Stavanger Bay i thought i lost you, my brother

AW, but tagging @Doe in case she was still interested in a thug4hire!

murgash drew a long groan, the noise loudly and obscenely expelled from his body as he slid back and forth under the crooked hand of a gnarled bough. his fur came off in tufts, as did some scaly skin -- as he worked his body back and forth under the twisted bark the fur from his efforts littered his feet not unlike a disgusting pile of shed skin.

he was itchy -- so itchy -- his back crawled and his skin screamed to be raked.

a wild shake seized his body as the bark scaled across a festering sore left by the bite of a flea. the coarseness of the tree had hit the spot  he had needed scratched for ages, and he stopped as if amidst the throes of a prurient orgrasm. "ooOooauuugh!" he exclaimed, his gums twisted back in a delighted, somewhat offputting smile of creepy pleasure.

It was the noise that drew her, though she remained for the show. The stranger, though he smelled of the sea and of her brother, was not someone that she recognized. On a different day, she might've written that off as her own faulty memory, but she'd been very good about remembering things, lately. Like how she'd gotten Quill, and what had happened to Sharkbait (though she still did not recognize the girl as the same golden plop that Skellige had thrown into the ocean blue). This wolf was not one she knew.

"You're rather ill," she called out, somewhat pitying and somewhat amused. Despite this, she still kept her distance from the male, unsure how he'd come to be in her family's bay. Her eyes were drawn again to the matted fur that now littered the ground around them - Atoll found herself disbelieving in the legitimacy of the male's business, here. "What are you doing?" she asked, belatedly. And rather unclearly - she'd meant to inquire about his business here, and not his business in general.

he groaned again in ecstasy as the calloused edge of the bough ran over his inflamed hide, causing his hind leg to lift in a trigger-like reflex of pleasure. out of the corner of his eye the beast saw a figure approach; abruptly he closed his slack jaws and turned a clouded eye over her.

like the other coywolf he had the pleasure of meeting (but sadly, not wooing) this one was svelte -- murgash was instantly compelled to impress her. then again, he was a hustler -- he was always one to be boastful and virile around the female folk.

she said he was sick; he disagreed and the sentiment reflected coldly in his opaque gaze. "wot?" he barked, the incredulity in his tone. "oi'm not sick - oi'm manful." he extracted himself from the tangle of leaves and branches, pulling himself alongside doe and looking over her with ruthless vivication. he decided right then and there his newfound task was to pursue her -- to charm the everloving shit out of her so that he could finally get what every man deserved and demanded. "'ave yew nevor seen wot a real man louks loike before? well, feast yer oieyes on this." he pounced with a flourish, exposing his flank and 'manly' body for her to take in. like all men, he expected she would be absolutely smitten by his muscles and brawn -- then he'd sweep her off to his lair, right?

Though dark coloration had led her toward believing that Skellige was a strange incarnation of her forgotten father-figure, Murgash's diminished coat did nothing of the sort. She did wonder, dimly, how he'd come to be so ugly, but thought nothing more of his appearance until he flaunted it upon her.

At his command, she turned her attention distractedly toward his massive frame. He did seem to be built rather splendidly, but any attraction she might've felt toward him - even with the complusion of her heat to contend with - was wiped away completely by the unhealthy look of the man.

"If you roll in the wet, gritty sand near the shore, the salt water will help take the bite from the itch," she offered, choosing not to argue with the bigger male. He did not seem to be dangerous, no matter how ugly he was. In fact, she rather appreciated his preening - though she did not plan to let him pursue her to the natural conclusion of such hunts, she did appreciate the attention. Thus, she felt obliged to be friendly toward the creature, and to offer him better ways to force his ailments into abeyance.

he had presented her with his frame in its entire, and she had not been repelled by it. murgash felt a swell of confidence in his heart, and a wide grin cracked his sloppy jaws in delight. unlike the other coywolf he had met who had simply felt sorry for him, this one seemed to offer a solution. murgash had never found his appearance to be a problem, but many objected to it for whatever reason murgash could not possibly fathom.

she mentioned the shore and murgash's chopped ears pressed forward in interest. a vision of her, wet and sopping with every part of her body revealed, flashed across his mind and he was instantly aroused with energy. "det does sound noice.. oi'd like a swim, acktually." he admitted, though he was not going along with her suggestion to make his bite feel better..

"can yew show me de way, dear?" he canted his gruesomely flecked muzzle to the side, an impish light in his gaze. he knew exactly where the shore was, but being new he might be able to con her into walking in front of him so he could inspect her backside as she walked away.

His friendliness had won Atoll's good humor, but not quite her trust or cooperation. His request to be led, too, put the beta on-edge, and she wondered again where the beast had come from, and whether he was truly supposed to be in these lands.

"Come now," she said in a soclicitous croon, still faintly amused by the man, "who let you in here, you great porcupine? If you're trespassing here, you can kiss your body goodbye."

The words were spoken lightly, as a quip, but Atoll meant to visit violence upon him if he truly did not belong. It was an errant thought, however - she trusted Skellige's scent to ward off roving males, and if this one was so deep in the territory with Skellige's scent on his ragged fur - well, she didn't expect he'd been still in one piece, if his presence had not been approved.

This in mind, she gestured with her muzzle toward the ocean, waiting for the male to fall into step beside her rather than fall out of her line of sight.

doe obliged, much to murgash's utter and deceitful delight. he guffawed to himself and quickly silenced the giggle, trying his best to remain composed. unfortunately, the grin betrayed his delectation, and stiffly he tried to rearrange is features in a solemn expression that at best made him look like a stroke victim.

she, or rather, her hips, did not disappoint and his eyes fell hungrily on her moving limbs as she strolled away. he fell in line behind her, wholly enjoying the sight.

doe's query and subsequent thinly-veiled threat was met with jovial lasciviousness. he stopped abruptly, taking great care to deliberately scan his body. his delectable, fem-magnet body. "oi'd rather somethin' else gets kisses." he quipped inappropriately in return, the roguish grin re-emerging. as far as who had let him in.. he paused again, thinking. they had never exchanged names. "big soilent fello, and 'is bruther, skinnee bloke. skinne one wos bats in the belfry toiype." he assumed that would be enough information for her and started to trot after her. "'ey, wait a minut -- wot's yer naem?"

If she had not been so intent on listening, she might've actually heard the innuendo he threw out. As it was, Atoll focused more on his description of her packmates, and took a long moment to place his words to Skellige and Szymon in turn. Sufficiently convinced that he was not an intruder, the beta continued to lead him toward the waters, no longer quite watching what he was doing. 

"I am Atoll," she said in response to his question. "The beta." And it truly was a the - for as of yet, there was no other. "What's your name?"

His flirtations were not entirely lost on her, but the woman was unsure how she was meant to respond. It pleased her to be admired, but a quiet discomfort rose in her chest when she thought of acknowledging this. Her heart belonged to Szymon, after all, and the rest of her to the king.

if murgash had been made aware of doe's inner dialogue, he would have teased and pulled to the point of contention: it was not her heart he was after, nor her everlasting -- it was her body, her warmth. he was not a man that sought the family life, nor a wolf suited for it -- he sought cheap tricks and thrills and wished for doe to be every part of it.

he was nearly astride her now, so he slowed his pace. soon they would be at the ocean, and his insides quivered at the prospect of seeing her svelte and soused by the brine. the idiotic grin returned.

"murgash is de naem." he introduced himself with a certain flair; it was a comedic thing indeed, for half-bald, porcupine murgash lacked the elegance in which to back it. "woter de naems of the big boss and 'is fluffed-up bruther? and wot and where is de fud i wos promised?" he would settle for niceties for now; after pleasantries were exchanged maybe, just possibly, things could go the way he preferred.

If Atoll had been able to hear Murgash's thoughts, she would not have changed her behavior very much. Though not entirely without sentiment, the traditions of her pack had called mainly for duty, not love - unless it was the sort of love that was bourne out of duty, and that, Atoll was very familiar with.

However, her ignorance allowed her to keep her image of Murgash pleasant and child-friendly. She was discomforted, yes, but she could find no fault in him. Thus, she dipped her head agreeably at his name, and proceeded to reel of two of her own. "Skellige is the alpha, here, and his brother is Szymon - but there are more." Szymon had said as much during their late-night talks, though she had not been able to stay awake long enough to hear the full story behind all of his family.

Though she'd not mentioned food at all, the sight of his barren ribs made the topic relevant enough for her to respond without question. "The caches are almost always stocked," she replied with pride - for her love had filled many of them, and herself a fair few. "But first, come into the water - scratch your back and let me look. Maybe I can help."

nothing delighted murgash so much as hearing 'full wares' ahead; the caches were always stocked. he could have shouted from the peaks of the world with joy, but he didn't; he kept his mouth shut and kept his composure about him. after all, he was in front of a lady.

a lady, who thus far had believed him word for word -- which was not a bad thing.

she mentioned the water, and murgash obliged; he slid into the reciprocating waves and sucked his breath inward with the cold. for a moment he let the brine seep around his pelt, and sunk into the shallows. "oi wos also promised a woman." he said solemnly, bringing his attention to the atoll completely. his expression was sincere; so sincere he was doubtful the atoll would see through his guile.

The man needn't have put much effort into his lie; Atoll was not paying very much attention to his words. Her eyes and nose were focused on her back, leaving just her ears to log communication. She could detect no hint of deceit in his strange, accented voice - and, honestly, she did not look for it. Such traditions were the cornerstones of her home pack. To give and be given in marriage was simply a way of life, and Atoll, accustomed to these things, merely wondered what woman he'd been promised. Fluer, Leokadia, or even sweet Lagertha?

A tiny frown made its way onto her face as the last option came to her. Murgash seemed a sturdy fellow, but his ill health would surely be as displeasing to the kind woman as it was to Atoll herself! This did not sit well at all with the Blackrock beta, and she sought to rectify it at once. Perhaps there would be hope yet for a happy pairing.

"Then let us annoint you," she suggested, nudging him deeper into the water. "Scratch - it will help. When the itch is relieved, perhaps you could find something for me - I will, of course, have a fresh meal ready when you get back."

She had some dried marigolds for him to scent, but they needed to be fresh in order to do him any good. If he went out and found them for her, she could get started on making a proper poltice to spread over his mangy back. Hopefully, it was just mange, and not something she could not cure. Honey, of course, would do wonders either way, but she was at loathe to waste the precious golden syrup that she and Lagertha had taken such pains to acquire. Of course, Laggy might be more inclined to forgive her if she knew that it would be used to make her future husband more presentable.

he watched the atoll out of the corner of his eye, suspecting she might be able to see through his lie. unfortunately, his mistruth was her folly; she took him at his word and went with it.

rarely had deception ever played so favourably in murgash's hand -- especially not in such a way that promised the glimmering prospect of delectable food and getting laid. in a searing second, murgash was made entirely pliable; just like any male, he would do just about anything if it meant getting inside the fairer sex.

he waded deeper, feeling the saltwater as it rushed over his frame and evinced a wince from his chest; it was cold. so cold, he wasn't itchy anymore. as far as finding something for her, well, he hoped she would find something of his -- an idiotic grin besotted his ugly features as he watched her trail in the water. "s'not itchy anymore! tell me wot it is ye wont." he was unaware she was scheming to pair him with another; as far as he was concerned, the atoll was his prospective meal tonight.

Slight pp to get them to her den. Let me know if I need to change it!

She followed him into the water, eyes still raking over his sodden form. Her gaze, though, was cold and clinical as it memorized the ugly marring of his skin. She had no desire for this male, and she doubted that any of the other females in her pack would, either. It would have to be remedied - for if Skellige had promised this man a woman, he must be someone to be respected, and it would not do to have his bride detesting his very apperance. (She had nothing to say about his personality; she found him discomforting, but wholly agreeable.)

"Follow me. I have some for you to scent," she said with a put-upon sigh; for there was much to do, and perhaps not very much time in which to do it. Mange this bad could take months to heal, but perhaps she could free him of the worst of it before he was given his woman. Would he get to pick, she wondered?

At her den, she ducked inside and took a deep gulp of Szymon-and-Quill scented air, steadying herself with the familiar smell of her little family. The fawnskin rug felt soft under her weathered paws, and she took a moment to lean down and brush her nose against it before turning to her stores. She had plenty of marigolds stored up, but only dried - to be soaked in water and drunk as an infusion. Only fresh marigolds would be of any use to the foreign nobility that'd entered the depths.

Marigolds cradled gently in jaw, she backed out of the narrow opening and let the sun-colored blooms fall to the sand. "A lot of these. Fresh ones," said Atoll, her voice clipped and commanding as she surveyed the male once more. A huffy sigh and tiny nod were the only outward indications of her approval. He might be a handsome fellow with a bit of cleaning up.

Maybe.

of course! slight PPs are always welcome on my chars :)

he was happy to follow doe, if only to see the eventual end of his lie: she had not caught on yet, and murgash nearly tittered as he considered all the possibilities. food, women (and the sexytime they entailed), and flowers -- wait, flowers?

flowers. she wanted him to roll in fucking flowers.

murgash recoiled, and visibly -- he focused his one clear eye on the girl and gave her the most ruthless, hairy stinkeye he could muster. his objection was obvious as the mange on his back. "wot!" he practically roared, savoring the resounding bellow as it echoed down the cavern. "you tryin' to make ol' murgash a fruit? a fairy?!" he huffed and puffed and swung around -- homie don't play that! he stomped his paw to articulate his opposition to such a task: "oi'm not smelling loike some fuckin' pansy, olright mate?"

Only the visible bristle of Atoll's back gave away her displeasure at being both startled and defied. Her expression - after a brief pop of her eyes - remained docile and solicitous as two options came readily to her mind. She could

a. Pull on her mantle of Atoll, who surely had reign over even this noble creature or
b. Hope that her feminine wiles could subdue his ill temper

In the end, he was a bit too big for her to try and pull rank just yet. A yet unknown quantity, she was reluctant to test him without the proper support. Thus, she fell back on what she knew, widening her eyes until they resembled those of the animal she'd been named for.

"I didn't mean to insult you," she said with faux hesitation, coming around his side and blinking guilessly up at the larger creature. "I just thought... wouldn't you like to restore the natural lustor of your pelt? I would prepare a salve to... to rub on your skin, to relieve the itching and help grow back your coat. It's getting awfully close to winter, you know."

A lifetime of gaining favor from Riverbone in this way lent her the experience needed to cajole less tempermental males into submission - only trial would tell if it would work on such wolves as Murgash.

murgash expected backlash; even his eyes told it. what he had not expected was a mollified ally, a soft, honey-eyed companion that slid right up to him and spoke in the most tempting, innocent manner.

murgash's objection turned to liquid, and trickled from his frame.

he had no hope of defying doe then, not with the cajoling manner in which she addressed him. even the way she said rub caused his front limbs to quiver in excitement; he breathlessly looked over her and that was it -- his will against her was lost.

she had him hooked, and hardly had to do anything for it.

"rub, ye say?" his eyebrow arched; the suggestion was taken even further than she had meant for it to be and already he felt a twang of excitement stir in him. he stalled, looking for some outlet so he would not appear to be too eager in acquiescing her demands; after all he was a man and men were never commanded. unless they were weak -- or pansies. he paused, jutting his jaw out in a feigned expression of consideration still: "foine, oi'll do it -- where does one find dem poseys at?"

It was with a strong effort that Atoll did not grimace as he repeated part of her promise back to her. Rubbing would be necessary, whether she liked it or not, so she gave a few short, emphatic nods. Hopefully, that would be enough to appease him -

And it seemed that it would be, as he then asked where to find the golden blooms. This, Atoll answered aloud.

"There's a long stretch of bare, green land just northeast of here," she said, gaze worshipful as she revealed this new information. "I'm afraid to go that far from the bay, but I thought that maybe someone bigger and stronger than me could do it. Can you find them for me? Please?"

It was not even really a lie; she did not fear for her safety, but did worry about losing herself away from the firm and demanding call of the sea. Murgash, hopefully, would not have the same problems, and if he did -

Well, the sea would decide these things, in the end. Atoll did not wish to send him away permenantly, and only hoped that the way back would be as simple as the way forward.

she already had him wrapped around her dewclaw, but when she mentioned how she needed a man to do such duties murgash fell right into the snakepit, puffing his chest mightily and giving her his best knowing nod of approval. it was important the women not overtax themselves, they could get hurt -- it was best to leave the heavy-duty lifting to males, built for the purpose.

"oi'll do it, m'lady." he said with an exaggerated flourish that nearly made him stumble in process. he still wasn't thrilled to be adorned in flowers, but if it meant he got the lady's approval it had to be done.

with that, unless doe had any other instructions, mangy murgash was out -- he picked up a quick trot in the direction she mentioned, though he slowed once she was out of sight in favor of a leisurely stroll.

The Atoll's eyes were narrowed as she watched the rangy male bound away. Her discomfort had only grown since her first interactions with him, and she worried after the consequences of such fickle nobility in their ranks. Perhaps she'd been wrong to lead him on, but the smaller woman knew of no other way to have power over one larger than herself. Sometimes, she doubted she was fit for the rank that she held, but those thoughts were always quickly quashed.

I am Atoll. Skellige has made it so. Let them challenge me.

Bold thoughts, for one so small - but as far as she knew, she had always been this way.