Silver Creek Not a woman's job

attn: @Addison

It seemed as though this would be Cyclone’s new home, provided she did not go and do something stupid to destroy her place here. So far, so good. She did not know Grayson’s siblings as well as she knew him, but they all seemed fine enough. They had all been in the same pack, but Cyclone had admittedly kept to herself since the loss of her previous mate. His whereabouts were still unknown, but they had given up the search as more and more time passed. She assumed he had abandoned her, unhappy with Tantalus’s choice to put them together. To be honest, Neasa couldn’t blame him. They had not been a good fit.

Hoping to avoid that as a repeated catastrophe, she had embarked on this journey with Grayson and his siblings, hoping to make a new life here without that dark smear on her record in broad daylight. Oh yes, the girls had all said it was not her fault, that she had been a dutiful mate, that she had done everything right, and Cyclone had accepted these false comforts, but she knew that there were other reasons he might have gone. She knew that there was a possibility he had caught some other girl’s fancy outside the pack. Or he might have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had perished. She would never know, nor did she really want to.

In order to secure her a high place among this family, Cyclone knew she would have to make herself useful. That was why, today, she was currently mapping the best hunting spots for the boys. She would not be hunting, of course—that was a man’s job—but she could do the easy work of letting them know where the rabbits made their homes and where the caribou would most likely be found.

cyclone was a harlot.

addison had formed the opinion soon into her first impression of the woman, and there is nothing that can change her mind, at this point so far removed from that initial meeting. she has not missed the glances, the coquettish attitude, the damned free-wheeling nature of the woman, so unlike the odolf girl. she has little doubt that, removed from the structure of the family, cyclone would take it upon herself to take as much cock as possible, with little thought toward her own duties.

naturally, addison does not think highly of the woman. but her duty as aaron's daughter--and, thus, the de facto leader over the she-wolves--bades her treat cyclone with civility, at the least. she spots the bright stockings, so vivid against the ebony of her pelt, from a distance and travels there with little haste, falling into step beside the other with a face of stone.

making yourself useful, i see, she says, her eyes reflecting naught but the path before them. that is good. there is much to do, if we are to make this place a home.

she knows that cyclone still mourns the loss of her husband. but what was he to do? she cannot blame him, for refusing to attach himself to a woman of such character. he is utterly blameless in this scenario; the fault is with cyclone. the harlot.

It was too bad Cyclone could not read minds, or she would have had a blast explaining all the dirty deeds she’d done before meeting Addison’s father. Not to mention the dirty deeds she had wished to do with Addison’s father. Not just him, but all of his sons, too. Oh, if only! Alas, Cyclone had resigned to save herself for the springtime. Even once she was paired, she planned to play (or fight) off any attempts her new husband might make until she was ready to make children with him. Since this pack didn’t believe in cock for pleasure, that seemed to be the only right time for it.

Cyclone glanced in Addison’s direction as the other, smaller girl approached. Neasa herself was no giant, just medium built, but Addison was petite and light. That might have been attractive to some, but Cyclone saw it as a form of weakness. How could such a petite thing be expected to bear many children? Was that not the only purpose of a woman? To sit pretty and give her husband many sons and daughters? If she could only do one of those two things, she would only be half as attractive. The Blackthorn liked to think she could do both, especially if such a thing was passed down. Her own mother had dozens of children.

The boys will want to know the best hunting spots, Cyclone replied. And what was Addison doing for the pack? It was too bad all the best stock was unavailable to her. She would have to be married off to some non-Odolf male who would probably be constantly judged by her brothers. Either that or Grayson would be unable to find a suitable mate, and she would die a sad woman with no husband or children. “Pity,” Cyclone thought.

of course, addison responds, still looking ahead rather than at cyclone. we all must do our part. if she had been able to read cyclone's mind, she would have struck the girl dead for even entertaining the idea that aaron odolf's daughter is the inferior of the two. alas, telepathy between the two is only a tale suited for storybooks, and so they carry on in blissful ignorance, each stewing in their own petty thoughts.

finally, she glances over at cyclone, staring her down while they walk. you seem to be getting close to grayson, she remarks, her voice gently lilting but otherwise emotionless. there is no follow-up; she will let the blackthorn answer for herself. the response will paint a clearer picture of cyclone's desires and dreams, and addison will use the information accordingly.

her brothers will have fine litters with the best of women. not this loose fae, whose eyes wandered more than harrison's paws.

If Addison wished for girlish gossip from Cyclone, she was going to be sorely disappointed. While it was true that Cyclone favored Grayson over the others, she was not about to admit such a thing to her. Besides, she knew what it would mean if she admitted to it. It would mean that she had unclean thoughts about them (which, let’s be clear, she did). A woman with unclean thoughts was not what the boys here wanted, and Neasa was smart enough to play the game. Addison was a mere child in Cy’s eyes. She was two years younger, and she had surely not felt a man’s touch like Cyclone had, given the way she was raised. Her first experiences with whomever was chosen for her would be fumbling and awkward... surely unpleasant for whomever she was with.

He is our leader, she replied in a neutral tone, Should we not all be close with him? Getting on the leader’s good side had never gone poorly for Cyclone except in the cases when they had a mate who—almost always correctly—thought Cyclone was boning their man. Otherwise, it was merely a quicker way to the top. Or rather, a quick way to let a man on top of her, heh. Neasa had a feeling that the higher up she could make them believe she belonged, the easier her life would be. With a mate leading the pack, she too would be boosted into that rank by mere association.

Oh, and the children she would have! Settling down had not been on her bucket list when she was younger, but now the desire was strong. She wanted oodles and oodles of children all scampering about while her big strong mate went off and hunted for them. That was a life she could lead. A life of comfort and security.

oh, she might be a slut, but cyclone plays this game well. addison cannot help the slight curl of one corner of her mouth before returning her face to neutrality, taking time to let the words bloom in her head before she picks which ones to give the woman. of course, the odolf sister says, her voice tinged with a kind of sweetness. some are closer than others, though. it is to their benefit that they know my brother well.

addison turns her gaze, a sudden shock of white, upon cyclone, her expression growing a little warmer. how are you settling in? she murmurs. it is a lot of change to get used to. she draws from the heart, now; she is not a wanderer at heart, and does not know the state of the blackthorn girl. perhaps she is more suited to it than addison--more by which her rival can hold over her head, she supposes sourly.

still. . .if she is to be a sister-in-law to this harlot--if the prospect is inevitable--she must at least attempt to befriend her in some way. even civility would do.

She could not have agreed more with that sentiment. Knowing Grayson well meant he was more likely to pick a suitable husband for her. And hopefully, it meant that she would be more likely to be chosen for a man with power. A strong man needed an equally strong woman, although she was meant to be strong in other ways. If Cyclone had learned anything from her mother, it was that rearing children required strong women. Not that the men ever had to see that side of their wife. Nay, they would only see the sweet, mothering, doting wife.

It is not so different from the ranch, Cyclone replied, then the corners of her mouth turned slightly downward, Although I had hoped that my grief would have stayed behind. Ever since the loss of dear, sweet, boring Jethro, her former mate, she had played the part quite well. His disappearance, and whatever had caused it, was not an uncommon topic of conversation for her. After all, she had to continue to make the others believe that she missed him, despite him being a terrible match for her. I still dream of finding him and— she cut off, blinking away the guttural cry of a widow. He never would have left willingly, she said quietly, eyes downcast and ears flattened to her skull. Nobody had ever said it aloud, but she knew everybody assumed he was dead.

Addison had no right to argue that things were any different. She was young yet, and although Cyclone had not necessarily enjoyed Jethro’s company, she had known her duty to him and had never disrespected him. To be fair, neither had he. In fact, he had barely seemed to know what to do with her aside from bring her food and tell her how pretty she was. She had a feeling not all of the men of Rosings had the same problem.

oh, here we go. addison steels herself for the usual tangent about the woman's dead husband, affecting some semblance of calm as cyclone goes on. she murmurs wordless assent and dissent whenever necessary and appropriate, and shakes her head when cyclone finishes, a click of her tongue demonstrating pity.

it is a great sorrow that he left us so suddenly, addison agrees, her icy gaze settled upon cyclone's face. may the lord see fit to bless you with a man, soon, so that you may bear children. how else was this harlot to be of use to the odolfs? as much as her distaste lingers, addison cannot deny that she is a well-built woman, and her pups with grayson would be a handsome brood.

the scent of deer reaches her nostrils, and she lifts her head, directing cyclone to look in the direction her chin points. there, she murmurs, staring at a small copse of evergreens and berry bushes. they might find luck there.

Addison comforted her, but her eyes told a different story. There was a chill there, and Cyclone suspected Addison didn’t really care if her former husband had died a terrible death or had simply run off. Children were mentioned, and Cyclone smiled genuinely. That was the thing she was going to excel in, she was sure of it. She was going to have oodles of kids, and nobody—least of all Addison—was going to get int he way.

The Odolf girl pointed toward a small outcrop of trees, and Cyclone tasted the air, also picking up on the smell. She nodded in agreement. While she might not have liked Addison for many reasons, she had to agree that she had a decent nose on her. Let’s get a visual to be sure, she suggested, letting whatever doubts she had about Addison fall to the side in favor of duty to the men. That’s the way it always went, wasn’t it? Serve the men, get the power.

She trotted toward the thicket, ears pricked up and steps quiet to avoid detection. Neasa had no intention of getting too close, but she did want to confirm that the herd was still around and not just passing through. As she drew closer, she checked over her shoulder to see if Addison was following close behind.

she lets her eyes roll high in her skull as cyclone trots ahead, heading reluctantly after her. addison has an incredible work ethic, but she's not at all showy about it. (other wolves' opinions on that matter may differ.) the blackthorn woman is showy, ostentatiously so, and she tires of it. how does grayson not see it, too? funny how the needs of a cock eclipse the little irritations of a personality.

the odolf witch draws alongside cyclone, her small frame and paws giving her the requisite stealth for this task. her eyes narrow as she stares around as well, looking for the tell-tale movement of deer. a flash of brown here, there, the rustle of hooves. . .

there, she whispers, glancing over at her companion and nodding toward the far edge of the copse. all she can see are a couple of heads, as well hidden as the deer are, but it is a start. hopefully there are more around. we should let the men know. good hunting is to be had, here. addison turns with one final look at cylone and begins to trot away quietly, heading for the rendezvous point.

they will eat plenty tonight. . .all thanks to addison's nose. cyclone should thank her for the meat she's putting on her bones, as should cyclone's future children--her nieces and nephews?

Addison departed quickly, but Cyclone stuck around for a bit longer, trying to note if there were any injured or sickly looking ones lingering in the herd. She saw none that stuck out in particular, so eventually she departed to return to the group as well. Surely Addison had already taken all the credit for what they had accomplished together, but that was no matter. She had exactly zero chance of being competition for Cyclone when it came to a husband, so that would not change Neasa’s position in the running, so to speak.