Luneshale Pass [m] casado dicha

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@Tierra taking place before the muat-riya incident

In Niño’s mind, Sangre was his girl.
They’d rutted like dogs in season.
Got high beneath a full moon.
If he heard her say his name, he might be in love.
Not that he showed it.

Niño didn’t seem to have any feelings.
Hug him– nothing.
Bite him– nothing.
He’d just stare with those sickly pale eyes.
Sex and drugs. Only time he’d show emotion.

He did both with her.
What he liked about her.
She was always ready.
Match made in heaven.
That’s how he approached her now, soon as he brought her to Luneshale. Soto and Juárez, absent.

So he showed her where they grew.
Offered her the green.
Tried to take her between his legs.

Tierra never gave anything for free. She did things because she wanted to, or when she didn’t, because there was something that made it all worth it. Despite not knowing a word outside of her own name, these wolves somehow spoke her language.

She delivered, she got to have a good time, and he kept the drugs coming. Hell, she even got to feel like a part of something on top of all that. How many other girls could say they were appreciated like this? It didn’t really matter that he was ugly. It mattered that he was powerful and still listened, sometimes, to her.

She could work with this. His bosses were unknowns that she mostly avoided. She only pushed back when they were alone and only when she wanted to make things more interesting. They had an agreement, somehow.

He was unpleasant, indecipherable, and could turn on her for anything. She was still thoroughly enjoying this. If he pisses me off I can always change my mind. This doesn’t have to be fun for him.. Her confidence convinced her he knew this. And it excused her willingness to play along.

It’s more fun if you don’t rush it, she said with a coy smile, pressing her back to his stomach and her head against his chest. How’d you say it? Slow? She snorted a laugh. Shit, I could point at your friends if they were here. But you probably wouldn’t get it. She, on the other hand, never felt quicker. The green still lingered in her, sharpening everything to a crystal edge.

He’d taken a moderate hit.
Feels the energy go into his lungs, across his stomach, funneling into his head.
They produced the best coca.
Heightened everything else.
Made the senses more intense.

Sangre must have felt it too.
Likes the way her face halos as the high washes over and through her.
Her teases make his skin burn.
Doesn’t know what she’s saying, but hopes she keeps saying it in that same, poking tone of voice.
The hound grabs her scruff, a warning grimmace shuffling between yellowed fangs.
Punishment. 

But soon he’s running the side of his muzzle all down her spine, into cheeks, across her crown.
Coating with his scent.
Wouldn’t matter, though.
Soon as the jefes pulled up, they’d get their way.
(Where the fuck are they?)

So this time was for them.
And he didn’t know slow.
He drove her small shoulders into the grass, growling.

She shifted beneath him, struggling against his weight without truly trying. Tierra knew what he enjoyed and didn’t mind that it made him rougher. He didn’t waste any time before she was shoved to the dirt, growling and threatening him teasingly. Then growls broadened into sounds of pleasure.

In the end she melted into the dirt beneath them, his weight a blanked draped over her back. She turned to touch her muzzle to his chin, letting her lips rest there a moment. You keep this up and you’ll have me forever, she murmured. She wasn’t sure if she meant it. Right now she thought she did.

He was the only one who would touch her without consequences. If that day came, would it be two of them turning teeth against his bosses? She sure as hell hoped so.

You deserve to be on top. She wished she could say it in words he’d understand.

Even if he could understand her,
Niño can’t say he shares Sangre’s ambitions.
Life was hard enough just getting by.
Wasn’t looking to add insurrection to the rap sheet.

But a new feeling came.
Couldn’t help it.
Maybe because she’s the only one that hasn’t run off on him.
He still rests on top of her like she’s gonna.
Like he has to keep a paw down or she’ll bolt.

He already decided he’d give her some work.
Little things, at first:
Take this message, be a look out, carry this delivery.
Little things.

She wouldn’t take much convincing.
The green was a product that sold itself.
She’d get profit participation.
A place to bed down.

And if she refused, he’d discipline her.
They’d both like that.

She’s still pinned beneath him.
Little meaningless words pressed into his skin.
Niño begins his grooming of her, starting with the underside of the chin.
Clearing their tryst from her red coat. 

Maybe it’s the beginnings of something.
Not what Juárez and Soto oversee.
But the operation that Niño and Sangre ran.

“Aqui,” the hound rises, allowing a modicum of room for his girl to stand.
He quaffs his jowls and rounds her by the hips, tail billowing high over his back.
Luneshale’s white stone scintillates in the sun and between the dirt and alabaster was dug a hovel. 
Crude, with scores of long claw marks that could only belong to one.

He herds Sangre towards his den.
Their den.

This was why. At first she’d thought he saw her as nothing but something to have. At this point she was convinced there was something there, something he had with no one but her. The way he seemed more gentle after, the way he cleaned her coat. It was attention that bound her to him just as much as the green.

She would help him if she could. Her goal right now was to make a place for herself here and she saw in him an opportunity for this as well. Maybe someday he’d find a line she couldn’t cross. That hadn’t been the case yet.

Tierra let out a reluctant breath as he got up, but followed. Aqui. He used that one a lot. She’d remember it for if she ever needed it.

Making it official then. About time. She knew this wasn’t actually that. This was crazy. She couldn’t speak more than a word or two and she didn’t even know his name. Didn’t matter; she’d convinced herself this could be it. Other girls would kill to have a love story this cool.

She pressed her side to his, then brushed a bit of dirt from his shoulder with a smile. I accept. Obviously.

Sangre treats him gently now.
Like something of her own to prime.
The hound feels the narrow length of her pressing into his side and cloaks her dark shoulders with a heavy arm.
Chases the corner of her maw with his teeth.
He reigns her red figure into the warren, then squeezes through the threshold after her.

Instantly starts checking it out, doing a mental inventory.
Place looks good.
Just big enough for them.

A dangling tree root brushes past his eye and he snaps it in two.
Stalks towards Sangre, with that same nothing-look in his eye.

But he watches what she sees.
As if searching for signs in her face;
Her body.
Attentive.

It was the only shared language, what they said with their bodies.
Sangre told stories on her face.
Disgruntled– then he’d know it.

If she didn’t like it, they’d go someplace else.
He’d do that.
This was affection, on his part.

He knew what he was.
Criminal.
Killer.
Monster.
But she treats him like something worth having.

Towered in the entryway.
Too large for the space that now smelled like her, and what they’d done all morning.
The coldness finds her brazen gold eyes and from his throat is uttered:

“Octavio.”

He seemed to be watching her for something. Tierra looked around but, truth be told, she wasn't picky. She'd play at having standards when she wanted to fuck with someone but, in reality, she'd slept both outside and in barracks. Her most significant stay in a pack had been Mereo, which was the practical opposite of "comfortable".

Compared to that, this place was downright homey. Especially because it would be just the two of them occupying it.

She was more interested in him, watching from her periphery as she made a passing inspection and poked about with no real curiosity. If he was nervous she'd let him linger in it a moment, but of course he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing it. The guy was unreadable as a rock.

Then he said something that threw her and made her stop. She hadn't heard it before which meant it was something new, and it sounded enough like a name for her to make a guess. What was weird was that she hadn't asked. She definitely hadn't expected him to just offer it like that, freely, almost like he wanted her to have it. Why? Like... okay. She could create a million different reasons why in her own personal dream of how this shit was going, but really. Why?

Octavio. She repeated it back, turning to look at him. It meant something that he was giving her this. It had to. So it was another thing, like so many others, she'd only use when it was only them. She'd always been comfortable shifting her actions to whatever suited the ones she was around in the moment but she'd never done it quite like she did it here. With him she was Sangre. With the others she was nobody, just another number lurking on the edge of their gang (for now).

And Tierra? She felt the pressure to give her own name. But then she thought of her mom, and the Redhawks, and everyone who she hadn't seen in what felt like forever. She tried to imagine them here and she couldn't. It didn't fit in any way, but this was what she wanted. She didn't need to bring any of that into this. Sangre was a name that fit here. Hearing Tierra would just remind her of all the reasons she should be second guessing the choices she was making.

... and Sangre. She came over and nosed at his cheek, letting her tail wave lightly behind her as she gave him a secret, but genuine, smile. This could be theirs. And, for now, no one else needed to know.

Doesn’t use her real name.
Doesn't matter.
She’s Sangre to him.
Blood.
That surge in his veins when her nose is at his cheek.

“Sangre,” he rumbles and shoulders her against the gritty dirt wall.
He runs his teeth through her dark fur.
Settles his mouth against the silver pulse in her throat.

His hand undoes the wrappings of a fresh mince. He takes the green powder onto a paw and lifts it to her lips.

He'd be whatever she wanted.
Long as she kept looking at him that way.

Her pulse began to race as he pushed her against the wall, teeth tracing her neck. She wasn’t afraid. Despite their start and his rougher moments, he didn’t seem to want to hurt her. It wasn’t really necessary anyway.

Sangre took the offered drugs, catching his gaze invitingly as she cleaned the powder from his paw. Then she wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him in, returning the favor with a nibbled trail leading down his neck, chest, and further still.

Exploration. If he could bring her to a new place then she could do the same. If you have me, then find out what that means. I’m gonna so make sure you know how worth it I am.

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Niño needed no convincing.
Thoroughly transfixed by those eyes.
Moreso as she sunk down.
Stared up at him prettily.

He kept his palm on her head, messing with crimson ears.

She wouldn’t need any convincing, either.
It was her name squeezed through gritted fangs.

And when it was over she was seized by the tail, his teeth drawing her back.
Made to lay.
Lathered in the praise of his tongue.
His lips.
His teeth.

Fuck, he knew he was in too deep.
But he didn’t want to be rescued.

She had never been shy. But this was something entirely new. In all of her pursuits, she’d never met a guy so incredibly hard and, at the same time, so incredibly easy. Tierra didn’t give without taking. But she’d somehow known before she even started that he’d make it worth her while.

She did her part to bring him to the edge. There was a power in that she liked; he said her name like he couldn’t have contained it if he tried.

Then it was her turn. The drugs gave the light a surreal glow, eyes open or closed, it didn’t matter. She was helpless in its beauty and the things it accompanied.

After, breathless, she wound herself against him and pillowed her cheek on his back. There was a chance he’d need to go, but she hoped he was as tired and content as she was. This place was theirs, yeah? Then it was theirs to enjoy.

Whatever this was, it was perfect.

The warmth of her body feels good to him.
He reaches to nose her cheek once before his own head sinks into the dirt between his paws.

Just once the dead eyes glint with something like contentment.

He stayed. It wouldn’t take long after that for her to drift into dreams as her breath slowed to sleep. She slept harder when the drugs wore off. He probably wouldn’t wake her if he left, but for the moment, she knew he was there.

last for me <3 I love every bit of their messed up little sitch

<3333

He didn't go.
The pretty rest of her blood-red head was made more beautiful against him.
And eventually when Sangre's breathing slowed, Niño's did too.