Haunted Wood the tracks I tread are cold
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#1
All Welcome 
her season comes swiftly, earlier than the woman had expected. it is hard to miss, and common sense would dictate she remain well out of the way—she understands the role serem plays within the pack, the dangers that may come with challenging the woman. but has she not thrived on discord, and has unrest not always served her well? she is tempted, too, the challenge the general; but knows there are others here who likely covet such a role. to challenge so quickly is to invite others to do the same. she would learn of their intents, first, all those others who have lived here long before she. but the opportunity today brings might prove a better way to cement her standing, and as she ponders further how she might use it to her benefit, the wraith moves along a populous hunting trail, pausing now and again to mark her scent and ensure it will not be missed. 
sometimes, dead is better
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Yes, Serem was to be the mother of his children, the ones who would take up the mantle as his heirs - the ones who would be placed on a pedestal above all else, but, he couldn't deny his desires for more. Following the scent of one woman, in particular, he followed her scent through the woods, her markers. Eirwyn, the strange woman who had followed him home since he had dragged Nakara back for Serem. Still to this day he didn't understand or know her reasons behind it other than just the desire to join a pack that suited her fancy, or perhaps he did himself catch her eye that day instead.

Stalking through the woods with a steady pace he approached the woman eventually, carefully with a cautious stride. Do you regret your choice on joining us yet?
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she is not long uninterrupted; there comes the warlord, prowling mass of muscle and strength. she can not deny the want, but she can control it. "I do not," she answers, simply, gaze moving over him languidly. 

"you strike me as a leader that takes what they want. such I leader I am willing to follow." she continues, stepping lightly forward once more, gait deceptively easy, casual.
sometimes, dead is better
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She spoke words that he could only perceive as true, what more was he than a greedy warlord who thirsted for everything he saw from power to food, to sex, he was simple in his desires and yet ravenous. Am I that obvious? He purred deeply those words as his ruby eyes continued to watch her carefully, the way she moved so casually closer. She was interesting the moment they met, a strange woman who followed him home on shallow pretenses and yet solid in her beliefs of choice; but now, maybe due to the season... he was captivated.
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she smiles, a too-perfect curve of her lips that fails to reach her gaze. that remains riveted to him. she is not coy; she finds no pleasure in games. "it is an admirable quality," she offers, stepping near to brush lightly against him, pressing feather-soft muzzle to his cheek before moving on so that they are parallel to one another. there she waits, head shifting to peer back over her shoulder. "take what is yours, warlord." 
sometimes, dead is better
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#6
The warmth exchanged from her to him was electrifying, not the same that Serem provided but exciting all the same. He didn't have to think twice about his choice, about diving deep into their primitive desires that she easily extracted from him. In dance, she slid across him and he across her, positioning himself near her rear before grasping her with his forearms, tightly holding her in place and drinking in the moment before everything was a blur of sin and lechery.