Grouse Thicket I love the way

@Kynareth Deagon 
Early Dawn
41°F

A pretty day.
Sun shone down onto the dewy ground which sends sparkles of light scattering throughout the thicket, illuminating the myriad of autumn cobwebs.
Her paws threw water into her path as she abled along, searching for her next meal.
Head held high.
A Queen, looking for her King.

Saha had done a lot wrong in her life. A lot she was either blind to or didn't give enough fucks about to repent. Her soft pink tongue swept out to lick her damp lips.
She paused in a shaft of sunlight breaking its way into the thicket, and she looked up to see the golden dawn light illuminate the splattering of orange and red leaves.
A good day indeed.

The pack is ready to settle down just as much as he is surely. Paws sore from the contain travel, he decides to wander from the group for a while to explore, relieve himself, and just be alone for one damn second. Though he does love his pack, it’s hard to get the right amount of solitude when they’re traveling like so.

So this fine morning has his trotting off to do exactly those things. The dew gathered onto the grass dropping off and soaking into his dark stockings and creamy, white chest and belly. The dew makes it hard to smell much around the area so he’s completely surprised to pass by a rather thick apple tree and stumble upon quite a beautiful wolf. His golden orbs take down her figure and instantly, by the roundness of her fur and the color of their markings realizes that this stranger is definitely part dog. He could even probably point out which breed she’s mixed with — husky. He’s familiar with the look of wolf and husky mixes for he had quite a few in his previous pack.


Speaking of his previous pack this stranger looks too much like someone he used to know. The urge to repeat her name like a demonic prayer  in his mind wins — Sasha. 

No. It obviously wouldn’t be her. The likelihood of her finding him again, or her even being alive must be slim. Or so he thinks. Little does he know that it really is her. So of course he puts on a charming smile and pass up languidly behind them. A soft and slightly flirty, “Morning, miss.” comes from his maw as he comes to stand next to her.

Though the second she turns to look at him his jaw will drop to the floor and his eyes will widen with unadulterated awe. There’s no way he can mix up those eyes. That’s fucking Sasha.

Her eyes closed, bathing in the warmth staving off the crisp morning chill.
She imagined that she was in a life with no humans. No owners. Just Kynareth.
One where she could keep her children.

Heavy steps sounded towards her, earning the privilege of her eyes opening, but not yet a look.
Not yet.
But there it was. That sickly sweet, thick syrup voice which coated her ears with its presence.
He has come.
Sash slowly turned to look at her husband with a soft smile gracing her features which didn't quite meet her heartless gaze.
"Hello love," she replied with a voice of soft purity.

This would be easier than she thought when his expression switched from a casual, early morning flirt to realising his repeating nightmare was back in the flesh.

Do his eyes deceive him?  Is this who he thinks it is? There’s no way it’s not. For his eyes frantically move over the plains of her face. The smooth and hard features creating the face of his most recent ire and trauma. The worst thing that’s ever happened to him in his life. She took his pack away from him. Grabbed it and ripped it from his loving grasp without a moments hesitation. 

No doubts she will do it again. He thinks darkly. The bright gold of his eyes dull with uncertainty, the urge to rip her throat out before him. He should do it, but he wants to make her suffer — oh, does behind want to make her suffer. What does he even do? He has no room for words.

Her voice then, words dear but he knows she doesn’t mean them. It’s impossible. “Sasha.” A low growling of her name. “How the fuck did you find me again?” He asks, pressing closer to the shewolf. His eyes hard and his expression still one of awe sneaking closer towards sheer rage now. Leaving only an inch or two of space between them.

She watched him assess her.
Deciding whether this was a dream or not. It was far from a dream for him...
She could read him like a book though -- he never through to close himself up.
No.

She could see the cold coals in his golden forgery alight with anger.
This his voice burned with it, demanding to know where she came from. How.
Tears sprang to her eyes, lip quivering.
Not a complete act. She did have regrets.
And was scared of being gifted death.
Kynareth wouldn't let it be slow.

"I - I.." her voice trembled and stuttered as she shrank away from him.
"I didn't know...They hurt me."
The lies poured from the serpent's maw.

"I lost our children," her eyes sparkling with her pain tilted up to him. To beg for forgiveness. To beg for her life and his love.

The giant wolfdog watches her with a scrutiny that says he doesn’t want to believe one word she says. He voice full of venom and his eyes of hatred, he doesn’t even move when she shrinks away and stutters out a reply. Fool me once shame on me. He won’t get fooled again.

Even as she mentions their first litter of surely beautiful pups he wants to spit back in her face. He does but only verbally, humming a low “Good.” down to her. He is merciless, he’s become detached from his first born and he doesn’t even care. At first he craved for the deception to be a lie, wanted so badly for her to come back and maybe, just fucking maybe, live a normal life. Yet here he is and the devil follows right behind, nipping at his heels while the flames of hell tickle his underbelly. He will not make the same mistake again. This time it will be her suffering. This time he will deceive her and leave her bloody and broken, most definitely dead, but not before he makes her suffer first.

So he puts on the act, a sigh leaving his lips he turns from her, walking a few paces away. “I can’t believe you. I don’t.” He thinks aloud. Then he whips his golden orbs to meet her own. “You will prove your loyalty to me.” He stalks closer. “You will die for me if need be. You will serve me, give me another litter of pups. You will never leave my sight again. Or you will die.” He whispers dangerously down to her, breath ghosting along her soft face. Eyes slightly wider than necessary he stares violently at her, daring her to say no.

Good.
The sound resonated through her lithe frame earning him a shiver of hatred, disgust, and sorrow.
All she wanted now...was a family. They'd taken her children when she still wanted to love them. They took her last morsel of her lovers legacy.
She wanted more.
More.

And there he was, pushing her closer to the ground with just his eyes, making her grovel for his affection.
So she did.
Sasha belly-crawled closer to him, rolling herself onto her back, forcing crocodile tears from her eyes as she gave him a soft whimper. Not to make him feel sympathy -- no, he didn't have that -- but to make him feel the power he had over her. 

"Yes Grandmaster," the words fell from her lips. There was almost no doubt that he still called himself that. He was too proud.

He’s satisfied by the groveling, by the high pitched whimpers that slip past her maw. The way she crawls towards him with those pretty eyes that he fell in love with so long ago gazing up to him. A strange though of perhaps maybe even learning to love her again passes through his broken mind. He is quick to retract it, reminding him of all she’s done. It’s easy to hate her, much harder to love her and forget what she did. So he will continue to hate her. Simple.

So he smirks, a horrid toothy one at the title — Grandmaster. Dipping his head down to her, his eyes are half lidded and gaze upon her with rage and lust. “Perfect, love. This will do nicely.” He hums sweetly down to her, then his voice becomes much harder as he pulls away. “Now get up and come meet your new family. The ones you will not be killing.” He growls and without another thought he begins trotting off, expecting her to follow without so much as a look back.

Ah.
He's pleased.
Her tail twitched with whoreish anticipation.
But he clearly wasn't in the mood.
Shame.

His warmth is pulled away from her as he leaves, voice hard with contained emotion. So she assumes. She's really hit a nerve. She rolls onto her belly, watching his curled tail bob as he leaves. Follow.
The silent command repeated in her mind pushed her to her feet and followed in silence.

Time to meet the family, she guessed.