Post by Althaea on Mar 7, 2013 21:09:42 GMT -5
Althaea f. Wolf
Brutal m. Wolf (Guest)
Curling Creek
-----------------------------------
There are very few things in this world that seem to rattle the indomitable and always steadfast Brutal, particularly where the wolf's guarded demeanor is concerned. But of all things, it is the unknown that will put the wolf on edge; but worse, is the unknown that deliberately makes itself know. It didn't take long for Brutal to discover the scent of a stranger, who's audacity provoked Brutal into a near insidious mood. However, every attempt to track down the offending vagrant only lead to dead ends and more aggravation. At the end of the day, the massive male has given up the pursuit in order to chase down something -or rather, someone- much easier to find. In fact, if it wasn't for the changing season and Althaea's developing condition, Brutal likely would have been less concerned with the interloper, save for maybe a report to Ikuna. Not that these days the Ute Alpha is any easier to track down, which just adds to the frustration. So it is with little ceremony that Brutal's dark figure comes blustering down the game path that runs parallel to the creek, ears flattened and his jaw set in a tight lipped scowl as yellow eyes search ahead for Althaea.
Tracks zigzag the around the trees before circling around a large bush that's been split down its center long ago by a fallen tree branch. To one side the tracks look to be plenty as if their owner had given pause to examine the collision before trailing off toward the creek bed. To follow them would lead you to more, separated by half frozen waters, autumn grass struggling to keep alive and a flattened patch of leaves and other vegetation. Gazing up from its center, a she-wolf watches early light snow fall from the skies, melting just before hitting the ground. A lovely sight it was, making a dull scene worth looking at.
Branches crack and brittle brush rustles in the wake of the giant that treads heavily upon one and shoulders thoughtlessly past the other. So much is his disregard for stealth or even for the sake of serenity, that Brutal's arrival is every bit as obstreperous as a angry bull moose. Brutal doesn't have to follow the meandering pattern of wolf prints in order to find their owner at the end and instead, hops the blasted pine and cuts a straight path across the creek, where another short leaping stride lands him on the other side. Immediately his yellow eyes set upon the sight of the she-wolf settled in the leaf litter, dropped from trees already dressed down for the harsh winter ahead. So intent is he that Brutal hardly notices the flit and flutter of snow flakes on the cool breeze, save other than a brief wrinkling of his muzzle as a few cold flakes collide with his nose. However, despite his begrudging mood, the dark wolf does manage something of a respectful drop of his large head as he slips almost cautiously up to her side. "There you are." he calls lowly, his tone a mix between relief and suppressed anxiety as his gaze sweeps over her covetously. He soon extends his muzzle out to sniff along her shoulders and neck in further suspicion, until finally ending with a dab of his tongue tip against the back of her ear. "You shouldn't be out here like this." he scolds, as usual. "Besides, there is a rogue that might be lurking around." Brutal can't contain the sneer that cross his maw, teeth clenching together as he hisses through them, "Rather boldly, at that."
The scene wasn't worth looking at however, not for her anyway. The cascading snow against a grey visage; just enough orange and brown in the leaves and grass to make her wonder what makes a blank canvas of snow so beautiful. Closing her eyes as the light snow falls over her face, Althaea listens, ears flicking to the crackling and rustles of nearby undergrowth. She waits only a moment before opening them to gaze upon the darkened figure of her hearts other half leaping to share the shore with her. Watching him near, following him up to her side she would nuzzle the hardened wolf if not for his words. "Then perhaps you shouldn't leave me so alone." She says in a more mild version of his own scolding. She knew of this likely rogue, his scent heavy over the trees. It was an overwhelming smell that nearly made her go searching for him but alas she's kept herself alone. "It grows difficult, Brutal. Why you wait.." She sighs turning to the ground briefly then standing. Moving to the river, she paws at the frost clearing a spot to drink.
On account of his mood, the affect of Althaea's accusations in retaliation elicits from the wolf a very distinct stiffening, thick brows knitting together as he fixes her with a quick glower. Suspicion flickers behind eyes that burn with a tempered jealousy, a dangerous obsession that has Brutal curling his lips at her as a snarl of defiance threatens to rise up in his throat. However, the spark of a lovers quarrel is extinguished by the desperation in her voice with those next words, catching the wolf off guard and causing his posture to soften. And while the intensity that he watches her doesn't lessen, it changes to burn with another flash of emotion. Almost immediately does he stalk after her when she rises and moves down to the creek's edge, the gravel of the dry creek bed crunching beneath the weight of him as he comes to stand a short distance at her back, silently observing her as she paws at the frozen edge. For a long moment he just quietly stares, but just when it seems he has no retort or explanation, his baritone voice comes in a audible hush. "/I/ wait for /you/, Althaea." he begins, "If it was my choice, I would have had you that day in the woods." He starts forward now, keeping his steps small and measured, "And the day after," he continues, still moving forward until his approach has his body brushing against her own and his breath to billowing hot against the side of her neck. Bringing the end of his muzzle close to her ear, as he has done many times before, he drops his voice to a whisper, "And every day to now."
The cold burn of the waters past her lips sends a chill down the she-wolf's spine, lifting the hairs there and fixed with shack of her coat. A few dragged on laps conclude Althaea's thirst, lifting her head feeling the discomfort her words have put upon the male. Keeping her gaze from him for a while longer, she lingers on the waters cupping her ears back to the sound of his weight over the gravel. Holding a breath to his spoken words, she releases it when they first grow silent. She would have let him take her too had he tried but the regret that day would of caused. She's rather glad they waited, but had she known the desire to grow every passing day... The touch of Brutal's body against her's seizes further thought of what might of been that night, or any other night for that matter. Pressing into the warmth of his body, escaping from the cold if only for a moment, she covets his very presence. Sure some of it was from the condition she bares, heck mostly is probably, but the parts that weren't were because she loved him. "Then let your wait finally be over." She speaks softly slipping her head beneath his, finally ready.
The young she-wolf isn't the only one to drink in the warmth produced between the mash of their bodies, the comfort found in it begging Brutal to crowd her all the more until their bodies become flush from shoulder to flank. But it is with a nervous expectancy and anxious hunger that the wolf awaits her reception, though the tension of his muscles and his bold posture from moments ago still lingers, told by the subtle quiver felt as he leans into her. And while the threat and jealousy suffered at the threat of intrusion from the rogue interloper has diminished, it does not stop Brutal from feeling the affect of those earlier emotions, stirring in him strong instincts to claim what he has been so strongly guarding and pining after. Therefore, with the push of her head beneath his chin and the utterance of those words, Althaea's desire becomes his own. There is not a vestige of thought towards affirmation this time, no second chances given to allow the young female to reconsider. She has been courted, pursued, and jealously guarded as her devoted mate becomes the worse for wear because of it; such is Nature's test of strength and endurance, and to the victor goes the spoils. Althaea is now his prize, a treasure to keep for himself by all regards and in this moment, damned be the consequences. With his muzzle still near her ear, he speaks quietly, his voice a blissful sigh that becomes a visible vapor as he exhales into the cold air, "I had hoped you'd say that." he confesses. Eager as he is, Brutal restrains himself enough to attempt to be a gentleman about things, least the memory of their first encounter of this affair become that of a frozen creek bank and scrambling paws on stony gravel. Instead, he shifts to shove his head affectionately against the side her own, licking at her muzzle as he uses his tall shoulder to nudge her around and away from the stream, letting her walk along next to him as he leads them toward the denser cover of the nearby forest.
The thought of reconsidering never crosses Althaea's mind, she's made him wait long enough and to endure anymore of this unrelenting 'heat' without release, she may just lose herself to the wild and whatever stranger may lurk within it. Tail flung in motion with her turn to exit the icy creek bed, she bumps into Brutal leaning her head to the side in a desperate attempt to remain close and not become one with the ground by falling out of recklessness. Scrambling out of the bank, a smile on her muzzle, she walks in step with her suitor toward the intended destination of their long awaited union. Its not to say that during this walk she doesn't think about what could happen, cause she does. She'd be crazy not to, but she also thinks of the good things that may come out of it. Its with those thoughts that she licks her mate.
Brutal m. Wolf (Guest)
Curling Creek
-----------------------------------
There are very few things in this world that seem to rattle the indomitable and always steadfast Brutal, particularly where the wolf's guarded demeanor is concerned. But of all things, it is the unknown that will put the wolf on edge; but worse, is the unknown that deliberately makes itself know. It didn't take long for Brutal to discover the scent of a stranger, who's audacity provoked Brutal into a near insidious mood. However, every attempt to track down the offending vagrant only lead to dead ends and more aggravation. At the end of the day, the massive male has given up the pursuit in order to chase down something -or rather, someone- much easier to find. In fact, if it wasn't for the changing season and Althaea's developing condition, Brutal likely would have been less concerned with the interloper, save for maybe a report to Ikuna. Not that these days the Ute Alpha is any easier to track down, which just adds to the frustration. So it is with little ceremony that Brutal's dark figure comes blustering down the game path that runs parallel to the creek, ears flattened and his jaw set in a tight lipped scowl as yellow eyes search ahead for Althaea.
Tracks zigzag the around the trees before circling around a large bush that's been split down its center long ago by a fallen tree branch. To one side the tracks look to be plenty as if their owner had given pause to examine the collision before trailing off toward the creek bed. To follow them would lead you to more, separated by half frozen waters, autumn grass struggling to keep alive and a flattened patch of leaves and other vegetation. Gazing up from its center, a she-wolf watches early light snow fall from the skies, melting just before hitting the ground. A lovely sight it was, making a dull scene worth looking at.
Branches crack and brittle brush rustles in the wake of the giant that treads heavily upon one and shoulders thoughtlessly past the other. So much is his disregard for stealth or even for the sake of serenity, that Brutal's arrival is every bit as obstreperous as a angry bull moose. Brutal doesn't have to follow the meandering pattern of wolf prints in order to find their owner at the end and instead, hops the blasted pine and cuts a straight path across the creek, where another short leaping stride lands him on the other side. Immediately his yellow eyes set upon the sight of the she-wolf settled in the leaf litter, dropped from trees already dressed down for the harsh winter ahead. So intent is he that Brutal hardly notices the flit and flutter of snow flakes on the cool breeze, save other than a brief wrinkling of his muzzle as a few cold flakes collide with his nose. However, despite his begrudging mood, the dark wolf does manage something of a respectful drop of his large head as he slips almost cautiously up to her side. "There you are." he calls lowly, his tone a mix between relief and suppressed anxiety as his gaze sweeps over her covetously. He soon extends his muzzle out to sniff along her shoulders and neck in further suspicion, until finally ending with a dab of his tongue tip against the back of her ear. "You shouldn't be out here like this." he scolds, as usual. "Besides, there is a rogue that might be lurking around." Brutal can't contain the sneer that cross his maw, teeth clenching together as he hisses through them, "Rather boldly, at that."
The scene wasn't worth looking at however, not for her anyway. The cascading snow against a grey visage; just enough orange and brown in the leaves and grass to make her wonder what makes a blank canvas of snow so beautiful. Closing her eyes as the light snow falls over her face, Althaea listens, ears flicking to the crackling and rustles of nearby undergrowth. She waits only a moment before opening them to gaze upon the darkened figure of her hearts other half leaping to share the shore with her. Watching him near, following him up to her side she would nuzzle the hardened wolf if not for his words. "Then perhaps you shouldn't leave me so alone." She says in a more mild version of his own scolding. She knew of this likely rogue, his scent heavy over the trees. It was an overwhelming smell that nearly made her go searching for him but alas she's kept herself alone. "It grows difficult, Brutal. Why you wait.." She sighs turning to the ground briefly then standing. Moving to the river, she paws at the frost clearing a spot to drink.
On account of his mood, the affect of Althaea's accusations in retaliation elicits from the wolf a very distinct stiffening, thick brows knitting together as he fixes her with a quick glower. Suspicion flickers behind eyes that burn with a tempered jealousy, a dangerous obsession that has Brutal curling his lips at her as a snarl of defiance threatens to rise up in his throat. However, the spark of a lovers quarrel is extinguished by the desperation in her voice with those next words, catching the wolf off guard and causing his posture to soften. And while the intensity that he watches her doesn't lessen, it changes to burn with another flash of emotion. Almost immediately does he stalk after her when she rises and moves down to the creek's edge, the gravel of the dry creek bed crunching beneath the weight of him as he comes to stand a short distance at her back, silently observing her as she paws at the frozen edge. For a long moment he just quietly stares, but just when it seems he has no retort or explanation, his baritone voice comes in a audible hush. "/I/ wait for /you/, Althaea." he begins, "If it was my choice, I would have had you that day in the woods." He starts forward now, keeping his steps small and measured, "And the day after," he continues, still moving forward until his approach has his body brushing against her own and his breath to billowing hot against the side of her neck. Bringing the end of his muzzle close to her ear, as he has done many times before, he drops his voice to a whisper, "And every day to now."
The cold burn of the waters past her lips sends a chill down the she-wolf's spine, lifting the hairs there and fixed with shack of her coat. A few dragged on laps conclude Althaea's thirst, lifting her head feeling the discomfort her words have put upon the male. Keeping her gaze from him for a while longer, she lingers on the waters cupping her ears back to the sound of his weight over the gravel. Holding a breath to his spoken words, she releases it when they first grow silent. She would have let him take her too had he tried but the regret that day would of caused. She's rather glad they waited, but had she known the desire to grow every passing day... The touch of Brutal's body against her's seizes further thought of what might of been that night, or any other night for that matter. Pressing into the warmth of his body, escaping from the cold if only for a moment, she covets his very presence. Sure some of it was from the condition she bares, heck mostly is probably, but the parts that weren't were because she loved him. "Then let your wait finally be over." She speaks softly slipping her head beneath his, finally ready.
The young she-wolf isn't the only one to drink in the warmth produced between the mash of their bodies, the comfort found in it begging Brutal to crowd her all the more until their bodies become flush from shoulder to flank. But it is with a nervous expectancy and anxious hunger that the wolf awaits her reception, though the tension of his muscles and his bold posture from moments ago still lingers, told by the subtle quiver felt as he leans into her. And while the threat and jealousy suffered at the threat of intrusion from the rogue interloper has diminished, it does not stop Brutal from feeling the affect of those earlier emotions, stirring in him strong instincts to claim what he has been so strongly guarding and pining after. Therefore, with the push of her head beneath his chin and the utterance of those words, Althaea's desire becomes his own. There is not a vestige of thought towards affirmation this time, no second chances given to allow the young female to reconsider. She has been courted, pursued, and jealously guarded as her devoted mate becomes the worse for wear because of it; such is Nature's test of strength and endurance, and to the victor goes the spoils. Althaea is now his prize, a treasure to keep for himself by all regards and in this moment, damned be the consequences. With his muzzle still near her ear, he speaks quietly, his voice a blissful sigh that becomes a visible vapor as he exhales into the cold air, "I had hoped you'd say that." he confesses. Eager as he is, Brutal restrains himself enough to attempt to be a gentleman about things, least the memory of their first encounter of this affair become that of a frozen creek bank and scrambling paws on stony gravel. Instead, he shifts to shove his head affectionately against the side her own, licking at her muzzle as he uses his tall shoulder to nudge her around and away from the stream, letting her walk along next to him as he leads them toward the denser cover of the nearby forest.
The thought of reconsidering never crosses Althaea's mind, she's made him wait long enough and to endure anymore of this unrelenting 'heat' without release, she may just lose herself to the wild and whatever stranger may lurk within it. Tail flung in motion with her turn to exit the icy creek bed, she bumps into Brutal leaning her head to the side in a desperate attempt to remain close and not become one with the ground by falling out of recklessness. Scrambling out of the bank, a smile on her muzzle, she walks in step with her suitor toward the intended destination of their long awaited union. Its not to say that during this walk she doesn't think about what could happen, cause she does. She'd be crazy not to, but she also thinks of the good things that may come out of it. Its with those thoughts that she licks her mate.