Sunset Valley love makes hunters of us all [m]
oh, everything is gorgeous once it's gone
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for @Derg but aw
he sort of remembers this place. except... not really. the valley is vaguely familiar, just enough to drive him a little crazy as he wanders — just enough to remind him of absynthe, of everything he's lost. just enough to make him remember the feeling. he stares blankly into the tiny creek he'd found, wondering briefly if he could drown himself in so little water. what would it feel like to drown, he wonders; surely that old man knows. the one he hardly remembers killing, the one he sort of regrets not fucking first. it's been so long since anyone touched him. it will be longer yet, because what soul would subject themselves to such torment?
maybe he's better off drowned in a shallow creek.
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The man was hu ting, his eyes searching keenly for the bird that had called. It was chilly still, snow still lay the ground. It had been thrown up in great drifts that Keen had hidden that fucking skull she'd named Stanley in. For all they knew, it could be some malefactor and she was playing with its skull.
So he'd taken himself out to hunt, hoping she wasn't following him with Stanley because he couldn't bear looking into those empty sockets that he was certain had ghosts in.
As long as it made her happy, he'd leave it.
Until he couldn't stand it.

Apart from finding the mysterious bird, he found a wolf. He approached with caution, his tail waving softly in greeting. Wondering why he was staring so intently at the water.

​​140 words
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the other wolf's approach slips by him at first, failing to draw his attention until the footsteps are close. too close. "looking for something?" he asks as he looks up, voice rough with disuse. a man, rather plain save his large size. perhaps a distraction. he draws his tongue across his muzzle, mouth dry, and studies the other with tired, hungry eyes as he waits for a response.
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"Hunting." Came his simple reply. He studied the other, taking in his appearance. Lanky and trampy. He sounded like him once. Before that she-wolf had unlocked that block in him. He must find her again one day. 

"What about you?" He asked, lowering his head to the trickle of water to sip from it. Keeping half an eye on the strange man. His eyes weren't very welcoming to the cautious man. They spoke of things that Derg would rather not like to think about. Did Keen's skull once hold eyes like these? Speaking with words too odious to be spoken in public. It made him recoil inside to think he once lived with such characters.
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the stranger's response draws a brief, quiet chuckle from him. we're all hunting something, he thinks, gaze drifting down the other's figure as the man drinks. "hunting what?" he asks, ignoring his returned question. he expects a simple answer, boring, perhaps too literal — not so dissimilar from his initial assessment of the grey wolf before him. but he asks the question nonetheless, perhaps in vain hope of finally furthering his own hunt. he still hasn't figured out what it is he's hunting for.
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He lifted his head, the ghostly smirk on his lips. Curious one, eh? He regarded the man, giving him another assessment. Was he looking to help and get a share? He wouldn't be opposed to the idea, he supposed. 

"Birds. If you have a better idea, please, share." He held himself high, his tail raised and posture formal. He wasn't too expectant of the stranger, yet he was often surprised. Perhaps he'd make a recruitment too. Though, he wasn't sure if he'd want a wolf that seemed...to make that coil of dread tighten within him in his pack. Near Keen. That's what kept him tight, curt. Keeping his cards close was how he often dealt with those he was wary of.
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he more or less receives what he'd expected, but he isn't disappointed. a smile tugs at his own expression when the man beckons him to share his own thoughts, and he hesitates, pretending to give it some thought. "i might," he says, reclining with a single toss of his tail. "though i suspect you and i have very different interests." his statement is pointed, heavy with suggestion, and he feels a sudden surge within his veins — an urge to seize the stranger, to push him into the creek and see for himself whether one can be drowned in such shallow water. but he resists, instead opting to see how far he can take this game before the man realizes his intentions.
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Derg raised his brows, letting the grin become coy. He knew the game that was being played. He could play it just back; he could feel his heart start that thunderous storm, tapping into the beat of a warrior.
His fur prickled along his nape, his eyes sparkling with a hint of hunger. Bloodlust.

"Of course. You may have interests in plants or something." He shrugged vaguely. Casting his gaze aside momentarily. Indeed, he wanted to hunt. The fuel this repulsive creature gave him would perhaps give him the urge to hunt something bigger. He turned his gaze back to the man, a hint of a challenge held in it.
​110 words
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his own heart picks up at the coyness in the man's expression, and he wonders if perhaps he isn't so oblivious after all. his skin prickles with a sudden ache for touch, and it takes considerable effort to still himself. the stranger's comment draws another chuckle from him, this time slightly strained. he stretches out slowly, urged on by the other's expression, and reaches deliberately for one of the man's forelegs with little regard for consequences. there is a tension to his movements, an air about him that almost seems to beg the other for a harsh response — but, should his touch be allowed, he only delivers a brief nip; hardly enough to sting. his heart races at his own vulnerable position, at the anticipation of teeth in his flesh, but he makes no move to evade whatever the male may do.
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Derg stiffened, watching with a hawkish gaze as the man reached forward. He rumbled low, watching him open his jaws open to nip at his leg. The air had thickened, held hot by his own feelings. He let himself a shallow breath, teeth making contact with his leg. No pain sang through him. He ached for it.

His throat seemed to close up, but still, he urged the words out: it seemed his hunt had changed target. "Come on now, I'm not dangerous."  He lied blatantly. His whole demeanor said so. His legs stiff, tail high and curled. His gaze stared at the man. He rumbled low again, unsure of what he was feeling. He let out a harsher breath, trying to restrain himself from diving down onto the male. Wanting to lock he jaws into his scruff, pressing himself to his body -- he blinked once. The thought had startled him. He'd never thought like that towards a man. His lips writhed up in a silent snarl before making a lunge, opening his maw to clasp the scruff of the detestable man.
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the low rumble sends a shiver down his spine, heat spreading through his body as he takes in the stranger's posture, the dangerous glitter in his gaze. he realizes immediately that he is no longer in control of their game, and the thought sends a thrill through him. the role of predator suits him, he thinks, but it has been far too long since he has allowed himself to submit. a shame, really; he's always enjoyed the risk. he offers only a smirk to the man's words, though he wouldn't have had time to respond anyway. in the next moment, he feels contact; teeth in his scruff, weight against him. his breath quickens and he gasps slightly, twisting in a token show of resistance but knowing he has no real chance at escape; the stranger has the advantage of size and weight — and a willing victim. so he takes the opportunity to press more of himself to the man, shifting in an attempt to press his hips into the curve of his waist and snapping at whatever he can reach.
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I myself is wondering what Derg is doing

He feels resistance, a futile attempt. He felt teeth rake through the fur on his chest as he moved around to press against the body of the other. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the other. Musky, earthy. His forelimbs grappled to hold the brown man. Teeth biting down harder, locking into a seemingly unbreakable hold. 

He grunted, crushing any hopes of the others escape. He held him now and wasn't quite assured about what he was about to do. He twisted himself around, lining himself up so he was behind the other. Poised as if he were about to mount a female. 
He rumbled into the scruff of the man, a sound that would make his chest vibrate against his back.

Derg pushed himself forward, his hips meeting the strangers. He was consumed by the fire that held him, made him press himself to this man. He retracted slowly yet not fully before again thrusting his hips forward.
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the air feels thick and hot in his lungs as he pants under the man, locked in place and trembling slightly under his weight. his attempts at snapping die off as the stranger positions himself above him with another rumble, hips flush against his backside. anticipation races through his veins, impatience forcing a harsh breath through his nose as his tail sweeps aside to allow him access. but even as the man withdraws and comes forward with another thrust, no true contact is made; almost as if he... doesn't know what he's doing. just his luck. he bites back a frustrated whine, arching and shifting to help the other find his mark; it wouldn't be the first time he's been another man's first, nor the last, he's certain.
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His tail flicked with soft irritation. He couldn't find his mark because he had to aim just that bit higher. If he wasn't so caught up in the act -- and had sufficient air in his lungs -- he'd probably grumble and mutter in his old man fashion.
He just hoped Keen wouldn't happen across them.

After a small amount of readjusting, he found his mark. Pressing himself into the other, feeling warmth wrap around himself. He gritted his teeth and started again, this time with a stronger push in, his gut tightening slightly. Warmth spreading between his legs. It only drove him onward yet without the same force as one might expect; like he cared a little for the submissive wolf beneath him, but clearly not a lot for his thrusts became harder, groaning softly.
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a low, brief whine slips past his lips when contact is finally made, and he closes his eyes, relaxing into the embrace now. another time, he might feel inclined to continue their game, to keep up his facade of resistance — but right now, he only craves to be touched. he savors the feeling of the man's forelegs gripping him, his warmth against his back, the hint of restraint behind each thrust; the feeling of being wanted. the change in intensity draws soft sounds of pleasure from him, and he grows more pliant by the moment. "tell me your name," he gasps in his mother tongue, not realizing in the heat of the moment that the man will not understand him. it matters little; he hardly has the presence of mind to realize he's said anything.
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His ears twitches, the man's words lost in the lack of translation. It didn't do anything to slow Derg, he was too consumed by the feeling now. His forelimbs gripped the man tighter, pressing himself closer to his body. 
He renewed his grasp on the man's neck, pressing himself that bit more onto him. It wasn't like he was fighting back now, so why would he stop?

At last, he found his pleasure, his legs quivering with the release.
He stayed above the other for a few moments, licking the place he'd bitten, before dismounting. Smoothly sliding from him, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. Quietly, he moved to the front of the man again, his gaze tracing the other. He should end him know, ensure no one heard of this. 
He wouldn't.
That fucking skull made him stop. He let out a breathy sigh, blinking slowly. He should leave now.
But he didn't.
162 words​
 
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the end of it leaves him gasping, weak and hazy in the aftermath of his own release. the feeling of a tongue against his scruff surprises him a little, and he finds himself sinking to the ground as the man withdraws. he takes in a slow, deep breath, watching quietly as he moves to face him again. something in his expression makes him feel colder than he already had. "do you regret it?" he asks after a moment, stomach twisting at the hint of vulnerability in his own voice. he shouldn't care, he tells himself — but he does. he's so tired of being everyone's regret — of being his own regret; is it so wrong to seek something different?
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He'd never been attracted to men. Never wanted them. Didn't want them near his girls. 
Why did it change so suddenly?
Was it his lack of control, his urge to hunt the one that attacked Keen? Maybe fucked something up in his mind. But, it felt good. To have someone to love on. He couldn't do that to Keen, he thought her too young for him. He wasn't much good for her anyway. He'd taint her.

He stared into the dark, depthless eyes of the man. Did he feel pain? Derg ground his jaw, working things out. 
He should go; he wanted to stay.
He swallowed thickly. He'd killed men for this. Killed women for this, too. He was a brute, a savage. Nothing more than the one who'd attacked Keen. 
"No." The words were out before he could bite his tongue, to hold back the truth. The truth almost always came out first with him; he wasn't a very good liar. 
He wondered if it was good he wasn't lying now.
He shouldn't give his name. 

Derg let his body move himself to press agist the stranger again, letting his nose run along his nape, rubbing his cheek across him. Inhaling his scent. 
Why was it he felt like crying?
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no. the single word releases a tension he hadn't realized was building in his chest. he swallows, opening his mouth to speak again, but the air exits his lungs swiftly when the man draws nearer again. panic bubbles within him, and he wants to warn him away. don't, he thinks, but the word sticks in his throat and instead he finds himself leaning into the touch. it's so easy to give in to the feeling, to ignore the nagging voice in his head reminding him that he can only destroy all that he touches. after a few moments, he turns his head to bury his muzzle in the man's fur with a soft sigh, vaguely sensing the emotion radiating from the other. "stay with me tonight," the words are quiet, almost a plea, a little muffled by fur. he trembles slightly, suddenly fearing rejection; what self-respecting wolf would want to spend a night with him?
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He feels the man press himself into him too, running his muzzle across his neck. He resisted the instant to turn and ward him away from such a sensitive place. 
He felt content -- happy even -- with how they stood for the few moments. Easy, loving even. He relaxed.

Stay with me tonight
The desperation, thick in the rough voice of the other. The emotion. Derg didn't know what the man was feeling. Was what he said in the foreign tongue related to those feelings?
He felt almost dread bubble up. Stiffening slightly. He ground his jaw, letting himself hide his face where the other couldn't see.
He wanted to stay, to hold him. To feel the warmth of another curled up close against him, one that he could touch without fear of casting a shadow over a bright heart.
"Where would you like to go?" Came his reply, hoping it was enough of an answer to confirm he wanted to go with him. To emphasise this, he ran his teeth through the fur of the other.
He wanted him.
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fade here & i can start us a new one? ❤
he feels the man tense against him, and his heart stumbles over itself in fear — but the rejection he expects does not come. a heavy breath slips from him and he presses closer for a moment, taking comfort in the feeling of teeth through his fur. then he pulls away slightly to speak again, giving himself no time to linger on his own conflicting feelings. "let me show you," he says, rising and brushing the other's flank as he turns to lead the way. briefly, he wonders if the warmth in his chest is a normal feeling — if he's capable of those. but then the red wolf flashes through his mind, and he swallows the thought.
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Sure thing 

Derg nodded, swallowing.
He wanted this, with him. It felt wrong, it felt right. He was happy, he was disgusted, warm, cold.
Every binary opposite conflicted and warred within him.
He ignored every single one because every time he thought of it, the good feeling came to him first.

He let his paws carry him after the man, feeling like he was out of his body, walking on a cloud, flying like an eagle. Felt like he was walking through thick sludge, sinking deeper into a depthless bog.
He pushed himself to walk by the side of the man, glad for the company and relief he offered. 
He was happy and suspected he would be for some time.
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