Bramblepoint [m] the body

Mature Content Warning

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: conception.

On the fourth day of her season's fever, she did not return home, but skirted around it, moving south. Her mind wandered and she smiled to think of the seal hunter's warmth. It had renewed her in a way she had not expected, and her pace was even quicker than the days prior, galloping through the scenery with her ears pinned back and her eyes focused on the path ahead of her. She slowed only when she arrived to a dense forest, the smell of rich fruit slipping into her nostrils.

She moved more carefully now, evading the thorny bushes until she found a cool stream to drink from. Her body cooled physically, but the heat in her belly did not go away. It would be three more days at least until it dissipated, she knew, and only on the final day would she return home, hope that Argent would be there to share in her body during its most receptive time.

For all the time he'd spent upon the caldera, he wasn't familiar at all with the forest just to its north. Today, that changed, as he wanted to take some mental notes of the place and perhaps look for some food. 

The brush was thick, trees clumped close together. He picked his way through the bramble bushes, cursing a bit as thorns pulled at his flanks. 

Goddamn plants—

The words died away as he entered the clearing. There was a small stream, ready to slake his thirst. The prickly greenery had given way to a nice place to rest.

But he wasn't focused on any of that.

Just the silver wolf, drinking quietly, with a scent wreathed around her that sent his belly flip-flopping.

A rustling in the brush stilled the starwoman, eyes locked on the movement of the foliage until the young man broke free; curses sprung from his mouth. Sialuk relaxed, and a pensive look overtook her features. She knew this man. Sialuk had considered him handsome then, and her opinion had not changed on the matter. If he recognized her, she did not see it in his eyes.

Sialuk moved forward, gliding to close the gap that so inconveniently separated them. Her nostrils flared, taking in the smells of Brecheliant, a sister to her own village, though they shared no blood—yet. A whine began in the back of the Ostrega's throat, and she took another bold step forward so only a sliver of air lay between the two warm bodies.

He managed to close his gaping lower jaw before he spoke, swallowing audibly. He squinted, taking in her silvery appearance. Wait. . .he knew her. He thought. Maybe had met her with Caracal—had she been his girlfriend at some point?!—and hadn't seen her since.

Hey, Killdeer said, smiling. She was. . .quite close. He felt the heat rippling of her and didn't know what quite to do. Or say. Or feel.

I. . .remember you, he went on. We met once, I think. A while ago. With Caracal.

Who was dead. But he didn't say that. There was something in his brain that told him not to say that, just now.

You are called Killdeer, son of Fennec. They had met many times, though under different circumstances. He had lived in her village for a time, with his mother and her companion. She remembered well, even if he did not. Perhaps it had been a time filled with other memories for him. Sialuk found that his lack of memory did not pull her away from him. He was still handsome, still able-bodied, and still a friend to her village. The name of the dead made her ears fold backward, and she whispered a prayer under her breath.

Sialuk, she said, brushing her shoulder against his own, her nose now near his flank. The physical closeness pulled away any other thoughts. When you came to live upon Moonspear, I knew I wished to know your warmth. Her statement was not shy, but clear and crisp like the cold winter air.

i'm a dumbass who forgot his time in moonspear so I'm going chalk it up to blood flowing south of the brain

Moonspear. Moonspear! He gasped, then sighed, shaking his head. That was right. . .she was the master of the mountain they had stayed upon for a time, before setting off upon travel again.

Their paths had crossed more than once.

And what she said next sent a bolt of heat through his stomach toward his loins.

I. . . He sucked in a breath, smiling slightly. Really? Me? Why?

He didn't feel worthy at all of this ethereal wolf's attention.

no worries! forgetfulness runs in the redhawk line. ;)

The man did not seem to know his worth. Had he been looked over in years past? It was a shame to think so, and Sialuk found herself wondering if she would be his first. She had been somebody's first, and she had been the first for others. Each one was a delight in a different way than taking a lover who had been with many.

She grinned at his questions, asked rapidfire like quick drops of rain. You have a handsome face, she replied, a strong body, and an important part women do not have. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and she looked pointedly at the fleshy part on his belly that she lacked. Her eyes looked over her shoulder then, inviting him to learn what he wished.

The more she spoke, the more he swooned—internally at least. And then. . . Oh, he breathed, and would have blushed if he could. He certainly grew warm all over; he felt as if each inch of his flesh was buzzing, tingling.

Without volition, it seemed, Killer moved toward Sialuk. Pressed his cheek against her flank, breathed in the smell of her.

Something in this felt wrong, taboo—but also right?

I think, he said against her fur, you probably know more about this than I do. Again, without his willing it, his teeth preened slowly, gently, at the base of her tail.

He confessed to know little, but Sialuk knew that instinct tended to guide men to where they needed to go. No sooner were the words out of his mouth was he finding his way, and Sialuk grinned. She let him go at his own pace, a gentle word of guidance here and there as needed, which were few. Unlike the heated embrace she had felt with others, though, there was something about the time she spent with the large, handsome man that felt off.

She could not put a name to what it was, exactly, and he had done nothing wrong or painful during the course of their time together, but when all was over, Sialuk felt... well, that was it. She did not feel the same as she had with her other lovers, even those who were brief encounters. The Ostrega struggled with this new emotion, uncharacteristically quiet and pensive post-coitus.

One winter, Killdeer had been particularly congested. When the first flowers of spring bloomed, the pollen tickled his nose. And tickled. And tickled. Until one day, he emitted a sinus-clearing sneeze that knocked him on his ass and had him seeing stars.

That had been the best feeling ever, he'd thought, that godsent release.

He had been wrong.

I can't feel my paws, Killer thought, as he slid from her body and onto the ground. That was all he could think at the moment. Well, besides, "wow."

He soon noticed her demeanor, though, and his own cloud of bliss began to dissipate. Hey, what's the matter? he asked gently. Oh no. Did I do it wrong? 

Now he was thinking many thoughts, most of them being shitshitshit

Sialuk shook her head, placing a paw on Killdeer's own. She gave him a reassuring smile. You did not, she said. The starwoman did not wish to insult him in any way, nor was she entirely sure it was anything he did (or didn't) do. Perhaps it simply was not the right match. An odd thought, considering none before him lacked the quality.

She kissed him gently on the cheek, offering him another display of affection. Do you wish to meet them, when they are born? she asked. Brecheliant was not so far away from Moonspear, and he would be welcome to know them as his own children if he wished. This, however, was his choice to make.

He wasn't entirely convinced, but he let it be, leaning into her embrace and giving her a kiss on the crown of her head in return. It felt like he was underwater, somewhat, and when the question came, he had a hard time comprehending for many moments.

Meet, uh. . .meet. . .? he trailed off, grappling for meaning. The lightbulb went off late, and he pulled back a bit in a eureka! moment. Oh! Meet. . .the children? Your children? Yes, of course—and I'll help. Just let me know what I can do, and I'll help.

He owed it to both Sialuk and Moonspear, seeing as though he'd left the pack having taken more than he gave. Perhaps this was a way to make things even.

Really, Sialuk, he insisted, earnest. Anything you need—they need—I'll pitch in.

Because maybe he'd be the Dad, for real.

Oh fuck. That's actually kind of terrifying to think about.

Sialuk laughed gently, the stumbling of his words humoring her. They will have many fathers, she said. Come to them and be a father, and you will find they are your children. The distance is not long between our villages, so you need not leave your people. And, when they become grown, some may wish to find their home with you. In this way, Sialuk would strengthen the bond between Moonspear and Brecheliant, joining blood with blood so that both might be invested in one another.

Do you have wife to warm your bed? she asked, curious.

Many fathers.

Including him.

But he could share. He was okay with that.

He shook his head at her question, smiling ruefully. No one yet, he admitted, shrugging. Haven't been around anywhere long enough for a wife, I think.

But maybe that was for the better. Hadn't Caracal's wife led to his demise?

Have. . . H-have you had kids before? Killdeer asked, looking a bit concerned. Not that he should be. But it was so new to him—maybe she held similar fears.

Sialuk was not so surprised that he did not yet take a wife. He was young yet, with many years to find a woman and pay her bride price. The life of a travler was one she had taken at his age, and Sialuk did not regret her time learning of other cultures. Without that journey, she would not have known the life of taking many lovers, husbands, and wives. Much of what she had learned had become the basis for her own village.

A smile pulled at her mouth when he asked after her children. Four: Maggak, a girl from my own body, and Acrux, a boy from the body of my fiance. I was mother also to two boys of my sister: Panuk and Rolayne. She still did not know if Rolayne would return to Moontide to be with his father, or if he would stay in Moonspear. Either choice would mean speaking with Rodyn.

Four children—and here he could barely imagine any. A real, sudden bolt of terror went through him at the prospect of being a father.

Oh, God—what've I done? Can I even handle this?!

Sialuk, Killdeer said softly, brows drawing together. I've never done this before. Not any of it. I'm sorry if I seem. . .lost.

He'd always expected to be married, or something, before this happened. It would have been easy—easier, at least. She seemed unafraid, which was good, but he—he was terrified, truthfully.

He was worried about his role, and Sialuk squeezed his paw with her own. You will have many to help, to guide, to learn from, she assured him. It was what she loved most about the village way of family. There was more than enough support from the rest of the involved parties to account for any insufficiencies one had. Sialuk was not a great hunter or fighter, but Argent was. Even Elentari filled gaps in Sialuk's medical knowledge, as they had been trained from different sources. And, if one of them needed to leave the village, there were more than enough eyes to watch the children.

He was amazed at her maturity. She couldn't be more than a year or so older than him, and yet, so much wiser.

Then again, he was no yearling anymore—he ought to grow up.

Parenthood should do the trick. Right?

I should get back to the caldera, Killdeer said, somewhat reluctantly disentangling himself from the embrace. He gazed solemnly at the silver woman and added, Please send for me when the time comes. I'll be there.

He smiled, and when goodbyes had been exchanged, he was on his way home.

Killdeer had just had his cherry popped—and God, he wished he could talk to Caracal about it.