Noctisardor Bypass hash pipe

The feeling was all together sudden and slow to arrive. But when it hit her, Sequoia knew exactly what it was. Raven had taught her that much, and she felt decidedly alive this evening. She was hungry even though she'd raided a cache earlier in the day, and she now understood what that meant. The feeling was inescapable, and she knew that it meant she had to skedaddle out of here and find herself a donor.

However, instead, Sequoia found herself trailing after @Mahler's scent. Yes, the old dad scent. Something about it was different and musky and she couldn't pull herself away from it. In fact, when she realized it was his scent she was following, she stopped, lifted her head, and howled for him. Her tone was not at all what she was expecting, and she furrowed her brow when the final note fell away.

This heat stuff was really fucking with her head.

upon his mind, elke and ciri. upon his mind, nyx. and forefront in it always, wylla. today mahler treated the wounds across his muzzle, skin twitching beneath the crumbled leaves.
he meant now to seek out the lake, to wash himself; perhaps to take a nap in the warming loam there. but he was seized off-guard by a sudden swelling song, the way it plucked at his mind, muddling it.
a fragrance grew, looping him tightly close to the trail until he stood before the young woman. "vhy have you summoned me?" he inquired, an unwanted hoarseness clinging to the back of his throat. he had given her leave to do as she wished.

It was a strange sensation, to be simultaneously attracted to—and repulsed at the thought of being attracted to—Mahler. Sequoia decided it was the worst feeling, and it reminded her all too much of her feelings for Crow. She hated his stupid fucking guts, and yet, all she wanted right now was to curl up in the little spoon position and have Crow tell her everything was going to be alright.

Mahler was an old (as she had reiterated in her head and to others ad nauseam). She didn't feel for Mahler the same way she felt for Crow. This was far more instinct based than what she'd had with Crow. But it was there. The intense longing that stirred in her was entirely different... but similar. She couldn't shake that sensation.

For once, she was at a loss for words at his question. Usually quick with a comeback or some witty remark, she had nothing. Sequoia stared at him blankly for a while longer.

I'm leaving, like we talked about. Wanted to give you a heads up. Yeah, totally. That was it. This was definitely not a "hot for daddy" situation. Nope, nope, not at all.

each second that he stood near sequoia, mahler was beginning to lose his sense. he was logical and wounded enough to remain steadfast, but despite the age touted in the younger's head, he was not immune to her enchantments.
an primal prowl closer, charcoal plume swaying; but the gargoyle would not approach, not truly. "i had hoped," voice trailing, the stupidity of what he had been about to say cutting off: he had hoped she might go with praimfaya, for he did not enjoy the potential of either being alone at this time.
but this was what he had chosen: possession over freedom. "i vant you to be careful, sequoia," he murmured, not quite paternalistic but worried all the same.

She couldn't keep her eyes off of him, as silly and stupid as that seemed to her. It was silly and stupid. He was her leader. Off limits. Unavailable. And sooooo not her type. Not even for a hookup. Right? Right. Right? Right. Right. Rightrightright.

Then he swooped in with that "be careful out there" sentiment, and Sequoia knew that she really needed to hightail it out of here before... well, you know. And yet, her feet didn't move on their own. She knew she had the ability to move them, but her feet seemed to have a plan of their own.

Sequoia took a step toward him. She didn't ask the question that lingered on the tip of her tongue, but she thought it.

"What if I didn't leave at all?"

She knew that, if she spoke it, there was a chance she would stay here. There was a chance that Mahler would father the children she so desperately wanted for herself. It was a stupid, childish idea. An absurd idea. Right? Rightrightright.

and yet sequoia did not approach; she took a movement forward. mahler was ground-tied and dry-mouthed. it would be the easiest thing to change his mind, to father more children for rivenwood —
slake his own frustrated desires and his selfishness
— but it was a poor reason to do so.
"sequoia," and his voice vibrated with diligent control. "i am too ahead of you in age to be beneath your consideration." it was why he had not put himself forth when he had called she and praimfaya together and given them their leave. 
he could not remain forever; his rein was starting to untether, but mahler wanted to see her off upon her journey.

He said her name so steadily, and that alone only grew her attraction to him. The deep baritone of his voice was just so lovely to her ears. She felt like she could listen to it four hours, even if he was persistently telling her to get out of Rivenwood and find somebody else to be the father of her children.

You don't believe that, she cooed, her tail twitching between her hocks.

I'll still go, find another man to father my children. But what if we... the rest of the question was implied as she stared at him, overcome by the hormones flowing through her. She had heard of it before. And then he could treat the children as his own, just as he intended to. Never mind if nature had other plans. Nobody would know their true father, and she could claim it to be the strangers if asked.

his heavy voice had not turned sequoia away; it had only sharpened her interest. mahler found himself dismayed. "i do." dismayed that she did not listen, that she stood with her eyes knowing and wanting upon him. he knew wholly it was only the season for such things, that the young woman was in no more control of herself than she was him.
he could not bend to it as a more youthful man might; he must remain still and firm. for many reasons; his soul, his pack, his love.
a portrait of wylla's face filled his thoughts.
"go out into the vorld. i cannot do this again vithout love." if she did not move, mahler would take a step forward, feeling his desires pierce him but meaning to hurry sequoia away, gently, urgently.

Last one from me!

His answer puzzled her, if only because Sequoia had never heard Mahler mention "love." Of Rivenwood as a whole, she could see it, but another wolf? He'd always seemed so sullen and lonely. Then again, maybe there was some story there she was missing. She huffed at him when he took a step forward, his step not toward her, but ushering her away.

I'll be back, she said, then turned tail to leave. Mahler would still be a part of their lives, she thought as she broke from the territory's boundaries. Not in the way that Dio had been her father, but in the way that Wildfire had been her guardian.