Sun Mote Copse world's water

as the other's gaze traced her frame, so did eshamun drink in the visage of the older wolfess, lush with ripened curves only motherhood could bestow, her scarring only lending a fierce light to her confident bearing, and the scarlet of her coat overlaid a strong and battle-tried body.

envy gripped the canaanite -- perhaps a surprising hint of lust as well -- but she was distracted from her odd thoughts by the inquiring tones of the other. "yes," eshamun murmured in answer, feeling no shame as she nodded to the other's silent question. "i do not fear. my lover ... perhaps molech has already blessed us. i give myself willingly to the males of this land, for it is their seed i want, not them."

her brow quirked; she teased the other with a small smile. "i drew you?" eshamun inquired, marvelling -- perhaps the power of a first moon-cycle was that it called like a beacon to all, male and female alike.