Hibernation Point ≡ Go for Gold

Soleon did not role success on finding any herbs. If anyone is interested in helping with a trade you are more than welcome to be the unsung hero to help him find what he came looking for! Or not!

He had left the mountain. He did not consider this to be a long trip, but truthfully, over a half day of travel was beginning to leave him with mild frustration. He had come seeking simple herbs and nothing had just outright jumped out at him.

Maybe he had sought out something too difficult.

Fortunately, the heat of the sun was not pouring down today. The skies were clear, the birds were chirping, and his mood was near ruined despite all of this.

Like a child he gave an impatient huff. Ears were pinned against his head in annoyance and eyes scoured the area trying to find...well at this point anything to not make his trip in vain.

He was needed at home.... While he had informed Reyna that he wouldn't be gone long it was becoming all too obvious any time was too long. Paloma was concerned with the well-being of the matriarch and enlisted to tend to her whelps. That left the rest of the pack unaided in the event he was out on an excursion. It was a pestering thought.

He pressed forward. Perhaps his luck would change.

chucking her near the borders, not past—but she can still be chased away! ISO: a potential baby daddy?

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Medusa did not know where she traveled to now, only that she traveled. If her father asked if she found him again, she’d say it was… some kind of religious sojourn. It might be, she had thought more than once. To be traveling like this and not have any cushy abode to retire to? It better be. 

But she didn’t think too much about it. She marched on, waving her plume behind her and revealing her condition to any who might catch wind of her without knowing she was in any sort of condition whatsoever. No, the only thing she knew was that she was searching for something—but what that something was? Who was to know?

She was the opposite of what he sought. She should have been an antithesis of everything he stood for.

Yet he stood here, tongue lolling slightly, bewitched by the sight and scent of her.

Ignoring the nearby dark-masked man, he marched after the pale woman instead, drawn by her inexorable musk. His nostrils flared, eyes rolled back as he pursued her; he could not help it—she was irresistable.

He whuffed her way, then stopped short, lifting his dark muzzle to give her a long, lingering stare.

Medusa turned on her heel. And there stood another tall glass of chocolate milk, and if that wasn’t just the very thing she was craving! Now not too unfamiliar with what it was that the Gods wanted from her, Medusa marched toward him with all the confidence of a woman that knew exactly what she wanted—and where she could get it from. Who, in this instance. 

She saw his stare. Held it with a hungry sort of intensity. Medusa circles him but once so that he might look at her, see what the Gods provided, and asks, will you help me?

She was strange, so pale—so pale. Conditioned hatred and bile rose up his throat at the sight of her, but that enticing scent could not be denied.

And her voice, too, so level and cultured.

Perhaps the children of light were not so detestable after all.

I will, Vasya promised, his voice husky. He stepped confidently up to the plate, rubbing his jaw along hers, if she'd allow, then her shoulder, her ribs. . .

All the while taking her backside in his sights, and enjoying the view.

Oh, so sinful! 

His father was rolling in the grave.

And yet, none of it mattered in the wake of desire. The first time he'd been truly tested, and he was cracking like a bird's egg dislodged from the nest.

Hmmm. Alright, yes! This would do, too. He would help her, he wouldn’t run from what she required of him. She smiled and said, good, and then she would lead him to somewhere secluded enough where they would not be bothered.

Medusa required no real chase. And so there were no tests, no inquiries, only I hope you have nowhere else to be for a long while, because being separated from the other man was unendurable when her needs presented themselves again. Sure she had survived, she always did, but why make it miserable? More miserable than it needed to be anyway.

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He mounted her without hesitation.

Я не могу видеть дальше твоей пизды, Vasiliy answered simply, and began to move.

. . . . .

When all was done, he slipped from her white pelt like a man scorned but satisfied. He stood with watery limbs, gazing at her with a slightly slack lower jaw.

You are witch, he declared, nodding. But I like.

The Svartravn cocked his head. Your name?

Whatever the hell he said, Medusa liked it. She grinned and said, oh, yes—keep talking to me like that, before they two got lost in a wild dance (with some song from Medusa throughout).

***

More words that she liked as she panted afterward, having once more toed the cusp of something but not reached it. Still, she was satisfied and winded and had no room at all to think smartly.

Witch, did he call her? She crowed a laugh out. She was a priestess! But what was the difference, really? I like, too, she said, more of his epithet and herself rather than anything to do with him. But he wasn’t so bad, and she would enjoy spending more time with him these coming… however-the-fuck long the Gods wanted her here. 

Oh, her name… yeah. She had not even thought of that. Medusa, she huffed out with a laugh, and who are you, warlock?

Warlock? he asked, cocking his head and beginning to rack his brain for the translation of that strange—

Ah, маг, Vasya concluded finally, and smirked. As a holy man, he was happy to take it, although he'd prefer a more reverent name—but he was pleased, nonetheless.

The afterglow of sex did not hurt whatsoever.

Vasiliy, my lady, he replied. Good to meet you, Medusa.

He stretched, long, dark forelimbs splaying out. You are good lover, he added, grinning. Maybe we love again, soon.

Soon, as in. . .ten minutes from now.

Whatever he said, his accent was funny enough to make her smile. And so did being called “my lady”—this man knew decency! Court life and intrigue! 

No wonder the Gods brought him to her. Call me witch again, and we can love right now, she said in immediate answer, and after, perhaps you could hunt something for me. And you. So we can again and again, Medusa’s grin was wide and toothsome, her appetite for him in plain sight.

You like call 'witch,' huh? he replied, bringing his muzzle close to her ear. Witch. We need some meat. I'm happy to hunt for us both.

Vasya ran his muzzle along her cheek and throat, taking her scent into his nostrils deeply as he could.

I will be back, witch, he murmured. 

The shadow left her side. He'd be back with meat—and that, my friends, is a double entendre.

fade? <3