Bearclaw Valley [m] You can be everything you want to be before your time

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All welcome!

Mist hung low over the meadow where Ameline gorged on a fresh kill. Out in the open beneath the moon, haloed above by a ring of silver, she consumed her meal but found herself growing more agitated and ravenous as she pulled the corpse to pieces. Irritated by the springy connective tissue in the rabbit’s leg that simply would not pull free without a fight, she whipped the last morsel into the air so that some other scavenger could deal with it.

Moments later, she picked it up, and selfishly swallowed the leg down in two bites. Her stomach could handle it. 

She sniffed the air, and licked the blood from her lips. @Cole and @Tvar had been haunting the meadow, and she felt suddenly very vulnerable- an unusual emotion for the Regina. She knew the men were sold to their duties- but could they truly be trustworthy, when their queen became a beacon for those of their gender?

She returned to Bearclaw, hunting for @Ancelin now that she knew the true source of her own hunger.

patchwork knightking waited for the return of his queen, indigo eyes shining with eager pointedness when he spotted the grace of her loping form. blood laced with ameline's inviting fragrance, spiced now with —
he had not understood until it was upon them last year. and this — he understood his agitation as of late, his intent guarding, his unlikely unwillingness to range further for prey.
ancelin slid down from the redrock sentinel marking entry into their valley and nipped fiercely into her guard hairs. "you smell nice," he smirked, mouth against her neck, tail waving with sheer delight to see her again, returned, wreathed in the feral wilderness.

Thank fuck, She whispered to herself when it was her husband who kept watch on the sentry stone. She moved forward to greet him, arching her back like a happy cat beneath the praise he spoke. She pressed his shoulder to his, raising her grinning mouth to crack open her jaws and feather her teeth through his fur. 

Call one of the otherth to take ovuh yuh watch, She commanded him. Yuh gonna be buthy.

he enjoyed her command enough to almost clasp her hips here. but ancelin snarled in pleasant response, howling a sharp note before goading ameline into a run which trailed her scent delectably through the woods entire.
in the meadow which would come alive with blue flowers before summer arrived, ancelin set tongue and claws and teeth to please, to stoke, teasing his queen until she saw fit to command him in a curve over her spine.

Ameline’s teeth snapped together as she yielded her ground to him, shepherded by the man who sought to push her away rather than pull her close and satisfy her cravings. Bitter fire was stoked within her- and the surly Regina wheeled away from her husband to fly across the meadow. 

Whirling featherlight, she danced before him and denied him closeness every time he reached for her, as if his touch was a spur to soft skin. Giddy and spirited, she darted through the meadows- making sure that he followed, but not easily.

their play soon edged itself in ice, and ancelin found himself in a possessive furor as he pursued, snapping at her heels and nipping toward whatever flank soon moved beyond his reach.
her scent billowed around them, around their forests and stone spires, around their trees and their altars; he became drunk on it, eyes darkening as ancelin took the aspect of wealded rogue and focused wholly upon the round hips of his queen and markswife.

Often, her husband was playful, insincere when it came to spars and chases. Effortlessly, he restrained himself not with any amount of force, but through the use of his good humour- a weapon Ameline could not generally wield. 

Today, though- he was a man with an aim, his lust a bowstring drawn tight as he notched himself as the arrow. After her he flew, and Ameline's playful tease was not sincere enough to lend her the speed to escape. She did not like to be bested- but in this match, she felt victorious in allowing the arrow to land where it had aimed, knowing that there was much to be won for both of them.

he met her speed and tossed small blows at her hips and heels, hoping to trip ameline in the manner of cats. but they were wolves here, bearwolves worshipping in the ancient bygone halls of cultists, whose altars sang with ivy and whose names had been covered by the crawl of morning glory.
he followed and teased and grappled until one hard forearm had come to bear around her honed waistline, until his teeth were at her ruff and the heat of their bodies mingled.
ancelin wanted to tell ameline he loved her, but the words were burnt out of his head; he must only show, illustrate with an aching jointure how she had never stopped being his ultimate obsession.

She writhed and wriggled as one limb caught her like a hook, murmuring a rumble of approval as he drew them closer and closer together. She arched her back like a cat, to feel the hard plate of his chest against her backbone, to feel the hollow behind his ribcage with the top of her hips. She lifted her head and sipped a dram of air, felt herself burn as if a sun’s ray had reached out to pierce her. Parted lips begged for more- quietly at first, before raising into a rhythmic mantra, spoken on broken, guttural breaths. 

She choked on her own words and was left with her jaw hanging open, eyes tearing up as warmth engulfed her. Her limbs shook as a deep shudder rattled her frame, steadied only by her square stance and the weight of her mate keeping her feet planted. She gasped, drew in breath that brought feeling back into her extremities, finally, and crooned a keening note to her mate.

he was without shame in his vocalizations, living for the sound of her own delight. he was her knight, her rex; he attended all of ameline with a teasing slowness which he had only cultivated through their generous rompings all the past year.
his own eyes shut, a reverence cowling the bearwolf.
so perfectly they fit as one, and he found his hoarsened voice long enough to express this with words meant solely for her fluted ears.
his breath hitched; he caught himself at control, a guardsman reining horses at the very edge of a cliff while a coiffed lady stepped down from her pearled carriage.

Normally she might enjoy the lush offering of attention and encouraged it to endure for hours if possible. Now, though, her ravenous appetite need to be sated more urgently. Her cries were not pleas, but commands. She sidestepped from tame courtship and voiced in dark tones the depth and profundity of her needs.

Her body heated, making her feel as if her own pelt became a sweat lodge. The snow beneath her feet melted, the fury of her movements caused her to belt and moan with each exhale. When when her peak was reached, she voiced it with a shrill, trembling note. 

Once they became separate, she groomed the warm fur of his chest. Our time, She purred. Put babies in me, Ancelin- so many babies.

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: LANGUAGE & PHRASING

they had just come unbound, but her words had every vestige of ancelin's attention. "i!" he declared, hauling himself onto jittering legs, "will die in your service, my lady. and," grabbing for her, "if i died inside you, my ghost could go on happily."
but she had fired him up again; ancelin frisked around his mate, nipping at shoulders until, frenzied, he wrapped limbs to hips and pulled her roughly beneath him, ready to answer her as the feral bearking he was swiftly becoming to their fierce valley.
his own voice rose, delighted; her words rattled in his brain, driving him, driving him, her want woven directly into the instinct which heated them both to overboiling.

She felt a mix of shock and delight when he grabbed her again. Warmth that had lingered between them was brought to new heat again; smouldering embers fed new kindling and with a gasp she received him.

She spurred him with words, with sounds that weren’t even words, pleading with her voice though it rippled with the rhythmic pulse of their dance.

It might kill them both, to exhaust themselves this way- but what a happy way to die!