Redsand Canyon backstreet's back alright

you couldn't slice the tension with a chainsaw.

the imperator had only one more question left for her. diesel's thoughts raced, faster than ever before in her life.

the truth was that she hadn't had her heat. in fact, she hadn't had it ever. her mama explained it was normal for their fine breed, and diesel didn't exactly look forward to it. she saw what it did to older chicks, and the sad gifts it left them with after all was barked and done.

she very much wasn't pregnant; but would the truth or a lie be better in this situation? they were pretty uptight folk, these mereons. merenii. mereas. assholes. the breeding rules were strict from the start, but they showed a soft, malleable side when they lifted the restrictions and allowed non-combatants into their midst. germanicus did, although even diesel suspected it was his old wife whispering into his ear.

so. would they show some chivalrous side and let a pregnant bitch in, or would they chase her off to birth her non-existent litter in the wilds, as punishment for nonconsensual procreation? alternatively, would speaking the truth allow her in the big boys club, or would she lose the other lip too?

her face had gone blank with intense brainage.

the train of thought having finally slammed into its destination, the mastiff shook her head. it was done to mix her mindmush into shape, not as an answer. she'd decided on her course of action.

"...yeah." she affirmed with a slow nod, as if it pained her to confirm. 

"in 'aht," a brilliant idea came to her. "it 'aash the 'oolf oo 'aash 'eeth the shcar'achd 'oolfess. 'eeg 'ashtard. giant. i..." she hesitated. her head bent, as if in shame. "i wash no 'aatch 'or heeh. he..." pause. "he took 'ee." that was the fancyperson word for having been raped, right?

her face hidden from view, diesel gnawed on her lip. fuck, if this wasn't embarrassing to lie about. she'd never let a guy stick it in without permission. he'd be cockless before he finished.