Rising Sun Valley [m] reckoning

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all welcome!

Far from the view of the ocean she went, as if to shield her beloved coast from the interaction she must have with men if she were to birth more children. She would teach them to love the ocean, to revere it, and to welcome its presence in their lives- as dangerous as it might be.

She danced through the valley, leaving a dizzying trail of tracks behind, dotted with scent markers that would advertise her presence. She felt, when she finished her dance, as if she had supped on fermented fruit, and longed for some then- so she might marry her inebriated state to the whirling emotions within her, and excuse herself of any uncharacteristic actions she took.

intent upon his errand of fetching arlette her lavender, a ceaseless and fruitless search, lestan was pinned to the earth upon his return with wide eyes and a searching nose. infatuated with winter's wake, it was the man's face which filled his dreams and punctuated the waking.
but the mayfair was still hale in his desires, and somehow seemed to realize his status as unattached in that moment.
she had been on their borders, this pretty nymph who patterned the snow with her desire.
he trotted after the woman, eyes soft, tail low; he was no dominant who might press, only a man thoroughly ensnared beyond thought.

When she looked back, a dark figure followed her like a fallen leaf, stripped from the branch and carried on a breath of wind.

She did not look to study his features- he could have been ugly for all she cared. She did not charge toward him to test his strength- he could have been spindly and weak for all it mattered. She did not run, to test his speed- it would not change a thing if he had been unable to run.

For the strength of her children would come from her.

Their beauty would come from a long line of queens, their strength from the ferocity of those who had beget daughter, and those who had daughters before then. The matrilineal line was what was pure and golden; her children would excel because she made them.

So she moved toward him, though her gaze fell deep into the man’s sunflower-and-cerulean eyes, looking not for any semblance of his demeanour, but for the willingness to comply with her body’s demands.

she devoured him with her eyes, an amazonian despite whatever flesh bound them both. he stopped dead, tailtip wagging; he allowed any exploration she might want to have of him. to be used and to be discarded; to be demanded into rise; it did not — hinder lestan as he thought it might.
as he thought it should.
she did not speak and thankfully nor did he, inching closer on trembling legs with a little whine proclaiming his willingness to be commanded by her whims for a time.
quietly, witchvoice spoke; mayfair blood! mayfair blood! should it not end with him? alas! too late he was to turn now from his body's lust.

She moved to close the distance between them, noting the friendly, submissive wave of his lowered tail. She showed little joy as she moved around him, her breath fanning and feathering his fur as she looked only for signs of ailments- communicable diseases that might put her sacred body at risk- and ensuring that he had the necessary physiology to perform his duties. She lingered only long enough near him that she felt she might stir more enthusiasm, before she meandered along his side, pushing his fur in the opposite direction as she paused by his shoulder.

He seemed keen and willing enough, and having assessed him and found him without obvious fault, she leaned into his shoulder, snaked her muzzle beneath his chin, and strode forward a pace so that her raised tail could curl around the back of his neck like a feather boa.

being so close puddled lestan's mind; it turned him into a shocked creature who suddenly did not have a single thought of his own. it was comfortable in a way; he drifted eagerly behind her, face blooming with red blush.
here? here! did she want him here? only a little shame wriggled up from the depths of his spirit.
his body, however, was doing a marvelous job of response.
he nipped the base of her tail, gingerly at first and then with a simmering growl.

She stood, grounded, numb to his touch, ignorant of any hesitation or anticipation he might exhibit. She tasted the wind as it toyed with her whiskers, and searched for some trace of the ocean on its breath; some trace of it remained on her lips, savored as if it were a drug that might wash consciousness from her mind. She had danced with men before- with one who smelled of freshwater, just as this one!- but she cared not, now. It was to the ocean that she pledged her body, the salt she sipped from her own lips was a nectar that she drank now, as if in a wedding toast.

Salt proved to be an insufficient distraction; she was not immune to his touch, as much as she wished to be free of it. He drew from her a note of longing, a plea she could not silence; for as much as she gave her heart to the ocean, her body wished to belong to him.

upon that music he rose, seeking to clasp her to him then. he did not tease; lestan responded as powerfully as if he had been puppeted himself.
he a spirit, and for a time, she a witch.
mayfair! mayfair, sang golden glen-runner.
resplendent and restored to whatever stamina she needed; he would go away. he would linger here. it did not matter; in the absence of his talisman it became she.

(invisible) cameo!

Creeping, withering, hating Winter’s Wake watched distantly as the two figures entwined.

One unfamiliar to him, the other… the other!

His heart wailed to watch. Jaw clenched in agony; claws cut through snow and frozen ground as he rooted himself there, afar; snowmelt fur bristling. All of him an insidious eye of burning. Somehow aggrieved.

It did not matter that he had come with the same intentions! Had followed her pirouetting scent as instinct bade! He was allowed. Such a thing meant nothing to the winterwolf. But to him— this!

He looked on until irreparably maddened. Until all sense of balance had gone, repulsed by the smell of heat, by the sight of desire and carnal flesh melding.

Slinking, dying, unstringing, he abandoned his view and returned to shadow.