Grouse Thicket [m] fear the lioness, paint her face black and golden

Not long after Towhee’s return, Skipjack surprised Meerkat by asking if they could go exploring outside the copse. She went very still and stared at him a moment, wondering if his grandmother’s stories had stirred his adventurous spirit again. He’d been such a homebody since his little misadventure to the sweep. Although glad for her son’s resilience, she wasn’t sure how to feel. She asked him if he was sure (“Aye!”), then told him it would have to wait a few days, as she didn’t want to leave Towhee alone that long while she was still recuperating.

It would be a lie to say she didn’t silently hope he would change his mind. When he didn’t—when he reminded her over breakfast for the nth day in a row—Meerkat finally relented. She invited Towhee to come along if she felt up to it, which she did. She asked @Otter to come along too, if she liked, though the girl opted to spend time with @Njord today. The party of three soon set off toward the western fringe of the copse.

Before long, they were puttering through Grouse Thicket. Meerkat carefully minded her son’s movements as they entered uncharted territory, though Skipjack was by now an expert at navigating even unfamiliar terrain. It was sort of a marvel, truly, and it made her happy and sad all at once. She was glad his blindness didn’t hold him back, though part of Meerkat had hoped—selfishly, she knew—he would never want to venture beyond the comfort and safety of his family home.

She stopped suddenly, letting Skipjack and Towhee move ahead without her. Meerkat didn’t want to let her son out of her sight, though she made herself stand there a while, letting the two of them get further and further away. Her mother glanced backward with a questioning look and she just waved them onward. Towhee nodded her understanding and, a moment later, they were both gone deeper south into the thicket.

Licking her dry lips, Meerkat took a few breaths and ventured westward, planning to hit the river before turning back and allowing herself to rendezvous with her mother and son.

Not long after parting ways with Meerkat, Towhee slowed a little and let Skipjack venture ahead on his own. As her orange eyes trailed him, she couldn’t help but think of her grandsons on the coast. Now that she was back on her feet, she should go back to the island. But just the thought of going near that godforsaken place made her feel panicky. And she’d passed a message. Still…

A sudden cramp cut into her thoughts. Towhee paused in the shade of an elm, ears twisting backward as she breathed through the ache. It passed after a few seconds, at which point she began looking around for someplace a little more private to pop a squat.

Hey Skip, if you can hear me, I need to take a sh— Towhee yelled, probably loud enough that not only Skipjack but Meerkat and everyone else in the hinterlands could hear.

It wasn’t an awareness of this that made her cut off mid-swear. Rather, it was the sudden and unmistakable scent of blood: a coppery tang tinged with the perfume of pheromones.

he was sent north to scout - much of what the brothers knew of the terrain was passed down by travelers. learning the landscape was the first step to establishing their territory; soto took this undertaking seriously.

that didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun when he scented it on the breeze.

he heard voices, but having a poor grasp of the region’s tongue, understood little. there were several trails here, but it was the signal fire of one specific wolf that piqued his interest. rife with hungry male machismo, soto followed it to the source.

a dark, older woman. she bore a pelt of scars, a carnelian stripe running along her chest that faded to muted bone. soto was impressed by her stature; she was muscular and large — even by his account.

he made himself known by edging into her peripherals, posture neutral yet communicating the underlying masculine appetite that drove him into these woods.

Not, Towhee ejaculated, possible.

And yet, when she turned and pointed her nose at her own hindquarters, it was unmistakable. She was in heat. Again. Despite believing she’d left her fertility in the desert, her body had evidently decided it was time for round two.

While she stood there in shock, a couple things happened simultaneously. Meerkat and Skipjack exchanged some unheard shouts, meeting in the middle and scrambling in her direction. While somewhere behind her, a strange male picked up her calling card and moved closer.

Abruptly, the four of them convened beneath the elm. Towhee met Meerkat’s concerned glance with round eyes. Surely her daughter would quickly pick up on what was happening. Her grandson would too—

“Grandma, why do you smell so weird?!” Skip hollered indignantly, quickly followed by a jerk of his head as he evidently detected the stranger’s presence and shrunk back beside Meerkat.

You two head back to the copse, Towhee said faintly, just now becoming aware of her masculine company.

Her daughter didn’t move right away, staring hard at Towhee for a few beats. She signed something, earning a nod from her mother. She then took pity on poor Skip and ushered him eastward through the thicket. She glanced back a few times, likely in disbelief herself, but Towhee didn’t see.

She was now staring hard at the bronzed stranger, deliberating whether she should risk indulging this second chance.

there’s two faces besides the one that caught his attention - a younger female with a pup at her flank. she might have earned the cool burn of soto’s examination if it weren’t for the ultimate mood-killer at her feet.

he turned back to the darker she-wolf, noticing a series of hand gestures conveyed between the two of them. he watched the younger female distrustfully, wondering what secret was communicated between them — but eventually, she and her child left.

leaving the amazonian all to himself.

soto’s goldcoin gaze turned wordlessly to the dark she-wolf, noting her hard stare bored into him in a way that caused his skin to ripple.

he turned his muscular form sidelong so she might see the full length of her potential suitor; the various healed scars and cuts that spoke of a survivor’s tenacity; the corded virility of his muscled body; the proud cut of his angled jaw and the cleanliness of his pointed teeth: every part of him a map that advertised his masculine tenacity, and signaled him as a worthy suitor to her courtship.

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The stranger struck a pose and she stared at him like a hungry lioness eyeballing a plump gazelle. Only five minutes in and this was already going so differently than the last time around.

Her brain told her, No. You suffered a terrible miscarriage only a few months back, remember? Another pregnancy would be a huge risk, she reasoned. Besides, you don’t have Meerkat’s blessing. Just because she didn’t argue doesn’t mean she condones this. And do you really want more kids? You keep telling yourself you’re done. Don’t put yourself through this. You’re too old anyway.

Fuck that, Towhee mumbled, taking a step toward the stranger and telling him point blank, Fuck me.

he did not understand her words, but he could parse from her body language her receptiveness. soto turned his hips away from her, basking in the appreciative sweep of her hungry eyes. 

he was no spring pup searching for a few seconds of contact bliss. his was an older, more experienced hunger — one that must be playfully drawn out. 

he lowered his head to signal his intention to approach, drawing his muzzle to her flank as he drank the many scents that clung to her pelt and painted a brief glimpse into her vivid life. 

coursing the length of her body with his muzzle, soto began to pluck the strings of her willingness, testing her reaction to each of his movements with a studied glance of his goldcoin eyes; all until he could resist no longer and found himself seeking the warmth of her pelt beneath him.

Her frank command did not elicit any particular reaction. Towhee squinted, wondering if history was about to repeat itself after all. Her jaw clenched as she remembered his words of rejection. “I don’t want you.” Was this guy about to say the same damn thing?

His muzzle touched just behind her shoulder blade, then skimmed toward her hip. Towhee shivered deliciously, every errant thought fleeing her brain immediately. He didn’t speak, his mouth too busy teasing every inch of her back, sides and backside.

He drove her to the brink of madness before lustfully gathering her to him and unleashing the ardor of a Latin lover on her. Afterward, there was nothing to do but sink to the ground, catch her breath and aimlessly look around for her brains.

Again, she insisted exactly seven minutes hence.

if soto loved anything of the world, it was the plunge from icewater reality into the molten touch of carnal flesh. he roved every inch of this stranger, discovering the hard knots of healed scars as they rose into peaks along her spine, to the soft warmth of her receiving him — all his world to explore as he pleased.

he loved the simplicity of it. the chase and the reward. the hard bend of two bodies pressed against each other. the tension.

he was hardly uncoupled from her when she rose again, the sinuous cant of her full hips inviting him for another expedition.

a rare smile flitted briefly across soto’s hungering face as he reached for her anew. the first time had been sensual but too short for his liking — this time would be done to his pace, as this she-wolf had only scarcely whetted the tip of his appetite.

Towhee enjoyed every moment of the second, longer tryst—until she didn’t. Without warning, she felt a stabbing sensation. She flinched away with a cry of pain, rudely unseating Casanova.

Fuck, she hissed, wincing in the general direction of her traitorous unmentionables as she wondered just what the hell they were up to today.

Her orange eyes soon cut up to the stranger’s face and she added for his sake, Shit, sorry. I don’t know what happened. Is it barbed or something? she quipped, trying to peer around his muscular haunch as if seriously wondering…

He watched the spectacle from afar, but was drawn closer by the scent of the woman and the abundance of voices; and when he was near enough, Arkadiy made himself known by emerging and strutting closer.

The other man had dismounted and so the dog skulked in the periphery as if to await a turn, snuffling pig-like through the greenery underheel and letting his sickle-tail give cursory wags, all to tell these wild things he was no threat; and also, so interested.

There was a hitch to his step, though. A bruising to his haunches and dried blood across his chest, which he tried to hide.

he’s launched aside with a powerful thrust that uncouples him instantly. doubling over from the pain, soto did not see the newcomer until he was nearly upon them. 

the woman he’d previously just enjoyed blissful pleasure with said a string of things he didn’t understand — but his focus now was on the ebbing pain of his manhood, and the newcomer that threatened it. 

soto did not need words to convey the rising aggression that ripples through his fur. he stood straight and stalked his tail out behind him, head and eyes pointed towards the domestic in a threatening display that fully communicated he had no plans of sharing.

But he wasn’t paying attention to her. Towhee saw Casanova looking at something over her shoulder, so she turned her head swiftly enough to tweak her neck. Gritting her teeth, she ignored the pain as she joined her partner in eyeballing the newcomer.

He looked like no wolf she’d ever seen. Towhee squinted. Her hormones urged her to get closer for a proper assessment, though before she could decide whether to actually do it, Casanova began posturing beside her. She blinked at him, then at the new arrival.

Were they going to fight over her? Towhee felt a little thrill. She decided not to interfere, instead standing still to see how it played out between them.

The other, the wild one, was a large contender; he had won once already, having claimed the female and had his way. The direct manner of the stranger's stare earned a diffusive gape of the dog's maw and a look away, but this did not appear to ease the posturing of the other male.

The female looked between the two of them and did not appear defensive or otherwise bothered by the arrival of the dog. This was a tenuous acceptance, or so it read to Arkadiy, who skulked closer to her with keen attention on the other man.

But he had urges, and he knew by the scent of the wild woman that she did too.

soto glances to his side. the woman he laid with is up, curious — her gaze resting on the domestic. 

the fur along his spine rifles. 

he stalks forward stiff legged, head low in hyaenid menace. the domestic comes closer and this is not tolerable to soto despite the she-wolf’s intrigue. 

he lunges for flank, teeth aiming to send a message his body had failed to convey.

Playing Arkadiy out of the scene since he dropped.

Casanova lunged at the other suitor and Towhee sucked in a breath, eager to watch the two fight over her. But she was swiftly and sorely disappointed when the newcomer fled rather than engaged. Her orange eyes tracked his figure until he vanished from view, the fire in her blood quickly cooling as disappointment curdled in the pit of her belly.

Swallowing a sigh, she shot her prevailing partner a speculative look. Towhee guessed it was kind of hot that he’d scared away the other male without really trying. But it was pretty anticlimactic and, honestly, she wasn’t feeling that keen for another round now… especially after recollecting the pain which had disrupted their second interlude.

I’m too old for a hat trick anyhow, she said mostly to herself, pausing to consider what to tell him and deciding on, I had a good time but now it’s nap time. If you’re still around later, maybe we can try again. If not, so long and thanks for all the swimmers.

Towhee lifted a paw to her temple and saluted him, ready to mosey off toward The Taigh but pausing to give Casanova a chance to react.

his blood’s hot with anticipation that does not bear fruit. the dog flees — soto turns around in a wide arc, proud tail bobbing over his muscular haunch. 

but his lover in the woods seems put off. her expressions changed from lustful to singed with something else; he sends his gaze over her curiously, measuring for any sign of receptivity. 

he understands none of what she spoke, but her body language and unusual salutation  — that was a universal tongue easily deciphered. his tail flags but he closes his grinning muzzle, head low as he sees her out. 

a shame; his appetite has only just been roused — but he did not pursue.