Silver Creek yea, though i walk through the valley of the shadow of death
Private  November 10, 2018, 02:39 AM
Lone Wolves

there was something of the resurrection in new beginnings. though not dead before, the chance to start over was a chance at another life, and was that not resurrection, on its face? addison knows that she will only die once, but with each step into this universe so far removed from everything she has ever known, she breathes new existence into her lungs, her soul. the air is crisp and light with the autumn odor all around--dying things: grass, leaves, trees. even more striking, then, that addison should live while all around her perishes. the odolfs are chosen; they come not as voyagers but as conquerors, to claim a stake in the land their father had once called home. 

she should be at peace, and yet, she frets. soon, she will have lived two years, and her womb is still empty. she has failed the world, failed her family. . .failed the very foundation of nature, to remain childless. there is a restlessness to this rebirth of hers, a knowledge that should she not whelp in the spring, she may as well be a rotting young plant -- withering away, no legacy to speak of. she is not growing any younger; time does not run in reverse. for every season she is barren, she grows more and more useless. 

no, addison will not stand to be useless. the odolf witch will take the seed from its source and carry it to term. life will bloom within her, grow strong and healthy, and she will provide the world with sons. her purpose thus fulfilled, she will either die. . .or live to see another cycle, to feel her heat overtake her, to let a man spill himself within her and then, several moons later, she will bear fruit once more. on and on it will go, until god takes her from the earth. but until it happens, she will not be satisfied. 

the woman dips her head to lap at the creek, her polar eyes moving slowly, taking in the new atmosphere. thirst thus slaked, she licks the droplets from her chops, salmon-pink tongue lingering over her lips as she stands, deep in contemplation. the woods are alive with sound, but all she can hear is the squalling of infants, still slick with birth-fluids, scrabbling hungrily for the choice teat.

addison feels a twinge in her groin as she imagines them latching on, falling into contented silence as they drink their fill. 

oh! if only!
November 10, 2018, 10:27 AM
Lone Wolves

iliksis would have been glad to plunge his seed into addison, but not for the same maternal reasons. as she was bent over the silver ripple of the creek, iliksis was watching her -- hungrily, at that.

for a long time the man had controlled the beastly rhythm in his chest, and ignored the insiduous tendrils of compulsive violence that lingered in his minds-eye. seeing addison, frame bent downwards while the raw shock of a pink tongue danced along her thin lips -- iliksis felt something reptilian in him lurch.

he had been too careless before; giving into his own brutality whenever the whims corrupted him. several times now it had nearly cost him his life - he had learned.. but he had not changed.

she would catch him staring if he drank in the fine gossamer mocha of her fur too long, or studied that snowbound snip on her muzzle too closely. iliksis moved noisily then, stalking down the rocky embankment so he too could draft from the stream's icy waters, and possibly make it look as if it were chance's design that brought them together --

instead of him stalking her.

warning: PG-18+ explicit content.
November 10, 2018, 12:46 PM
Lone Wolves

on-edge as she is in this new world, addison does not fail to notice the rustling--nay, more like stampeding--of a stranger, come to drink at the creek. her eyes linger on him for only a short moment before she looks away, remembering her place. she dips her head to take another sip, wondering if he will notice the delicate curve of her neck, her young supple body, stretching, reaching. . .

addison is not immune to the charm she has over men. it is less a power than an intriguing feature, for do they not consume women, in the end? no, it is something driven deep into the female flesh by time immemorial, by nature. not a power, but a means to an end. she wonders how she smells to him. he smells like. . .

musk. and danger. she knows that to let him take her maidenhead--should it come to that--is a risky proposition. perhaps, should he follow, he will be invited into the odolf fold. even if so, he may not be her chosen mate. grayson will select one for her, just as aaron had done for the women before. he may not measure up.

but--well. he is not typically handsome, from the quick assessment she'd made of him. long and bony, more like a cat than a canine. and again, that danger. . . something within the eyes, behind the veneer of civility.

she is intrigued, and gives him a brief nod--gaze averted--but must let him make the first move.
November 10, 2018, 01:08 PM
Lone Wolves

his tongue lapped at the brisk current, but his eyes -- they rested upon the svelte she-wolf, pointedly seeking her gaze as his tongue, vulgar and quick, danced across the surface of the water. she had looked away from him when she had seen him -- coquettishly, iliksis might have added. he finished his drink, his long tongue extracted back between a cage of whittled, pine-white teeth.

iliksis was only hours into being inducted to grayson's fold. during their conversation grayson had hinted to a band of wolves following him and iliksis wondered if this was one of the women -- nay, future wives -- in grayson's flock. certainly there was an allure to this finely built she-wolf, who possessed a body supple and enticing. what aroused that reptilian hunger the most in iliksis was the brevity of those arctic eyes - wintry, icy eyes which seemed to penetrate with an intensity that left iliksis raw with carnality.

he moved up the bank, holding her in his sullen gaze as he did so. her nod had been invitation enough for him to ford the distance and press his company upon her. grayson had said enough for the male to draw between the lines the true hierarchy women in his coven occupied, but iliksis had to confirm this for himself.

breathless, and feeling very keenly something rotten raise its head in him, iliksis drew his nose along addison's nape, fully prepared for the swing of fangs in his face.

warning: PG-18+ explicit content.
November 10, 2018, 01:25 PM
Lone Wolves

he approaches, his movements also feline, that empty golden stare piercing her flesh like a lance. oh. . .there is something about him, yes. she cannot place it. but the abstract subsides when she catches a familiar odor layering his pelt; this man is now rooted in reality. there is a reason for his presence--he is not just a demon, from the pits of hell, here to torture her.

or else he is, and grayson has been consorting with evil.

i smell my brother on you, addison murmurs softly, still looking down. a shudder runs over her fine, silken pelt as he touches her neck, her tail instinctually moving slightly to one side. with other women, she is fierce, a forced to be reckoned with, ruler of their fates. men, though. . .she is at their service. what can she possibly do or say to him to stop this?

if grayson finds this undesirable, she will take the punishment. but she has a feeling that her brothers would be much angrier with her did she fight now, rather than giving herself to the man, as she has been taught to do since birth.

have you joined our family group? she asks in a crooning voice, her muscles drawing stiff, taut--then relaxing again. stiff, then relaxed. perhaps he can scent the faint tang of fear underneath her natural aroma. perhaps he likes it.
November 12, 2018, 11:15 AM
Lone Wolves

the slender she-wolf moved under the rake of the man's nose, the cold climb of a shiver rippling through her body. iliksis withdrew. he scented many on her pelt - one familiar, the rest foreign.

the roaring of his impulsive lust subsided as she spoke, though he was aware of it simmering along the fringes as if just out of his periphery. he had not missed the cant of her tail, nor was he oblivious to the slender sway of her hips -- hungrily, the beast steeled his gaze and looked casually down the riverbank.

"i have." he answered over the crooning of her soft voice. her muscles seemed to move from tense to supple, tense to supple -- his gaze flickered upwards, climbing with the lustful authority of a rapine monster. no - he could not act so soon.

he would have to wait.

"what is your name?"

warning: PG-18+ explicit content.
November 13, 2018, 12:35 PM
Lone Wolves

she feels something--disappointment?--as he stops his touching. funny, how the knot in her stomach could be either interpreted as fear or arousal. maybe both come together, in tandem. she has felt it before, thinking about the promise of her body and the mystery of others' flesh. but it has not been so strong until this moment, and it lingers even when their brief contact ceases.

addison odolf, sir, she responds dutifully, bending her head further. welcome to our group. i hope that everything has been to your satisfaction thus far. like a hotel concierge, or a fucking waitress. no mind of her own (or so they thought) just an empty head and a hole for a cock. some days, she took great pleasure in being an object, an ornament; other times, she loathed it.

but wouldn't he touch her again? addison holds her breath, hoping.
November 17, 2018, 01:20 PM
Lone Wolves

there is a flash of something in her damascene gaze -- perhaps disappointment? -- as iliksis pulls away. he studied her solemnly a moment, imagining already what he could do to her. what he would do to her.

it was too soon for him to act, but not too soon for him to think of her; face down as he fucked her, crying - he hoped - the dirt gumming her face and cheeks and the fear so heavy around him it might as well be the same raunchy scent of sex --

he was drifting: time to come back.

she had mentioned her last name - the same as grayson's - his mind leapt to the assumption perhaps she was his mate. not that it mattered to iliksis, who gave little consideration to the customs (or feelings) of others. mate or not, she would still be easy and enjoyable to violate. although... as he glanced up her supple form a nagging question rude and abrupt and vile formed in his mind (you a virgin?).

"iliksis." and then, because he couldn't help it (and maybe because he wanted to see her look at him fearfully, to see her put the pieces together that maybe he wasn't a nice man -- his gaze climbed her body potently, hungrily, and then he answered: "it has been to my satisfaction so far."

warning: PG-18+ explicit content.