Moonspear [m] doppelgangland

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: suggestive themes~

Sialuk found routine, and now a quiet moment of reflection, looking out from her ulaq on this clear, cool night. Keen did not come tonight, and the starwoman thought it time to invite another to warm her. She crooned for @Argent tonight, curious what he would make of such an arrangement. The starwoman thought Kannoyak to be more open to the idea, but it was the blue eyes of her zeta she sought tonight.

The woman retreated then, circling several times before nestling onto the doe pelt where she had shared many nights with Keen.

The night was clear—unlike his thoughts. As much as he strode the grounds of the Moonspear and dutifully marked its borders, interrogated others, and hunted for his fellow comrades, there was an unease that pulled at the man’s muscles, and whenever the unease began to shift to a burning itch, his eyes would seek out the distant sight of the Sunspires, pensive and thoughtful—and for a stolen moment, soothed.

So when Sialuk quietly beckoned him to her ulaq, the basilisk son was not surprised. She was a woman of keen perception, and idly, he wondered if she sensed his restlessness—if he remained as open for her to read as the changing of a turbulent tide.

When he arrived, she was not outside as he had anticipated—and he gave a moment hesitation. Ducking forward, the tall silver wolf slipped through the entrance of her home, gaze of ice seeking her out and finding her nestled within the furs of brown—her pale coat stark in contrast. Gently, he leaned against the frame of the entrance—were he a man, he would have hooked his thumbs into the back pockets of a pair of faded denim. “Starwoman,” he murmured, maintaining the facade of a blank canvas and wondering if she could read right through him—

—perhaps in ways even he could not.

He appeared not too much later, and Sialuk smiled at the sight of him. He was what she imagined Meerkat would describe as "a catch." The starwoman believed he had taken the bait—hook, line, and sinker. But this was no fishing trip, and Sialuk did not intend to hurt the hunter. Far from it.

Instead, she patted the doe pelt beside her, much as she had done for Keen. Come lie next to me? she proposed, shifting ever-so-slightly to the side so that he might have more room.

He was met with a smile—a welcoming sight, and something cloying about her current posture. Clearly, she sought conversation more intimately—perhaps without the prying ears of others—and vaguely, he wondered if she suspected his artsiness. His inability to focus as one should, when the shadows of their neighboring mountain beckoned him.

His icy eyes took in the pelt—the gesture to which she welcomed him—and quietly he acquiesced. His form larger—still, streamlined, his attempt was to offer her enough space for security, but it did not stop him from feeling the warmth that emanated from her, and the gentle brush of her fur to his—impossible, in this space. “So this is an ulaq,” he offered, his voice a low murmur as his eyes drifted from her to look around. “I’ve never slept anywhere but under the stars since I was a whelp,” he admitted to her, increasingly intrigued by this culture of hers.

don't mind me, ignoring older threads for this one.

Sialuk wondered if he might be nervous, as Keen had during their first night with one another. He brought talk of the ulaq, of where he had slept nights past. She was not interested in such things—at least not for now. Sialuk pressed herself closer to him, rib touching rib.

Argent, she said, a long pause between his name and her next words. I would like to take you as lover. For tonight, maybe more. It is my way to share this with you—and others. Sialuk did not want to press him into something he did not wish. And yet her stomach tightened even as she reached to press her nose to his scruff.

She sidled closer to him—his name falling from her tongue in a way that raptly gained his full attention. Despite her words, the touch she gave was innocent enough—pressed against one another in a way that could be witnessed by another as friendly. It was the thaw of his icy gaze that spoke more, perhaps, when she placed her desires before him—and the basilisk took his strike only in a way that spoke of how he would try to enrapture his prey in the moment—his muzzle sweeping down, his nose moving to her throat as he planted a kiss to her collarbone.

“To share with me what, Sialuk?” His tone a soft rumble—the intimacy of her den drawing him in, much like the scent of the pale raindrop. “Yourself?” A testing kiss placed further along her throat—his voice turning to a rumble of contentment at her offering to him.

She rumbled with comfort and pleasure at his touch against her collarbone, a simple gesture that sent her whole body buzzing. Sialuk offered no words to his question, but she leaned closer to him, her answer as clear as the streams that started at the upper reaches of the spear. She nestled her nose beneath his foreleg, encouraging him into an embrace.

Do you wish for wife? she asked, yellow eyes searching the pale blue. For children?

She sought closer to him—nose grazing against him and yellow eyes searching—an embrace he encouraged with a pull of arms, nestling her to him, his own muzzle placing kisses along her nape until she turned.

“Yes,” he answered, though he knew it was not such as simple as such. “When the right moment arises,” he murmured against her ear, teeth grazing gently. “The right woman,” he teased, though a smirk pressing to his lips. “If I were to be so fortunate for her to even have me.”

She had asked him the question of a wife before—their first encounter. He had been less committed to responding in turn then—perhaps now, she wished for a firmer response. His frosted gaze studied her, finding himself fond of the way she fit within his arms and the warmth that radiated from her.

Her stomach fluttered at his answer. It was not her time yet, but when it came, Sialuk knew she would have options. It was the way she had prepared her village, ensuring she had more than one opportunity for her own progeny.

Ah, the right woman, Sialuk teased, planting her own kisses along his neck. Even if it was not her Argent chose, she knew whatever woman he found would be a worthy partner.

For tonight, perhaps you will find if I am 'right woman', she said.

Fade or continue, up to you!

Argent stood on the edge of a precipice, his pale gaze studying hers of warmth, amusement pulling at the corners of his mouth as she trailed her own kisses to him—words purring of being the right woman for at least the night.

It was a dangerous slope—knowing the raindrop was of mind to take many lovers and explore many avenues of her clan—and so he could have certainly rumbled that she indeed was the right woman—but to what end, when she only sought for a moment? And he—his own exploration at least for this night would be of her, and the joys of companionship and kinship with another pack mate.

The idea of her sides swelling with the life of her and his children was a tempting one—the feel of her in his arms something that indeed felt right. For now, he could enjoy the moment—and so he sought her, to learn of her—not just the small moments of teasing conversation but of the more intimate gestures of the she-wolf and what enjoyment she found. How she wanted to be held—to be kissed.

How, for if only tonight, she wanted to be loved.

let's fade here since they have a few going!

She let them become one, taking him as a lover as she had with Keen, though Sialuk learned his own special delights. Each moment a gift from him to her, and from her to him.