Blackfeather Woods Naughty baby here to tease you

Going into heat before the breeding season switch

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: Sex. Rape. Sibling Incest.

Her den was thick was her scent, a familiar odor, despite this only being the second time she had encountered it. Heat. Immediately, after she clawed her way out of Vaermina's grasp, she fled the den, without a word to her daughters or sons (would they follow? Were they old enough to be tempted?).

She was still a mother, her children not old enough to be placed in the adult ranks. She had no yearning to carry pups through the fall and winter once more. But more than simple annoyance and inconvenience at the prospect of bearing children once more, it was the fear of her brother that drove her from her den to the marsh.

But was it fear? Her body shuddered as she sloshed through the bogs, recalling the soft nibble at her ear. How had he known about that? Had it been with Damien that he learned that forbidden spot? What of @Cicero himself, the true personality? Was he even the true personality anymore? 

Her training told her that this was fine. Mephala made no judgement on who her followers took to bed, be they friend or sibling. But she had learned better. She knew not why she kept it a secret from her family, why she never mentioned the history of incest that had plagued her family; the Meloniis. Perhaps she had hoped that her family would be better than that. After all, her mother had sought out new blood in their father, and Damien did not even offer himself as the donor when it came time for her to become a mother. But the relationship of her two brothers told her otherwise, and the sudden interest in her was the nail in the coffin.

She did not want half deformed pups or raving lunatics. But her body screamed at her for someone's touch. Thoughts of Sheogorath touching her ear and other spots plagued her mind, and, finding a dry island in the Mire, she curled up, pawing her ears in a fruitless attempt to banish them.