfire Glacier vashkorr

the air was sharp with winter’s bite as faust padded through the frozen expanse, the weight of fresh-killed meat slung heavy between his jaws. duskfire glacier stretched vast and endless around him, its silence pressing, save for the crunch of snow beneath his paws.
when he reached the den—her den, the one he had carved from the earth with his own claws—he did not hesitate. he dropped the meat at her feet, the dull thud breaking the quiet.
eat, he ordered, voice rough with the cold. no room for argument. no room for refusal.
then, without waiting for acknowledgment, he turned, stalking a few paces away. he found a rock, sturdy and solid, one that would bear his claim, and lifted his leg. the steam rose in the frozen air as he marked it, as natural and thoughtless as breathing.

@Lousine

she had been asleep. the baritone of faust's voice made her stir and she squinted in the dark beneath his shadow.

lousine didn't get the time to respond before he'd already said his piece and left. before her was what she assumed was meant as a gift — fresh meat. she furrowed her brow, silently expressing her disapproval at his decision to not sit with her, but scooped the kill up between her paws in thanks anyways.

she watched him leave, tracing the curve of his hips with her eyes and smiled at the way his tail flicked as he walked. she waited for his inevitable return with a sheepish grin.

faust didn’t need to turn around to know. the weight of her gaze pressed into him like a hand against his spine, lingering.
he finished his business, shaking the last remnants of warmth from his leg before lowering it. then, without missing a beat, he muttered,
i can feel you staring.
his voice was low, unreadable, but there was something in it—something teasing, something knowing. he cast a glance over his shoulder, catching the way she grinned, that damn look on her face.
he exhaled through his nose, shaking his head before striding back toward her, slow and steady. he didn’t sit. just hovered, looming over her. waiting.

what of it? lousine purred. her tail slowly began to thump against the den floor. i like looking at you. do you not do the same thing to me? she hoped he did, at least. the thought of it gave her butterflies that swarmed in the pit of her belly.

slowly she began to peck at the food offered to her, pulling at a tendon with her claws. she remained quiet and  watched as his silhouette reappeared in the entrance way.

come closer, she beckoned. kiss me.

faust huffed, amused, but he didn’t deny her.
he moved in close, closing the space between them with the slow intent of a predator closing in on its prey. his shadow fell over her, the heat of him pressing near before his lips finally met hers—just enough. a tease.
his kiss was slow, lingering, full of the quiet dominance that made his touch feel heavier than it was. but just as quickly as she began to melt into it, as soon as he felt her body start to react, he pulled away.
his lips barely ghosted over hers as he spoke, voice a deep rasp. you are insatiable, girl.
he watched her, searching her face, waiting for it—waiting for that little whimper to slip from her throat, for her to chase after the space he’d left between them.

a pleased squeak popped out from lousine as she leaned in, throwing an arm around his neck and entangling his fur between her digits. she loved the rush it gave her. the feeling of his breath against her lips. his tongue. she breathed him in and didn't want to let it go.

and then he was gone just as soon as he'd arrived, pulling away from her and leaving her only partially satisfied. lousine flicked her tail teasingly. i know you are, but what am i?

she stood up, then, beginning to pad toward the lip of the den's mouth and raising her head to gather any scents on the wind. she had been cooped up for too long. she almost went without an invitation (though he surely would have followed anyway), but she paused to swivel her head back around. she shot him a look and a sultry half-smile.

would you like to go for a walk with me?

faust blinked at her, the joke lost on him, but whatever. he shook his head slightly, exhaling through his nose, watching as she moved toward the entrance of the den, ever restless.
i will, he muttered, if you finish your food.
his voice carried no real bite, just that gruff insistence that had become familiar between them. his gaze flicked to the untouched meat, then back to her. she had been inside too long, but she had also barely eaten.
he wouldn't let her run on an empty stomach.

though she hesitated at first, she couldn't say no to him. tail wrapped between her thighs, lousine crept back into the den.

are you trying to fatten me up in time for summer? she joked, half-lidded eyes batting at him mischievously. she didn't complain nor argue in any other way — she ate quietly and as politely as she could, given the fact that faust was watching her. she forced him to take at least one piece and, should he stubbornly refuse, she would sit there until he ate it. even if it took all day.

he was a mule of a man, and this she very quickly began to pick up on as soon as they'd met. she still hadn't quite mastered the ways to outsmart him, but she was confident that she would.

do you want children one day, faust?

faust shrugged, watching her with that same unreadable expression, though something flickered behind his green eyes—an acknowledgment of the weight of her question.
i would not force it, he said, voice rough, simple. his shoulders rolled, an absent gesture. like many of my family would.
that was the truth of it. his people bred for legacy, for power, for lineage that stretched long and strong through generations. but he? he had no interest in that. not in taking more than he wanted, and certainly not in forcing anything that wasn’t freely given. he threatened ayovi once, for his gifts to her, but when it came down to it— that moment.
his gaze flicked to her, assessing. do you? he countered, nudging a scrap of meat toward her when she slowed her chewing. she had her own ideas about the world, about what she wanted, and faust—he was still trying to figure out where he fit in that picture.

i wouldn't force it either, lousine replied. i think it's a nice dream. but it depends.

it depended on a lot of things. where she was, the amount of support she would have, if there would be other women to help her. who their father would be.

she thought about a litter of two, three tiny gray-and-black puppies. their little faces. seeing faust's colors in them, his sharpness, his heart. seeing her wisdom, her wit, her graceful figure.

she felt her face heat up.

if we had a pack, maybe. more people to help us. she liked the way we felt on her tongue.

faust hummed, a low, thoughtful sound, his gaze lingering on the dark horizon beyond their den.
we are building it. his voice rumbled with certainty, the weight of his conviction pressed between every word. he turned to her then, his sharp green eyes cutting through the dimness. darukaal. the blood talon. before your very eyes.
a kingdom rising from the ice, carved from their will, their hunger. the glacier would be theirs. the hunting grounds would be theirs. a place shaped by their own hands, a name that would mean something when spoken in hushed reverence.
he looked at her then, really looked, taking in the flush on her face, the way her mind ran ahead of her words. we. there will be others, he said, tilting his head slightly. hunters. warriors. women, if you want them. a pack to share the weight.
he reached forward, nudging her chin with his nose, drawing her focus back to him. but it starts with us.

darukaal.

lousine was awestruck. that must have been why he led her here, why he'd been so content on staying in this land.

that sounds lovely, her tongue passed over her lips as she swallowed the last shred of meat. her eyes sparkled. you could train warriors. i could train women. raise our children with them.

her stomach fluttered. blood still smeared all over her pale muzzle, she leaned forward and snaked a limb around faust's neck. her lips found his cheek, his ear; crimson kisses peppered from temple to chin.

i think it'll be wonderful.

faust let her words linger in the air between them, his expression unreadable. our children.
his ears twitched, and his muscles stiffened beneath her touch, but he did not pull away. instead, he let her drape herself over him, let her voice curl like smoke around his thoughts, warm and insistent.
his breath left him in a slow exhale. then, low and rough—
careful.
not a rejection, not entirely. but a warning. an acknowledgment.
he let her lips wander across his cheek, his ear, the blood on her mouth smearing against the dark fur of his jaw. the image of it stirred something deep inside him, something that made his pulse quicken, his grip on restraint tighten.
his eyes flicked down to her, sharp beneath his heavy brow.
darukaal is not yet built, lousine, he reminded her, voice quieter now, though no less firm. we have time.
he would not deny her this dream—not outright. but faust was not a man who let himself be swept away in the winds of want. no, he was the one who weathered the storm, who stood firm while the world howled around him.
even when it came from her lips.

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: kind of suggestive??? idk like not really but putting a warning just in case

her kisses dialed back in intensity after she heard him growl, instead turning to tiny ghosts of love bites along the crux of his jaw.

but does the potential not excite you? lousine rumbled. what a wonderful life we'll have together.

she stopped her barrage to entangle herself with him, leg tossed over his hip and forepaws tracing his throat. it occurred to her that, in the week or so that he had been courting her, she had not once told him that she loved him. but she knew she did. she knew, in some strange way, from the moment she peeked over her shoulder in the grotto.

it was divine. he had been brought to her.

she kept her love for him in a metaphorical pocket, sealed away until it was the right time for it to reveal itself. but until then, she could tell him everything else.

if we successfully build darukaal, and if you make me your wife, she leaned in close to his ear, canines grazing the lobe. i'll give you as many children as you want purely for the sake of having them.

faust hummed, the sound low and thoughtful, a rumble deep in his chest. his muzzle tilted slightly, allowing her lips, her teeth, to ghost along his jawline. she was warm—soft in ways he had never expected softness to feel.
hmm. his voice was a sigh against her temple, neither accepting nor rejecting, but something in between.
it was not children that excited him. he did not crave lineage, nor did he find fulfillment in legacy. but a wife who was happy? a wife who looked at him the way she did now, with fire in her eyes and devotion in every breath? that was what he would wish for.
he shifted, his head dipping until his nose brushed against the delicate curve of her throat. he could feel her pulse there, strong and certain.
a happy wife, he murmured, voice rough but honest. will always be enough.
he pulled back just enough to catch her gaze, letting the weight of his words settle between them. darukaal. the blood talon. a kingdom in the frost. but it was not the land he truly wished to claim. no, it had never been.

and she did. she wanted to live and breathe faust — some days she felt she almost wanted him to own her, control her every move. a vessel. vessels for one another and one another alone.

lousine whimpered. in the space he created she filled the void by rolling over onto her back, limbs dangling in the air, taut pink belly and narrow, jutting hips exposed for his eyes alone. a vulnerable position. he could cut her open, if he wanted to, right then and there — and if that were to happen she didn't think she would have stopped him.

i think i've changed my mind, she cooed. i think i'm content with staying inside for a little longer. how about you?

his breath fanned warm over her belly as he traced the delicate curve of her, his nose brushing against the soft, exposed skin. she laid herself bare for him, and he took his time, slow, wanting.
her whimper was a song in his ears, a quiet plea wrapped in reverence. faust was no gentle man, but here, with her, he indulged in the rare softness she pulled from him. he pressed a kiss to the hollow of her hip, lingering, savoring.
i agree, he murmured at last, voice deep and thick, curling in the air between them like smoke.
he lifted his head, eyes burning as they met hers. she wanted him to consume her, to own her, to be everything, and he—he would give her all of it, if she asked.
for a little longer.
his mouth found her throat then, sharp teeth grazing, teasing, as his weight settled over her.

fade?