Grouse Thicket you always was a letdown [m]

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: suggestive themes, conception

hunting. hunting in unfamiliar terrain was a bitch. but colt was determined to keep their little gang steady. he had decided he'd been wrong about lonesome. she was just sick.
and sadey, well. she would have to pick up the hunting too.
he prowled through the sheeting rain of a cold day, watching snowmelt give way to mud beneath his paws. prey. entertainment? briggs welcomed both.

<_<

Steady, swift feet carried her onward around the mountain range, carefully avoiding marked borders. It was cold and raining hard, but it did not slow the woman. A splotch of movement grabbed her attention, and the girl steadied herself, watching him. A man of mottled fur that rivaled her own. A man of red eyes that reminded her of the innards of prey.

dragging; nares flaring.
colt left immediately off his futile hunting, sparked by the idea of something else. a radiant woman, simmering in scent and pretty shades.
the rogue licked his dry lips and prowled forward. "fancy this," he drawled within earshot, letting her get a good look at his ugliness.

He moved toward her, and she saw the looks of him. He wasn't particularly handsome, but Diantha's choices were slim. There was the silver man from yesterday—she stopped the thought, not wishing to replay the events.

Fancy this.

Khaba had been handsome on the outside, and rather ugly on the inside, she had decided. Perhaps it was always flipped so.

She didn't speak, but she moved closer to take in his fragrance. Her body yearned for him, though her mind was less sure. What kind of a man was he?

a rough one.
a man to the point, to a fault.
he raked his teeth gently through the very tips of her guard hairs. "not a family man," he mumbled, specially not with sadey to tend and when he'd told her not to go off.

Not a family man.

And what kind of woman was Diantha? A family woman? She could hardly call herself that. Her own parents had gone and died on her, and she'd never attached properly to her adoptive ones. Her siblings scattered, her life a string of brief interactions with things that might have been family if they'd done better by her. And none of them had. The pharaoh (the real pharaoh) had been the only one she had even remotely cared for, and he'd gone and died.

Perhaps "not a family man," was exactly what she needed to scratch the itch. Perhaps she didn't need a family at all, save the children she could raise to be her own. Wouldn't they fill the void of unconditional love she'd deserved her whole life? She didn't know, but her instincts told her not to care, and she found herself wordlessly diving head-first into the stranger's embrace.

colt marvelled at that, but set himself immediately to the pleasant focus of her flanks and soft body and winnowing scent.
she would find him swift but not selfish; colt was vicious in his attention to details of any kind.

***

"stick aroun' a few days," he grunted. no need for him to return to the lake just yet. out here was just three of the gang. he'd have to range far to ensure they were safe anyhow.
the red eyes glittered in invitation.

can you add the [ m ] in the thread title and the notice in the first post? <3
oh, and you get #100!

He asked for her to stick around, but she did not know if she would. Diantha nodded anyway. The itch scratched, she found him less interesting now. The young woman did not invite him to curl up with her, though she would not deny his touch if he insisted. Her eyelids grew heavy, and satisfaction would swiftly send her to sleep.

done and woo! can fade here, have another, BTS they hung for a bit or didnt <33

colt didn't.
he yawned, tucked a foreleg under his chest, watched the stars while she slept.
he hung close in possession of not only her but the pleasure she'd brung to his silent flesh. nothing she did could touch that wretched heart of his, but they could distract each other.
briggs was quiet and contemplative.