Grouse Thicket so i a[m] i point one back at them but not the index or the pinkie

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: heat

looks @Colt

it happened again.

the bitch found herself victim to a tickling nibbling, eventually growing to a hurting biting. it began somewhere below the tail maybe a day back, and had - by the time of that tuesday - spread to her brain. 

she was cookin' in her own fumes.

gun pulled herself out the river. sopping wet from tailtip to drooly lips, she shook out her pelt and wrinkles. a sight about as lovely as a bathing rag being squeezed dry after use by a team of nfl linemen.

smacking her lips, gun plopped down with her back to a tree, proceeding to then use it as a scratching post for her mysteriously tense back. not a single synapse fired in recognition of her by now second experience with oestrus.

red no longer seemed to care for colt as she had, and this plagued his mind as he hunted around the territory, hoping to settle iseul among the remnants of his gang.
today drew him into the open, body responding even as man's mind did not; and then that too focused with the cocking sound of a shotgun.
he wondered if the woman from the copse had turned up with brats; he decided he did not want that for her, but the scent belonged to gun he found.
the scarlet eyes scanned her powerful frame. they'd had a good time, he and she, but colt was shrewd. he'd denied sadey the ability to bring pups into the gang, be damned if he fell pa to a litter the second go round. 
weren't no place for baby bastards, that's why colt threw them far when the urge took him. a tongue bathed his jaws, and he arched a brow but said nothing.

'shup, ugly. she sneered, still attempting to undo the tension from her muscled back. was it the weather, or did her boss ( yea, no matter how high chatty ranked ) look a smidge less like a well-blended chicken smoothie today...?

nah. she was just horny as hell.

with a grunt and yawn, gun got to her paws. the yawn stretched to a big grin as she lumbered towards the man.

shay, 'ee uh, she slowed to an odd-paced waddle, her eyelids slapping in imitation of coyness. didn't really rou'houshe enoug', y'know?

a step.

could go hhor round two.

a step.

ash in, right now.

as coy as a car crash.

colt briggs rolled his ragged shoulders and spat wryly into the dirt, a thin brown stream of eternally juicy birch chaw. "reckon i would be deeelighted — under any other circumstances, gun." 
there was enough honeycomb rasp in his voice now to tell the fighter that the cowboy did not lie. they'd been the sort of rough roll he enjoyed quite a bit, but this was something else entirely.
"can't be knocked up an' runnin'," colt grunted. these were words spoken by many a man in the gang but rarely a woman, and so now it had become a sort of law. being slow and lumpy weighed you down; being laid up with grubs promised death when your enemies found where the whole group had been forced to squat.
not a good business.
not a good business for the women, neither.
colt held his ground.

she did not compute.

aww, c'hhon tarshnout. the slightest tang of desperation in her drawl. why the fuck was he cuntblocking her now?? you think aa' gonna get knocked u - knocked aa- aaah- grimace. gregnant.

gun laughed, and attempted to brush her shoulder against him, not quite reaching his raggedy withers. c'hon helh a lady out.

colt snorted a bit, backing away. "gun. fuck off a minute." the words were hard but his voice wasn't. one could even say it was a bit understanding, knowing how women in this season needed a man or they went a little stupid.
gun wasn't stupid, just rightly addled for a bit. "yeah, i do. then i think yer gonna stay pregnant — they all do — an' we're gonna be the one coverin' all yer hides."
briggs was frustrated by the response of his body, growing more irritable by the minute.

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: overtly disgusting description of abortion

gun wasn't stupid.

gun was.

it took her brain a prolonged moment to compute why this man now thought his dick so mighty that it could--

ah.

so, that wasn't piss sliding down her leg for the past minute.

oh... hhell, that'sh okey! the bitch grinned, remembering a simple solution to this problem. i'll jusht get rid ohh it!

her tail wagged as she began to explain, in awe of her own ability to recall previous events and learn(?) from them;

thish hahhened lasht year too, thish, hhig, shtuhidash shlut- she spat off to the side. got 'ee hregnant! can you helieve? the grin was back. sho i jusht, did a hhit o' rolling, hhit o' juhhing, lotsh ohh thish, she turned to a side view to show tarsnout how she sucked in her belly, operating on the assumption that he was still present to listen to the tale of her DIY abortion and wasn't, say, attempting to hang himself with his own whiskers.

and then- no hhore hregnanshee!

understanding that he, as a man, might be sensitive to it, gun skipped the mention of the four or so pale turds she had to dislodge from her gut, and then get rid of. #empath #humble #tradcath #prayeremoji

LOVE THE ART

whatever godblamed explanation colt had expected, it wasn't this. the longer gun spoke, the more unblinking and closed briggs became, until,

he almost stopped responding physically at all, the slight heave of his sides the only sign he had not been turned into an ugly ass pillar of salt at hearing gun's devoted sin.
at length, anyone's guess at length, colt drew a long breath and blew it out his nostrils in the manner of a mangy dragon disturbed from his hoard of filthy bottlecaps.
her scent sunk into his brain, tried to pull the eyes from their sockets, crept down his throat —
"gun, if yew get pregnant yer out th'gang."
fair? course not. but gun ran in his group, on the ground that was rapidly starting to feel like his. he'd forbidden it for sadey. he forbid it now, forsaking his own wants in a semi-sort of selfishness based around their collective, though it would never be called altruism.

the grin melted off her face like an eighties special effect.

i- !! gun'd look like she was snarling if her muzzle weren't fucked up - half of it permanently bared, the other draped over.

you- !! but, she couldn't say it. protests weren't formed enough to find her mouth. no room for indignation on the raging highway of reason.

and what was reasonable to gun? well, the things she knew, first of all, and she knew colt "tarsnout" briggs was as clever as a human. he didn't look like much - in a way she found catcall-worthy - but he'd proven himself smart, and real, and feistier than a cornered cat. he was her kind of boss the way the big grey daddy-o of mereo never could've been. the fact she'd managed to cop a feel, well, it played no small part in her fondness.

so, when tarsnout says no hanky panky until further notice, best gun can do is fold her arms and pout like a bratty child.

she turned with a harumph, head and tail raised, not bothering with even a fine, intending to walk away into the shrubbery - opposite way of the isle, unintentionally.

<333

to her credit, gun listened. she was visibly upset, surprised even, and colt was sure she'd need another reminder. but for now, he breathed in a sigh of her appealing go-behind air and rolled his shoulders.
when this was all over, briggs intended to wrassle her again, already warming through by the memories of their romp. in this moment there was victory, sweet: to have his place as leadership unquestionable even in her weakness.
colt followed a moment later, and for the remainder of the week, gun would find herself shadowed, guarded, even if briggs wasn't overt about it.