Firefly Glen (M) Yes, and?

Mature Content Warning

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: horn dogs.

Towhee made her way back to where she’d started: Firefly Glen. Heat aside, running around these past few days had been exactly what she had needed. Now, she was a little footsore and tired but happy and horny too.

Well aware that she was in a location central to many packs, Towhee broadcast her desire for company of the virile masculine persuasion with a noise that could only be called a caterwaul. Some of the ears she caught might know her voice, though she hoped for strangers.

The daylight began to fade around her, a few light flurries whispering down from a pale sky. Towhee moseyed through the glen, tail held high.

Dwin could not exactly be characterized by "virile masculine persuasion", but, if someone is screaming your ears off, while you try to get some sleep after a very long day, you have to investigate, right? The smell of parsleys these days was so strong and intense in the air, that Dwin had stopped paying attention to it and purposefully avoided it only, when the scent was accompanied by clear sounds of parsley planting in action. She had been an accidental witness of this one time too many.

Woken untimely from her nap, howeverm she was of "grumpy feminine persuasion" and had all kinds of murderous thoughts, while she moved towards the source of the ungodly sounds. It occurred to her that - maybe - she should have asked Sylvie for a back up in dealing with this horrible, horrible person, in case things got nasty. But it was probably a good thing she had not. Dwin could easily imagine her fainting at the sight of blood and puking all over the corpse they would have to bury. No matter, how much the object of a killing had deserved, what it had coming for, Dwin felt that everyone had a right for a decent burial. 

"YOU!!!" she yelled out to the dark figure in the clearing, leaping towards it (him/her - it was hard to tell) very fast. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" she yelled, now facing the person in question and only a second or two later did the recognition hit her. "Have you lost all your marbles, old hag?" she asked now in a little softer manner. 

Someone leaped out at her without so much as a warning. In her overstimulated state, Towhee overreacted. A snarl tore out of her throat, every blade of fur on her body rippling upright as she leaped backward. She was about to spring back in attack mode when recognition mutually registered.

WHAT DID I TELL YOU LAST TIME? she bellowed. DON’T JUMP OUT AT ME LIKE THAT, FOR FUCK’S SAKE.

Towhee glared daggers at Ceridwen, none of her usual good humor apparent. After a moment, she snorted and relaxed her posture somewhat, though her hackles remained as prickly as a hedgehog.

Go away. I’m trying to get laid, she grumbled, not at all charitably.

"Gone in the cackling mode totally," Dwin murmured to herself and not for Towhee to hear (she was still not fully aware that the other wolf could not hear a damn thing). She was just as dismayed about the whole situation as her elder counterpart was. Moreso because that pheromone flow of hers was attempting to cloud Dwin's mind the same way it had happened with Teya weeks earlier. Disgusted the young Blackthorn took a step back and turned her muzzle to the side. It was bad enough to feel involuntarily attracted to your packmate, who was almost your age. It was absolutely horrible to have the same feeling about this old fur-coat. 

"I think that it is time for you to lie down and get some sleep. With those god-awful sounds of yours you have woken up every bear within the valley. And I doubt that the love-making they offer to wolves is the kind you wish to have," she pointed out, now looking at Towhee, but having no hopes of convincing her otherwise. "What happened to I am done with men and I have had enough children already?" she asked. 

Her fiery gaze cut away, purportedly to scan for any approaching men. There were none. Towhee grumbled under her breath and reluctantly settled her attention on Ceridwen again. She felt a little bad for shouting at her a moment ago, though only a little.

She didn’t seem particularly perturbed, however. She prattled and Towhee couldn’t help but follow every word. She neither smiled nor laughed, at least until Dwin remarked about bear sex. Then she snorted. The first was followed by a second at the subsequent question.

Hormones are a hell of a drug, she drawled sardonically. It’s a fucking joke, though, and the joke’s on me. I guess nobody wants to bang an old lady who yells at clouds.

She wasn’t going to let that depress her. She wasn’t. Towhee let out another grumbling noise, scuffing a paw against the brittle, wintry grass.

"Do you really want to be banged?" Dwin asked, remembering Teya's warning of women losing their minds during the heat and Towhee being the worst example of, what could happen. The young Blackthorn felt both repulsed by the older hag's antics and somewhat sorry for her too. 

"Didn't you say that you had already enough kids and had no intentions of having more?" she asked, referring to their earlier conversations, but she could be easily wrong with the actual facts. "Or... was it about husbands..." she furrowed her brow, trying to remember, but everything felt fuzzy. 

"I think that the absence of suitors has more to do with your yelling than with your general appeal," Dwin told her in a soft voice and kind smile. After all in the parsley planting the man did not have to look at the face, as long as the frame stood steady and still. 

"I will not be surprised that by tomorrow the rumour mill of the valley will be talking about the Ghoul of the March Madness," she teased. 

Yes, Towhee answered curtly to the first question. To the next few, she added, I’ll never marry again, though fortunately that’s not required to produce children. I’ve gone back and forth on the idea of more kids, she admitted before complaining, but you’re asking rational questions when I’m not in an entirely rational mindset.

Maybe Ceridwen was right about the yelling. She probably was, considering Towhee couldn’t possibly know. Had her mating call really deterred them? How else was she supposed to get everyone’s attention if she didn’t holler about it? She thought her scent would bring all the boys to the yard but that didn’t seem to be the case.

Whatever, she surmised, heaving a great breath and waving a paw. Look, I’ll see you around, Dwin, and by the next time we cross paths, I promise I won’t be such an ass. But right now, I have only one thing on my mind. And you can’t help me. I need a dude, one who’s not too young, too old or too repressed. It’s a lot easier said than done.

She swiveled on a heel and marched away through the glen, pondering the merit of calling for @Alaric, after all. What was worse: sleeping with her dead mate’s doppelganger or letting one single stranger father her litter? Towhee shuddered, very displeased with how this season was turning out for her.

Towhee was entertaining to talk to, but the reason Dwin truly liked her despite the old hag's antics, bad temper, foul language and crazy stuff, was her flint core. You could simply not sway her, if she had taken something in her mind. She did not give a rat's ass about, what the world thought of her. She was challenging to be around, annoying as hell too, but the young Blackthorn felt drawn to her. 

And was sorry to see her disappear over the horizon. Yet again. 

Maybe they would be lucky next time.