Culling Time [CLOSED]

[La_Reina]

"Yeeeeeeeeehaw! It's culling time Butch!"

Butch took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. His eyes roved over Caleb who was bouncing from excitement. The camp had grown even more and it seemed the women were giving birth to more and more males. It had been awhile, but yes there numbers were down and it was culling time. Butch nodded and Caleb gave a squeal and rushed out the door, jumped down the patio, and ran to take the requests of the eligible single men.

Butch began making his own rounds. They needed 6 men for the culling. It was going to be a long trip. Hell, making it out of their woods to even civilization was a weeks trip alone. They were safe here, but a culling was always risky. Never know if someone would sneak away, get caught, or worse expose them all. A culling was the only way they could be discovered and Butch didn't want to lose his foothold on this life and his power.

Later in the evening Butch had the most trusted men he could count on. They were good hunters and trackers and best they would never trade this life for "civilized decency". No, here these men can hunt and live like men were supposed to. If you had a problem here you didn't talk or backstab like in "civilization". NO, you called that bastard out and you fought until it was settled. Then you grab a beer and let the past stay in the past.

The only thing missing is womenfolk. Not many women wanted to give up the "civilized life" to live here and .... pretty much have no power of her own. The men ruled here. Plus the birthrate of women in the camp wasn't high; so every 10+ years the men had to venture out and go into the "civilized world" and claim the women as their own. Each eligible man could put in an order for a woman; describe what you want physically and in temperament. If a woman is taken back and decided she wasn't ... up to standards she was killed and her body used for other resources like fuel. The culling was taken very seriously and the women were selected very carefully.

The men enjoyed their world and they weren't backwards people. There was no killing any other person (unless it was a woman who ran off), no raping (unless it was your woman or property), and no stealing.

Caleb came back with the "orders". Most of the time the men ordered women who were good looking and could cook. The cook part the men wouldn't know, so they were going to focus on the looks. "Here's all the orders Butch. Everyone who could placed an order except ..." Caleb trailed off looking towards the biggest house and the house that stood the farthest away from everyone.

Butch waved Caleb off. "That fucker never places an order. He probably fucks his dog!" The group of men snickered. The man who lived in that house was a mean son of a bitch preferring to be alone then fight, fart, and hang with the other men of the camp. Didn't help the man never lost a fight and Butch was sure if he wanted to take Butch down no one would stop him. No, Butch didn't like that fucker.

"We have planning to do men..."

***

Aya was in a shit mood. She woke up late and the day hadn't gotten much better after that. She was currently in the bank waiting to deposit her previous job's last check into her account. The door open, there was a scream, and everyone was on the ground. 6 hooded, mask men came in with guns!

"Fucking great," Aya yelled in frustration. She was forced to her knees. As the men robbed the bank Aya yawned.

"You fucking bored girlie," one of the men said.

Aya slowly rolled her eyes up with contempt in them. "Are you guys done yet? Aren't you supposed to do this in minutes or something?"

"Shut the fuck up or we'll take you as a hostage," the man turned to the whole bank addressing everyone, "and that goes for anyone else who wants to be taken and killed."

There was a few whimpers and people crying, but Aya just rolled her eyes and shook her head. "What? You don't think we'll take you, girlie?"

"I'm black. You're not going to get an ransom for a black girl, so no. I don't think you will. Just take your money and go. Some people still have other shit to do."

The man stared at her while the rest of the men collected the money. He continued staring at her until one man tapped him and motioned they were done and to go. The man slowly smiled and made a come here motion to Aya. Aya cocked an eyebrow. There was no way in hell she was going with them. The man's gaze grew hard. He walked over and smacked her hard. In pure instinct Aya pulled back and punched him hard in the stomach. The man grimaced and half bent before he stood back up. Aya pulled back her hand and clutched it. The fucker had a hard stomach and she knew she fucked up.

"I have a surprise for you girlie. Bring her."

"What?! Why, we don't need her." The man just stared until the other man backed down and walked up to Aya. Aya raised her hand to ward off an attack, but she didn't see the butt of the gun hit her until she felt a whap and was falling in darkness. The fucker had hit her from behind.

Aya woke up in a van with 12 other females. They were crowded and the woman (all white) were crying or looked like they had been taken for days. Aya tried to rub her head, but she was handcuffed. A few women were too. Aya blinked, "human trafficking ..." she murmured. Now, what would they do with a black girl? Probably kill her for sport. Aya closed her eyes and she could feel dread, horror, and helplessness trying to kick in. Aya pushed them back. She would survive. She had too.

https://i.pinimg.com/736x/ac/a9/1b/aca91bc72123fc90ff0b63f5ed22c555.jpg

 

[Shadoleopard]

Sven releases the arrow, watching it pierce the giant wild turkey’s neck cleanly. It still runs further into the brush, arrow flopping around, dead but not yet knowing it. He looks down at Sugarfoot, then flicks his head in the direction of the fresh corpse sixty odd yards away. The mostly dark grey wolf with pure white paws lopes forward, retrieves it, and returns. He leans down, stroking between her ears as she drops the wild turkey into his other hand. "Gooood girrrrllll." His voice is low, rough from disuse almost to the point of being one of her growls. She nuzzles his arm, tail windmilling at the praise.

He pulls a large knife from his belt, carefully cutting the arrow from their meal. He continues dismembering the bird, carefully stripping its feathers for yet more arrows, draining its blood into a small skin, then tossing the viscera to Sugarfoot. “Not a bad haul this trip, eh? We’ll eat well for a bit. Who the hell says you’re bad luck? A large buck, a doe, some shrooms, a new berry patch, those rabbits you chased out, and a coupla wild turkeys on the way back when we stop for a meal… Not a bad hunting trip. It’ll be nice to get home though, eh? A nice, warm, bed, and all the hot water, hooch and green we can toss back. Stealin’ all my cookies our first night out… twice…greedy pupper. Now to decide whether to get home tonight or spend another night in the woods. Wonder what’s new. What do you think?”

Sugarfoot’s tongue lolls, looking innocent as she can, panting softly at his feet. “Yeah, yeah. I know. You’re happy wherever, and didn’t eat nothing. Totally weren’t blasted all the next day. Screw it, we’ll push on in. We should get the meat smoked or into the root cellar. Time to get back into our harnesses.” Sven carefully reloads and hooks the crude travois to Sugarfoot, then shrugging on his own oversized, overloaded rucksack. Their tracks are erased by pine boughs they’d used for bedding attached to the back of the travois.

Without another sound, the pair slip through the dense, forested mountains as dusk falls. As they get closer, they spot some of the settlement’s sentries. They go utterly unnoticed by the first. He shakes his head. Sloppy. They have a travois and a couple hundred pounds of meat. How could they be missed? He grins, next seeing Johnny, one of his few friends, relaxing in a large hickory. He’s proud to note Johnny is turning toward him to wave even as Sven calls, “Eyyyy, Johnnnyyyy!”

Johnny grins from his perch. “You got past, again? Butch is gonna be apoplectic when he returns,”
he calls, slinging his rifle over his shoulder, shimmies down the tree, and pulls Sven in for a quick hug, before reaching down to pet Sugarfoot’s flank. Her tail wags vigorously. Not the windnill Sven got, but near. He continues, “I haven’t seen you in weeks. I thought you were going out for a few days’ hunt. Not weeks. Damn, you’ve missed a lot. How’d you slip in and out? Butch threw a feast with that first buck you left in the night last week. Everyone threw a toast to your absent self.”

Sven shrugs, “Game was scarce early, but I got lucky after a bit. Still didn’t feel like socializing, so I went out again. Glad it went over well. Did everyone like my other surprise?”

Johnny’s grin somehow widens, “Brad got whipped for letting you get through, then back out, unseen. It was fucking hilarious to watch both he and Butch sputtering, looking at the travois marks starting at the gate, and leading to the storehouse, and the paw prints leading outta town, but nothing before or after. Butch was even more pissed at the note saying you’d be back in another week or two, and to have fun, but strengthen the sentries. I think he’s worried one of these days you won’t be back. N he knows he can’t do shit to stop you. That was priceless, bro. Priceless. But, erm… it is a good thing you went out hunting. We’re gonna have another baker’s dozen mouths to feed… Butch decided enough “needed” a wife, declined to wait as you and some others suggested.”

“Fucking moronic,” Sven spits, shaking his head.


Johnny nods, “Yeah, I thought you’d agree. It makes sense, we are getting lopsided numbers again so we kinda needed one. Even my Jenny said she could use some new friends. Iris could use another playmate or two, even. But too many at once… and they were going to pull them all from the same location. Should be back any day now. Jebediah came on ahead. The boys are still bringing them in. Probably runnin’ em around in the woods to confuse ‘em and muddy tracks for any followers still.”

“What!? A Cull? Now? That large? You’d think we were still in the 1800s, didn’t have to worry about civilization encroaching on us from every edge of the mountains. Or helicopters. Or national manhunts for trafficking rings.”

“Well, at least he made sure the camo is solid, and did change up a few things after your last trip. No one was willing to wait. Or decline. Except the bries, but you know them. They always will. Butch is even thinkin’ ‘bout letting men request a couple brides. Old Testament.”

Sven sighs, “Fucker’s gonna get us all in prison or killed. But I gotta get Sugarfoot outta her travois. Get the meat stored and to the smokers. See you after your sentry shift.” He strides off with Sugarfoot at his side.

Johnny returns to his tree, shaking his head, wondering if he should have mentioned the surprise Jeb had laughed so hard about. No. It would be far funnier this way. Might soften the news the men had committed a major bank robbery on the same raid. It is going to be one hell of a few weeks. Probably months. Maybe even years. Culling time traditionally was, but this one would be something for the books. He'd near guarantee it. Would he or Jenny win their bet?



https://i.pinimg.com/736x/9d/7c/c9/9d7cc9e2d10f3726c8c1d525295b0f9c.jpg

 

[La_Reina]

(was given permission to god-mode a little bit)

They traveled forever! It seemed they barely stopped and if they did it was so everyone could relieve themselves in the woods. At first Aya refused, but once she realized they weren't going to run into anyone else and she didn't want to soil her clothes anymore then they were she finally used the bathroom. There was no toilet paper. She ended up taking her shirt jacket and ripping the hem to use as a cloth and then leaving it in the ground. She immediately thought of leaving a trail. She looked up and hadn't noticed Butch had been watching her pee! He immediately walked over and dug a small hole and pushed her contents into it and buried it. He smirked and walked off. Apparently, he wasn't new to this.

When they got back to the van Aya leaned towards the closest girl and whispered, "Do they watch you pee too?" The girl's eyes widened with alarm as she shook her head, "I don't think so," she stammered.

Aya sighed. That bastard was just watching her. That solidified it for her. Aya was going to get away. Aya's stomach grumbled and she could hear other stomachs too. One of the kidnappers a young man with light brown hair and matching eyes kept looking over at a very pretty redhead with concerns. He pulled out a piece of gum and handed it to her, "this should help stave off the hunger until we get there. We didn't have enough food as we had to feed a bit more people than usual. We should be there in another hour or so," the man looked pointedly at Aya.

"Dammit, why'd you tell them that," said a black haired man.

"Cuz she's hungry and look at her," the brown haired one said staring at the red haired one. "Plus this one is mine and I want to take care of her and make sure she's protected at all times. No one will hurt you, okay?"

The red haired girl took the gum and nodded. Aya could already tell she was starting to trust this kidnapper. Aya shook her head. She couldn't get distracted. The man then gave the girl water and Aya almost groaned. Water would be so good and it was apparent the man only really cared about the red haired girl.

Aya forced herself to stare at her surroundings that looked the same and try to figure out which direction they were going, any interesting landmarks, and how she could escape. Suddenly the van stopped. "OUT!"

The door swung open and Aya and everyone else scrambled out. They were lead on a hike and Aya started to lag behind. Not, because she was trying to escape, but she was wearing heels. The other girls were either barefoot, had on sneakers, or sandals. Aya didn't want to walk barefoot when suddenly that mean one came up to her, literally picked her up, and grabbed her heels off her feet. He looked ready to throw them.

"Please don't! Those are Christian - look I'll carry them and keep up. Please they are so expensive."

"Where you're going you won't need them." Then he threw her $1000 shoes, she was still paying on, into the woods in two different directions. Aya almost cried as he dumped her on the ground. "Now keep up or I'll really make you pay."

Aya was glad she had on jeans, but her shirt jacket was ripped and her blouse was getting really dirty and sticky. She sighed, stood up, and vowed to make him hurt for throwing her shoes. The walk took FOREVER! Just when Aya knew she was going to collapse suddenly there was a huge encampment and everyone was pushed towards a fire and given a bowl of broth. Aya slurped her broth greedily and declined a second helping. She realized she didn't know what she was eating and she didn't want to get too full.

Aya watched as slowly more and more people showed up. Aya was surprised to see children and women here, but as she looked she grew more concerned. There was not one minority person here. She was the only person of color and she wasn't sure what that meant.

Suddenly, that bastard stood up and began addressing everyone. "My name is Butch and I run this place."

"Figures," Aya said to herself, but Butch's eyes landed on her and she wondered if he heard her. She didn't like the way his eyes gleamed at her.

"You will not be able to escape.You have all been chosen. You will-"

"Chosen for what?!" Aya yelled at Butch.

Butch stared at her and sighed. He was going to get to that part, but later. "For marriage." The girls all started to protest. One said she was already engaged. "ENOUGH! YOUR MATES WILL COME AND CLAIM YOU. IF THEY DECIDE YOU ARE MORE TROUBLE THEN IT'S WORTH THEN YOU ARE FREE GAME FOR ANYONE TO TAKE YOU. IF NO ONE CLAIMS YOU THEN YOU CAN BE KILLED. IF YOU RUN YOU WILL BE KILLED. IF YOU LEAVE THE CAMP YOU WILL BE KILLED. WE HAVE PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. YOU CANNOT RUN. YOU CANNOT HIDE. AND YOU -" he pointed a finger at Aya. "We have a special surprise for you."

Aya watched as one by one men came and knelt in front of the women and tried talking to them. Some were nice and tried to coax the women. Others were not. They simply grabbed the women and hauled them to their feet.

"WE HAVE 3 RULES HERE," Butch said to the group, "We do not steal here. You take what is not yours and there will be hell to pay. We do not kill here. If you kill someone you will be tortured and then killed. As you can see there's not a lot of stuff to keep us occupied, so you're torture will be the only entertainment and we can get creative. And last, we do not rape here." Some of the women visibly relaxed, "unless you have a mate. You women are property and belong to him." The horror on the women's face caused Butch to start laughing.

Butch walked over to Aya, "but we have a special surprise for you." Aya gulped wondering if they were going to demonstrate how to torture and kill someone. She looked around and as more and more of the girls were paired off it was evident that no one was coming to Aya. Everyone was watching her curiously and finally a big burly man seemed to appear out of nowhere with a wolf. Aya took an involuntary step back. The wolf was big and scary. He (the wolf, Aya didn't know it was a she) looked around the group and then settled down next to the big man who was sitting on a tree stump.

"SVEN, buddy, glad you could finally make it," Butch said with obvious mock sincerity. He motioned for Aya and she shook her head missing whatever Sven said which caused Butch to go from mock nice to straight cold. "But we have a gift for you."

Aya was pushed forward and all eyes landed on her. The wolf's head raised momentarily to stare and then went back to lay on his paws. Sven's eyes roamed over Aya and he glanced at Butch confusion etched on his face. "Sven, buddy, every time we do this you decline to put in an order. Some of us were concerned you were ... fucking your dog." The wolf actually growled as though she understood and Aya's eyes grew even bigger. "So we got you a replacement. A human replacement."

Butch suddenly grabbed Aya and pushed her towards Sven making her fall to her knees. "You're welcome!"

Aya slowly got up more afraid of the much bigger, more unkept, beard for weeks, wild haired man in front of her. "I didn't ask for her," Sven said calmly.

"So you rather keep fucking a dog. I'm sure if you turn her around," Butch walked up to Aya and turned her back side to Sven. "It'll look the same. Might even feel the same."

Aya had enough of this man insulting her. She reared back and smacked the shit out of Butch making his head turn and the sound of the slap reverberated through out the camp. She even heard a few gasps and chuckles. Then she spit at Butch. "I'm not a dog you fucking piece of shit. Call me a dog one more time ..."

Butch took a step towards Aya, but stopped his eyes landing on Sven. "You all heard it," Butch said as he turned towards the group wiping his face. "He does not want this ... DOG!" Butch yelled. Aya looked around frustrated and she glanced at Sven who's eyes flickered to a shovel that was laying nearby. Aya slowly started to walk towards the shovel as Butch continued his rant, "IS THERE ANY MAN WHO WANTS THIS ... DOG," he spat.

A few men actually looked like they would make a move, but one glance at Butch immediately stopped them. Butch smiled. "Good, then we KILL HER!" He took two steps towards Aya, Aya's hands landed on the hilt of the shovel and she swung with all her might knocking Butch in the head. He staggered backwards a huge gash across his face, but the movies lied. He did not go down. Instead he looked angrier.

Aya turned and ran right towards Sven. Butch stopped and watched, but Aya ran past Sven into the darkness. "You let her go!" Butch asked Sven as he made no move to grab the girl as she fled.

Sven laughed. "Not my fucking problem."

Butch shook his head. Doesn't matter. She'll run into one of the sentries and be brought back. Butch walked over to his own wife who immediately brought him a beer and a plate of food. 10 minutes passed, then 15, Butch getting angrier and angrier. He walked over to a walkie-talkie and picked it up. He received an all clear from everyone. Sven started to laugh.

"Find her," Butch said. "Find her and bring her here. I want her death public! At once everyone began to move, but Sven.

Aya couldn't believe her luck. She was free and running into the wind her hair flowing behind her, her feet stepping painfully on rocks, but she didn't care. She knew once they caught her they would kill her. She couldn't get caught. Aya slipped on wet grass and it was a good thing too. When she slipped she heard a "huh" and she turned in the direction. She wouldn't have seen the guy standing a few feet away as he looked around in her direction. Aya picked up a rock and threw it in the opposite direction. The guy took a few steps that way and peered into the brush. Aya bolted and ran past, her fear making her feet fly across the grass. If she wasn't barefoot she was sure she would have made noise, but Butch had done her a favor tossing her heels. She still didn't forgive him.

Aya found a stream and splashed into it. She took big gulps of water not caring if she was gonna get sick as her throat burned. She had to get her breathing under control and think. Aya forced herself to calm down. She didn't know where she was at. She was never a girl scout so the stars in the sky didn't help. She only knew one thing. She was stuck in a camp with a bunch of kidnapping fucktards and ... they had a car! Aya looked back the way she had came. It was a straight path back. She could backtrack, get the keys, find the van and just drive.

Aya walked a few ways down in the water. If she learned anything from movies is that the water will mask your tracks. She stepped out and crouched ran back towards the camp. Several times she saw men in the distance and she had to stop so they wouldn't hear her or see her. She made it back to the camp and it was EMPTY! Aya almost yelped in joy. She went over to the building she was sure Butch left the keys. She was digging in the drawers and there! The key! She grabbed it and turned to see Sven leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, not looking upset at all, and the wolf laying down on the ground. Evidence they had been watching her for awhile and she hadn't heard them.

"A-are you going to kill me?" Aya asked raising her chin as tears came to her eyes. She refused to show weakness or that she was scared. She wasn't going to let the tears fall either. She gave a small glance for a weapon, but this man was much taller and broader than she was. She doubt she could get past him.

 

[Shadoleopard]

Sven sighs, hearing the crying, moaning women, and the raucously celebrating clan gathering as he walks from his home at the edge of the settlement’s defenses to the small fire pit at the center of the camouflaged opening. He had hoped Johnny’s any day would let him slip in, relax, and head out again while everything settled down. He tosses back a strong slug of white lightning, and a rip off a fat joint, watching the smoke curl towards the full moon when he slowly exhales. At least the new wives weren’t screaming this time. That was always jarring. It roused his fighting instinct. He always wanted to help, but what could he do, other than not partake himself? Besides, most seemed to end up relatively content after a while. The menfolk weren’t all assholes. They knew they had to sleep next to their wives, and everyone knew where the guns and knives were in the houses.

But the first night was never great. That had ever been the case. Not even a night back of peace. He agitatedly runs his hands through his hair, then over his face. He had cleaned up, but hadn’t had the energy to shave, or had anyone waiting to see him who would care. At least Butch and his goon squad will have something else to focus on instead of that, in Butch’s opinion, glaring deficit. Maybe the night will be quiet that way.

Besides, new eye candy around the camp never hurt. They were never that pretty the first night- beaten down, cowed, terrified, scratched and bruised up from a day or more of marching and weeks of travel… what was sexy about that? He mostly avoided looking at anyone too closely for the first day or two. None were ever for him anyway, so unlike the other men, he was never straining at the harness to get to them, nor did he even have the morbid curiosity and commiseration felt by the women that seemed to compel them to socialize. Or maybe it was compassion.

Every now and again he had made a new friend when additions had been made to the camp’s population. Unshockingly, it took a while, and was very rare. Then again. Sven’s reputation for solitude was earned. Most were scared of his size and quietness. He was never mean, but always came off just as predatory, intimidating, as Sugarfoot. When you had been kidnapped, taken hundreds or thousands of miles from all you had known or loved, specifically to be someone’s “wife” in some Deliverance shit prison in the mountains, where her new husband might just turn out to be a sadistic Dom serial raping murderer? It made sense they were wary of everyone. Certainly of him. He was even more terrifying, he was always assured, and sure. He tried to shrug it off, but he knew he was often seen as a monster. Even by some of his own clan. That was fine. Sugarfoot and his Gremmera liked him. How bad could he be?

Sven takes his usual spot just at the edge of the firelight, more gazing at the stars to preserve his vision than anything. He sits on the only stump really big enough for him, chopped by his Dad when he was thirteen and just starting to show his eventual size. A few of the others would use it is a two or even three person couple’s seat when he was not around. Sugarfoot comes to sit in her usual spot in the thick grass at his feet.He’d already made the rounds to say hi while checking in on the few people he spent any time with, and the several people he chose to help with food when he could. He and Sugarfoot had far lighter packs by the time they got back to their own abode and root cellar, but still had more than plenty.

Since he’d also already donated the buck to the communal stores, he decides to eventually smoke and put most of the fresh game away, but he and Sugarfoot will indeed eat particularly well for a long spell even after their donations. He muses about what to do the next day while meandering to his favorite seat. Maybe go fishing or mushroom hunting. Could still disappear for a week or two.

Sven is used to Butch’s blustering, and ignores his voice until he begins to shout. That was new. And quick. He always needed a few to help him along. Sven’s eyes narrow, looking over to see what’s causing the commotion. He’s surprised to see Butch staring venomously at a beautiful young black woman. No one asks for anyone not white. Ever. The elders have long discouraged it, and Butch near made it a mandate. So he looks at her quizzically, inspecting her closely.

She’s gorgeous. Clearly not cowed. Challenging Butch with fire to match his venom. Her eyes sparkle. He can’t help but admire her hourglass figure, appreciatively lingering on her thick, childbearing hips, large breasts, and luscious lips. He momentarily thinks about how her hair would contrast the skin of his hands running through it. Then he mentally slaps himself. She’s a person. And someone else’s intended. And something strange is going on. Butch is way further into his usual monologue than he should be.

That is when Sven notices Aya’s gaze on him, and her short movement backwards. He wonders whether she fears him, his companion, or both. No. Horror. Terror. Revulsion is what he is sure he sees.He looks at her impassively, careful to hide his wolfish grin that would have masked his cringe.

Just as he is careful not to snap a reply when Butch calls him buddy. The man still has power and friends. They’re usually relatively careful to not rub each other too wrong too publicly, but Butch had been ramping it up the last few years. If it wouldn’t be more trouble than it is worth…

Sugarfoot feels his agitation, growls, debating if it is time to finally lunge between the large, smelly, mean one’s legs and not stop biting and tearing until he stopped moving yet. She still couldn’t understand why Sven hadn’t challenged the pack leader yet. When she feels Sven’s soothing fingers gliding through her fur, her hackles relax. Not yet then. She pointedly ignores Butch, instead paying attention to the strange notpack that was watching them so intently. She, and she’s clearly a she- Sugarfoot can smell her readiness even if she couldn’t see her- is much darker than the rest of Sven’s pack. If Sven didn’t clearly need the soothing presence of her soft fur and tail thumping against his leg, she might even investigate. But then the pack leader sends the pack’s newest bitch sliding forward onto her knees, almost right into Sven and Sugarfoot. Her senses are assaulted. Car. People. City. Not-home layered with a hike through the mountains Sugarfoot was raised in. Fear. Anger. Shock. Prey scent. But they had absorbed another pack. That was normal. But her defiance makes Sugarfoot certain to not expose throat or belly to the new bitch. She does give a polite hello sniff/whuff.

Sven blinks, shock making his mouth drop a fraction just a moment. What? “I didn’t order her. She can't be mine.”

He stares down into Aya’s eyes, near entranced. He can’t think of anything but to repeat that. He hopes she believes that. He wouldn’t put someone through this. But this beautiful woman on her knees is his for the taking. He just has to claim her. But there’s reasons he never asked.

Before he can say or do anything, Butch yanks her around so she is presenting for Sven, who can only continue to stare, now at her ass. At least half that is because he half wants to strangle Butch. In part because he keeps calling Sugarfoot a dog, knowing the insult he intends. He also doesn’t particularly like the insult of beastiality, or Butch’s other favorite- that he must be a virgin if not. He’s near done with Butch’s shit. He takes a deep breath, but before he can reply or do anything, Aya rears up from between Sven's legs like a wrathful goddess, hitting Butch hard enough to make him reel back.

It was the wrong move, though. Sven sees it, Butch turning meaner. As Butch continues to rant, he can only think, 'I just said I didn’t ask for her. I didn’t actually say no. Yet.' Of course he would, but hadn’t had the chance. Yet. ‘Jumping ahead as usual, eh Butch? You stupid fuck?’ His mind keeps circling through incredulity and anger at the continued mocking. Sven eyes the spade near him sticking out of the dirt pile used to ensure the fire is out after the gatherings. It would be so easy to grab it, and shut Butch up forever. They'd all learn not to insult Sugarfoot again. Or at least think about it for a few hours. Once again though, he marvels, the strange black woman in front of him seems to read his mind, and does just what he wants to before sprinting past Sven into the night, seeming to bounce in slow motion, movements fluid.

Sven finally loses his composure, shrugging and laughing uproariously, barely getting out, “Not my fucking problem. I just got back from a multi-week hunt. You’re right. Hilarious surprise, though, -buddy-.” He proceeds to relax, drink, smoke, and finally ignore Butch entirely. He can’t help but think about the strange woman. She’s fucked now. Butch made sure no one would take her. He could take her as a second wife now. Or do exactly as he said. Rape and torture her until he was bored, and finally had enough revenge for not only the gash, but his humiliation.

She likely wouldn’t even make it past the perimeter. But then five minutes goes by. Ten. Fifteen. There’s nowhere to run for hundreds of miles, but she shouldn’t have gotten anywhere. Everyone breaks up when Butch gives the order to hunt. The womenfolk and children return to their homes while the men head out. Sven takes his time, ensuring the fire is out. As he meanders towards his house he is shocked to see a shadow darting between buildings. What a clever lil thing. Double back to where they’d look first before spreading out. He trails her, silent as a ghost, curious what she’ll do. She heads straight for Butch’s house. He follows her, but does not cross the threshold of the house. That invites unneeded drama, and goes against unwritten codes of the community. He’s confused, watching her ass shake, hearing her light panting as she frantically searches the small living room and attached kitchen, until she turns around with the keys. She looks wild, soaked, every curve of her body embellished. He drinks her in until her words break the spell.

He lets his predatory grin slide fully onto his face when she starts looking for a defense, clears his throat, voice still rough from disuse, “Nope. Why would I? Even if you were supposed to be my “surprise gift”. Not my monkey, circus, or shit to clean up. I’m not even gonna hurt ya unless you hurt me or her. Well… try anyway. I’m just passin’ by on my way home over yonder, and heard a commotion."

He looks down at Sugarfoot, then slowly back up along her body. “I have no reason or desire to help you either. If you escaped long enough, since we're the best and Butch's favorites couldn't stop a lone woman, the whole settlement would ask us to make sure you couldn’t expose us… and we’d find you. Bring you, or your corpse, back, and then you'd not be our problem any more again. Butch will ghost you, though. He meant it. You’ll die slow. Horribly slow. You should’ve either finished him or just taken what he was dishing. We don't actually usually go with death around here. You mighta irked him just a liiiiil."

He strokes his scraggly stubble slowly, "Rather clever doubling back, but you should’ve gone for weapons first. You wasted a good ten minutes looking for keys you can’t use. In Butch’s house. They walked you in circles for miles and miles before bringing you in. It is dark, and they ain’t –utterly- stupid. The van you came in? Well camouflaged, dozens of miles away. They move it after droppin’ y’all off. We’re two hundred miles of hard terrain from the ass end of anywhere. They always get city girls, so I doubt you could even survive the two weeks in the deep woods to get out of our mountains even if you weren’t being tracked. Hunted.”

He continues speaking calmly, quietly. He has no reason to threaten or scare her, but he is blocking her one way out, and told her she is utterly cornered. He mentally prepares to be attacked or at least rushed. She has proven to be extremely unpredictable. He hasn’t been this entertained in town for years. He can’t help but plot out the different ways he’d try to escape, what he might do in her place, while finishing his drink in one long shot. “I’d use your name, but I don’t know it yet. You may or may not have paid attention to this bit, but my name is Sven. My night was going to be quiet. Relaxing. Peaceful even. Just me and my girl here, mostly. But you’ve made it quite interesting. So, what’s next gorgeous?”

 

[La_Reina]

Aya took a small breath of air and visibly relaxed a bit when the big burly man in front of her said he wouldn't kill her. That didn't mean he wouldn't hurt her, but it almost looked as though he would let her go. This could be too good to be true. Her hopes were quickly dashed when he advised he had no desire to help her and her horror grew when he seemed to threaten her. That if she escaped he'll be forced to hunt her down and, his voice seemed to deepen or maybe that was just her imagination, bring her back... dead or alive.

Aya gulped and took a small step back. He talked about death so naturally. Even suggested she should have "finished" off Butch and Aya shook her head in denial. She didn't think she could do this. Why was she so cheeky in the damn bank? Her damn mouth was going to get her in trouble, no ... worse - killed!

Aya missed most of what he said as he scratched his beard. She did not miss how the keys she was holding was utterly useless. The vehicle was no longer there. She sighed and her shoulders dropped as she tossed the keys back on the counter. She looked around for a weapon trying to be discrete as possible as he continued talking. She was well aware time was passing and that he was more than likely stalling her. Aya just knew she had to get the hell out of here.

Aya's head snapped up when he asked her name. Maybe she could get him to take pity on her. Maybe he was her way out. "Sven, I'm Aya..." she hesitated a bit. "You could just let me go and when they get you to find me you could just say you couldn't? Or ... or .. or make it look like a bear or jungle cat whatever, ate me. I don't care. Just .. please." Aya's voice cracked. She was running out of time.

Just then a small creak came from behind and Aya gave a small scream and actually took a step towards Sven. She was well within his grasp. Aya turned and saw a woman. She stared at Aya with pity and a really sad expression that Aya almost went to her to comfort her. It took everything within Aya to stay her ground.

"He can't or won't. The men in this town are ... honorbound or something. Butch will be back soon." She began cleaning up the mess Aya made as though her life depended on it. As she got closer Aya realized her life probably did depend on it as a bruise was just starting to heal under her left eye. Aya gasped.

"Yeah, I should thank you." Mel said bitterly, "You pissed him off, so bad he forgot about me. I had a night to just be alone," her voice was so soft. "You have two choices. You can run and get killed or you find a man who would claim you." Aya's eyes hardened, but Mel kept talking. "I had ran plenty of times, but they always find you; but when Butch found me he didn't kill me just made me wish for death. There are some decent men here and then there are others like Butch. I know just about all of them are scared of Sven here .. as you can see." Mel waved her hand indicating Sven.

Mel wiped down the counter and looked over everything critically making very minute changes. "I'm sorry you're here. I'm sorry they took you. I'm sorry I'm hoping they find you, so I don't get beat again. I won't tell Butch you were in his home... uninvited. That'll get you killed if he hasn't already decided your fate. He doesn't like people here and you heard the rules. You were going to steal the keys. I won't protect you either. If he asks I'll tell him."

There was a sound from outside and Mel went to the window. She looked in the distance and visibly sighed. "Get out before he comes back! I would talk to Brian down the creek or Bryan down in the woods. Both are decent men who haven't taken a woman yet. They both might be 17, but here that's when a man is a man. Or you can try Riley, but he's dumb as shit he won't hurt you, but he won't protect you either. None of them will, but if you just do as your told you won't need protecting."

Mel was starting to look anxious and that had Aya rushing out the door as Sven stepped back. "I don't want to be claimed," Aya protested.

"Then you chose death," Mel said and closed the door on Aya and Sven.

"I don't want to die," Aya said and looked at Sven. He wasn't close and she couldn't outrun the wolf dog, but she didn't need to; not at first. Sven said he'll let her go, but like a sick twisted freak he would hunt her down. Aya turned towards the woods. She didn't have on shoes, her clothes were ripped, and she was damn near exhausted. Pure adrenaline and terror was keeping her up, but that wasn't going to last long.

 

[Shadoleopard]

Before he can answer, Mel steps into the room. Aya steps towards him, so he gives her plenty of room, standing sideways against the doorsill, treating her like a wildling. Sven takes another puff, blowing smoke off the porch, and nods in Mel’s direction politely. She speaks softly, instead of alerting the settlement to the intrusion. She could scream, try to get on Butch’s good side that way. Instead, calmly, quietly, she explains how things are, as he had been trying to do, while erasing the signs Aya had been there. His empty hand clenches seeing the bruise around Mel’s eye. He had been the cause, and unable to rectify it. Other people paid when he pushed Butch too far. Things always get messier whenever Sven loses his temper. He has to remember that. He had never had to go after Mel. Butch enjoyed it too much. Luckily, Sven had only ever had to track one other person, and they had gotten lost, not tried to run. He much preferred hunting game.

He listens quietly, eyebrows raised as she describes the men of the area. He almost protests. Yeah, some are afraid of him, but the kids play with him, and while he’s careful as hell to not let there be any smidge of impropriety or alone time with a woman where it could be inferred, most of the settlement’s ladies seemed to be ok with him. Hell, he’d thought Mel actually liked him. Not that she’d ever be stupid enough to say so anywhere Butch might find out. But… She isn’t wrong. Most people probably are wary of him. Then again, he always liked his distance, anyway. She seems to look at him oddly when she continues. Intently. But it isn’t fear he sees for just a moment. He is surprised she mentions the Bries. It was a well-known “secret” they were a couple, which was the only reason they hadn’t gotten wives upon this, their year of majority. Most of the menfolk had been present for Butch’s rant. So Mel had seen how they reacted. She was right. A man could stand up for his wife. Butch could challenge, though. If he wanted. Or dared. Most wouldn’t dare argue with Butch, knowing they’d lose in a fight, or probably face a series of them, and other harassments.

He cocks his head, listening intently when the fear in her eyes intensifies, but hears nothing, nor does he see anyone approaching. He nearly stumbles backward as Aya is shooed out the door all but into his chest, his attention caught by the weird glance Mel shoots him over Aya’s head. He barely catches himself, then takes a few more steps back.

He never was good at reading people. It wasn’t like he could just ask Mel what was up. Then he sees Aya starting to turn towards the woods again. “Stop, Aya. Please? Think a minute. Let me think a minute. Catch your breath. It is never a good idea to run off willy-nilly. You have no shoes. You’re clearly undernourished, just spent the last while scrambling through the woods after a day long march. You’ve gotta fight the panic, be rational. Survival mode. You had a twenty minute head start before they got serious looking.”

He looks down and away from Aya as the door closes behind them. It isn’t the smartest thing, she could attack, but he doesn’t like the way she’s terrified of him. She asked him to fake her death before they were interrupted. He thinks about it, softly saying, half to himself, “No one wants to die… Aya… matches your beauty. Like a jungle cat. Speaking of... We don't -have those-. We have mountain lions. Hm… You got away? No… I’m not nearly incompetent enough. Hell, most of them aren't. This is how we live. What skills have you? Can you forage? Make tools? I bet you didn’t even hide your tracks as you ran. You couldn’t have gotten far down or upstream as short a while as you were gone. You came in here leaving all kinds of evidence. I’d have you in under a day. We don’t even really have the kinds of bears here that would eat you. Ours are more likely to run. Even if I did try to stage that… I don’t think you want to lose limbs for “proof”. Besides, we don’t leave corpses to waste away in the woods. Someone could wander through. So where would I get a body? … The Bries are fucking gay.I mean, they just might treat you like a sister. And almost everyone saw you infuriate Butch. She couldn’t mean…? I don’t want a fucking wife who doesn’t want me. Doesn’t even like me. Let alone one who has gazed upon me with terror every time I’ve seen her watching me.”

….but no matter how he twists and wrangles it, he can’t see a way around what Mel said. There are two options. One way she lives. The other she dies. He has to choose. Not just him, but arguably his choice could be the last nail in her coffin. She wouldn’t even get one if he made that choice. The more he thinks about it… “Look, you’re here because of me. This … surprise is his idea of a joke, because I piss him off. That makes this kind of my fault, even though I tried to stay out of it. Even though I always have. My mama taught me better. Daddy taught me better. Books taught me better. I’m supposed to meet someone, fall mutually head over heels in love with someone who chooses to be with me for me, lose my cherry making love to my new wife in –OUR- bed, after carrying her over our threshold, and build a life. But… You coming back means I can’t just stay out of it, and we both have a choice to make.”

He shakes his head, chuckling ruefully. “My mama said don’t take a wife for the wrong reasons. Should be for love. Someone I cherish, want to build a home and family with. Here I am, late twenties, still alone… But she’d beat my ass if she saw me just let you get tortured to death by Butch. Not, even indirectly, because of me. My goading made him even angrier, and you did something I’ve been dying to. Might even leave him a good scar I’ll get to look at for years to come. Ya know… By our rules… I didn’t actually decline you, yet. If I claimed you… you’d be safe from him. Could come to my house, get some food and drink, even sleep in a warm bed as safe as anyone in the settlement with Sugarfoot and I there to protect you. As Mel pointed out so …pointedly? Even Butch and his sycophants don’t mess with me. They're terrified of me. I’ve got some warm, though old, clothes and shoes left from Mama and Gremmera. You could run tomorrow- but it’d be the same outcome. I can’t directly help you, and no offense, but you can’t escape. As my responsibility being my new wife, I’d have to come after you sooner. Or you can live. Here. But tied to me. Mine. I mean, I’d be yours, too, with all that that would entail, but… there it is.”

He takes a massive rip, trying to settle within himself if he can or should ask what he’s thinking. What he’s offering. Well, he hasn’t blatantly offered yet, but she should read the implication, right? Maybe she sees a different option that won’t get either of them killed by his own clan. Then again, people are always inferring the wrong shit. He can’t read her expression, and it bothers him. What’s more, he doesn’t enjoy his own inner conflict. He doesn’t like that Butch has managed to fuck him over, again. He feels like an animal trapped in a cage. Probably a lil like Aya. He exhales slowly, absentmindedly offering her the joint, unable to think of anything else to do, suddenly aware he has been monologuing a bit, and wanting to hear her thoughts before he continues.

 

[La_Reina]

Aya was grasping at straws as she continued to throw ideas at him and he found an excuse in each and every one of why it wouldn't work. Aya even grabbed her arm as though she feared he would take it when he mentioned she losing a limb, but he didn't seem to notice and kept going as though he was thinking of a way to help her. As he continued she began to realize he actually was fucking trying to help her. He was legitimately thinking of ways he could help her escape. She listened to Sven talk more to himself than anything as he dialogue how he could get her out of this mess.

Aya knew he wasn't talking to her, but she kept her chatter on the side trying to help him get the solution, "Bries gay ... I made Butch very mad ... You don't want a wife ... She doesn't like you ... She's scared of you ..." Aya nodded and shook her head appropriately. "She's not here. I don't know who she's is. But you can do this, Sven. I believe in you."

Sven grew silent and looked at her. Ava couldn't look away. He had gorgeous eyes and they were staring at her intently. This gorgeous eyed Paul Bunyan was going to save her life. He thought of the answer and the way he was looking serious it was going to take a lot and she might not like it, but he was going to fucking save her. She just knew it. She was going to escape this hell hole.

Aya nodded as he took full blame for her being there. She fought the urge to tell him it was her fault, because she humiliated Butch in the bank and that's why he took her. If having Sven feel guilty for her being here is his motivation to help her escape she would gladly let him carry that guilt. Then he started talking about his mother and love and she was completely lost, but whatever he needed to tell her to get her out of there she was willing to listen.

Aya continued nodding as he explained they both had a choice. Then he started talking about his mother again and Aya wasn't sure what role is mother was going to play so she kept slowly nodding. Aaaaaaaaaand he was talking about their fucked up society's rules. She kept nodding listening and then when he stopped talking she could only continue nodding. She didn't understand what the escape plan was. She replayed his words in her head and then it dawned on her.

Aya took a step back. He wanted to claim her. That was his plan? "YOU WANT TO CLAIM ME. CLAIM LIKE BE YOUR PROPERTY. LIKE A SLAVE!"

Sven looked aghast, disgusted, infuriated, and shocked all at the same time. "WHAT?! NO. CLAIM LIKE WIFE! MATE! PARTNER!"

Hold up. Aya stopped and that would be twice he said wife. So this claiming a person was their equivalent way of taking a wife. That made sense. What they were doing wasn't legal and it seemed here that whatever a person claimed it was theirs. Hillbilly Bullshit. Aya took a deep breath and thought about it staring intently at Sven. As she stared she realized she wasn't scared. Infact, she was the exact opposite and it almost seemed like HE was the one afraid... or anxious. Marriage was a big deal. She had .. no, she wasn't going to go down that road..

Sven offered her his joint and Aya took it absentmindedly and totally at ease. She inhaled deeply and held the smoke in her lungs while handing him back the joint. It was almost as if this was any other Saturday night with a friend, getting high, and trying to figure a way out; and the only way out was the guy to marry the friend, or the fucked up villain, would kill the friend. Aya started cough laughing. She couldn't catch her breath which caused her to cough, and her thinking how ridiculous this all was caused her to laugh. Aya was really exhausted. This should not have been funny.

"Is that how you're supposed to propose to your new wife," Aya joked. She had a dark sense of humor and honestly. He was right. Butch was afraid of Sven and the town wouldn't bother her or try to kill her. She would be his wife and in the meantime she'll learn those things Sven said. How to cover her tracks, set traps, and wherever the fuck she is. She just needed to buy time.

"Shouldn't you get down on one knee?" Aya smiled broadly and a bit shyly wondering if he would catch she was joking. Was he even the joking type?

Suddenly, Butch and the others came around the corner. "We heard your yells Sven and we heard her coughing and hacking." Butch stopped a few feet from them. His eyes intent on Aya. "You get her good Sven, you get that biii..."

Aya was not going to let him call her bitch or dog again. She cut him off, "My mate wouldn't like you calling me a dog." Just as Aya thought Butch immediately stopped and looked at Sven his words lost in his throat.

"No..."

"Yes!" Aya yelled. "Sven asked me to be his mate. His partner. His wife! HE CLAIMED ME!" Aya screamed the last part almost shrilly. She was really, really, exhausted. "Didn't you Sven?" Aya looked at Sven and everyone seemed to wait for his words. The silence almost deafening. Sven, the man who seemed to have sworn off woman. Sven who didn't ever look at any of the women in a sexual way. Sven the scary motherfucker that they sometimes told their kids would get them if they were bad. Sven ... a mate?

 

[Shadoleopard]

He tries to figure out how to explain what he meant clearer when she doesn’t seem to understand he is referring to her. Her terror. Her clear, utterly reasonable, seeming dislike. Then dawning horror and disgust fill her eyes. That hurts. But she still misunderstands. He can’t help it. He never wanted a slave. Just a Lifemate. A partner. Like wolves had. Like his mama and papa had. He still doesn't. It is the only reason he is single. The disgust and frustration bleed through his own tone- he doesn’t even totally realize his voice is rising. He almost apologizes again. But then- then- she seems to get it. That he means what he said.

She stares at him like she’s trying to delve into his soul. He can’t blame her. Whatever she does, there is massive risk. He relaxes when she takes the joint, hits it deeply, clearly still thinking- but she doesn’t seem nearly as intense, or afraid of him. That is progress at least. Then she laughs. The beautiful sound peals through the empty yard, before cutting off into coughing. She recovers before he can do much with his shock, and looks him in the eyes again, a glint gleaming there as she quips about his proposal. He isn’t sure what he’s hearing. His new wife? Does that mean she… was accepting his proposal? Well, he hadn't proposed in the traditional sense- but he had proposed a course of action.

He blushes deeply, taking the joint back, using a long rip to get a moment to think, deciding to reply in a similarly joking manner, a grin plastering itself across his face. “I wouldn’t really know. Most around here don’t do much asking. The books say so, but I figured they were just guidelines for a –normal- situation. I don’t even have a ring picked out, or my mama’s in hand to offer. You'd almost think I just got outta the woods, and am as unprepared as you for... all this.” He brings the joint to his lips, taking another puff. Before he can hand it to her, Sugarfoot snarls, coming to her feet.

Butch and his lackeys come tearing through the center of town, hooting and hollering. Sven is confused as hell. How is he getting anyone good? They must not have heard him well. Clearly. Did they think he had been strangling her and yelling for help? Once again, Aya gives Butch hell before he can. It is his turn to snort, then hack up his lungs when she defiantly announces he is her mate. Not even that she is his. He's hers.

Welp, that answers that question, and she’s right. He doesn’t like hearing his new wife referred to that way. But. She seems to be handling herself well enough, so he watches and waits, enjoying the look of shock, confusion, and anger on Butch’s still bloody face.

He grins again, passing her the joint when she finishes speaking, asking him to confirm her claims, “Welll, unlike a few jackasses around here, I was kinda in the process of seeing how she felt about the idea when y’all returned. I’d floated the idea. You’ll note, I didn’t revoke any claim to her earlier. I just said I didn’t ask for her. Noted that as such, she wasn’t my problem when she took her shot at you and ran. You did kidnap her as a joke “gift”, so can’t really blame her for that. It appears I’ve been claimed by her. And yeah. Yeah, I think I do Claim her. I wasn’t expecting a wife. Certainly not one the polar opposite of me. I didn’t really want one this way, but since you literally presented me with such a beautiful, funny, spunky gift... “buddy”… This woman, Aya, is mine! I Claim her, as she has already also proclaimed I am her mate. By our laws she is mine to do as I wish with. Any of you have issues with her, come see me first. And no- no I would not like that namecalling at all. Never –ever- call her dog or bitch. Just like if I hear y’all call Sugarfoot a dog again, there will be issues. She’s a bitch, but she’s my bitch, and she ain’t no dog. I didn’t get the chance to speak on it earlier, but I’ve had enough. Unless y’all want to challenge about anything. Of course. Then, as always, might makes right, and you can do as you wish. As always, I stand ready. Or y’all can get back to partying, or go back home to your own wives while I show Aya here, my new wife, her new home, as we finish this j. I’m pretty beat.” He grins, looking down at Butch's beaten face, the signs on him and the rest of a scramble through dark woods searching for quarry that was no longer there.

Butch looks apoplectic, ready to explode. The rest look stunned. They don’t know what to do. Butch clearly wants her head. They thought they were going to have a lot of fucked fun at her expense, and here’s the one fucker able and willing to stop Butch in his tracks. To beat him without lifting a finger.

Butch snarls, but decides to get a last shot in as he steps to the side, as though ushering them towards Sven’s house. “Welll, shiiit. Who am I to stop a man from finally popping his cherry? Or getting’ it popped as dominant as she seems to be, doing your talkin’ for ya, buddy. Since you claim you never fucked your … bitch, there, guess we’d better let you enjoy your wedding night. We should really celebrate this Culling biiiig tomorrow then, when all the new husbands present their wives to the clan- and the proof of their Claiming. Our settlement’s oldest bachelor in history finally claimed some fuckmeat of his own. Finally gonna do his dutyyy, add to our population. Maybe you’ll calm down some. Be more sociable getting your dick wet regularly.”

Sven’s eyes harden. Gods be damned, he wants to smash the fucker in the mouth even through the soothing effects of the pot. Then Mel’s bruised eye floats through his mind. “Again. Wife. My new wife. Not my fuckmeat, bitch, or any other slur that you come up with. My. Wife. Aya.”

 

[La_Reina]

Aya was getting nervous though she tried her best to hide it. She felt he was taking too long to answer, but as she gazed closer to his face she saw he was letting the silence lapse on purpose. Or maybe there was no lapse and she was so damn tired a second felt like an eternity. Hell, she wanted to start laughing, but that could be the buzz from the joint. Finally, he spoke and she found she liked the gruffness of his voice. The weed intensified everything for her; her hearing picked up all sounds for example. It was like the world was really, really loud and deafening, but his gruff voice was soothing and actually helped.

She gave a small start when he said she claimed him. She hadn't even said yes to his proposal, but then again she did just tell Butch and his cronies she was his mate; so she guessed she did claim him. She was so tired, nothing was making sense and yet everything was making sense. She inched her head a bit higher and waited for him to get to his fucking point of yes, she was claimed and couldn't be killed. Shit, for such a solitude man he seemed very verbose.

It could have been the weed, but she turned to him slowly. What did he mean one that was the polar opposite of him? Did he mean he being white and she being black? Or was it because she spoke her mind and smacked Butch with a garden utensil? Then again he seemed to enjoy that part of her, so what exactly or how exactly were they so different?! Then he called her beautiful, funny, and spunky and Aya couldn't help her smile. Awww he thought she was cute.

Aya knew it was the weed now as she felt like floating. Or maybe it was the pure exhaustion coursing through her body. Or maybe it was both, but right now she felt pretty damn good. Coupled that with the fact she wasn't going to die tonight .. she was sure Sven wasn't going to let anyone kill her. Then he confirmed it by saying any issues with her had to be addressed to him. She so wanted to balk on that saying they could come to her directly or kiss her ass, but she was in the backwoods. She was going to have to set her pride to the side.

Aya nodded her head as though to say 'Yeah!' and took the joint from Sven. She inhaled deeply her breasts rising in the night hair, her hair hung loosely and a bit wildly down her back as she looked to the sky and held the smoke in her loungs. She was unaware that a small portion of her stomach was showing or her tits were thrust out into the night. Nope, she was enjoying the smoke and began coughing handing the joint back to Sven.

Aya heard the horrid noise coming from Butch and she turns in his direction as he stepped to the side and revealed that Sven is a virgin! Her eyes grew wide as she looked to Sven then to Butch and back again. A virgin! No, way! Did he think she was a virgin? She hoped not. She wanted Butch to shut the fuck up as she had to figure out what to do. Would she become unclaimed if they found out she was not a virgin? Were all those other women virgins? Aya shook her head slightly towards herself. That would be unlikely. Hell, one of the other women had said she already had a fiance' and though she could be a virgin it was highly unlikely she was.

"WHAT?!" Aya said shocked etched across her face. "Present their new wives? Proof of claiming?" Aya looked at Sven as Butch snickered and the rest of his pals laughed following his lead.

"What does that mean Sven?" Aya asked the pure horror in her voice couldn't be mistaken. Was she expected to fuck him?

Sven didn't hear her or maybe he ignored her as he told Butch she was his wife. Not some piece of ass. That made Aya feel slightly better. Butch and the others merely smirked and they all seemed to think she was repulsed by Sven. They kept saying stupid things like, 'Bet you $5 he can't bed her tonight,' and 'look at her face. Can't blame her. Wouldn't want that in my bed,' and other things that swirled in Aya's head. The pure exhaustion that threatened to knock her completely out, the weed that was swirling through her system, and the pure hatred for this men and the others had Aya walking before she even knew it. If they needed proof that Sven had claimed her, more than just his fucking words, than she was going to do it. She wasn't going to die tonight. She wasn't going to die tomorrow night either.

She didn't realize she was standing right in front of Sven until she heard the small curious bark from Sugarfoot. She looked at Sugarfoot and smiled and the wolf cocked her head to the side curiously. Aya looked up at Sven and went to her tiptoes, but she was still too short. She was going for a kiss, but she couldn't do it without him meeting her halfway. He was too tall. Slightly embarrassed she asked instead, "What does proof of claiming mean?"

 

[Shadoleopard]

There’s that horror in her eyes again. What did he really expect? He thought, with her quipping, that she had adjusted her view of him. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe it was just a defense, and the jibes of Butch and his friends are right. It is all he can do not to flinch, or look away. He refuses to show any weakness. He accepts the joint, ripping it like a blunt. He said what he needed to say to them, and while they’re giving him hell, they aren’t saying the all important phrases that would indicate a fight. He’s both too high, and not high enough for this shit.

Then Aya is all but pressed against him, rising up on the tips of her toes. He exhales sharply, smoke curling over her head. He almost shies away, but there is a look far different from horror or fury in her eyes. She seems determined. Then she looks embarrassed a moment, but doesn’t retreat in the least. She’s so close he can barely feel her large breasts against him, feel her warm breath in the cool air. Her scent surrounds him, mixing pleasantly with the pot. For a moment, the rest of the world disappears. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Or the rest of his body. How is he supposed to respond? She clearly wishes to be very close. For something. But what? He leans down, wondering if she wants to say something quietly.

Then her earlier question breaks through again. Before Butch can say something crassly inaccurate without context, Sven speaks in a rush, words tumbling over each other “Uh… It’d be easier if we talked about this stuff at home, but… old, olllldddd traditions. Could be considered kinda messed up outside a man’s man’s culture, but that all depends. Things have gotten much more relaxed over the centuries. Think of it like Native Americans going on a successful raid. If no one has come after us for a day or three, we’re likely in the clear. Literally, we gather the whole clan tomorrow night. You introduce yourself. Or the new husbands present their new wives. Or, um, say they don’t think things will resolve well, and are revoking their claim. Then things get, uh, dark. Hell, in Butch’s case, it got dark anyway. He decided to prove he claimed her biblically, as was pretty common in different cultures through history. He presented Mel bruised, naked, and dripping cum.”

He takes a deep breath, shakes his head, tries to wipe the image from his mind. He had been young when he’d seen that. It still haunts him. “ –BUT-, that is not really common these days. Not even here. Things differ depending on the couple. It just shows the new wife nominally accepts her new reality, or that the man is in control enough it won’t matter. But it could be as simple as making a commitment to each other verbally, and sharing a kiss in front of everyone. Supposedly, my mother and grandmother did … interesting things. Gremmera grabbed my grandfather’s crotch, said, ‘I’m Matilda. Nice to meet y’all. Everything of mine is his, and everything of his is mine.’ and that was that, because he grinned, nodded, and seemed quite content. We’ll figure out something. Together.”

 

[La_Reina]

Aya stayed close listening to Sven. Her focus was entirely on this man and again she was lost in his eyes. His beard wasn't too bad if not unkempt. She wondered what it would look like if he tapered it. Not necessarily trimmed it, but cleaned it up a bit. She slowly blinked the weed floating through her system and her extreme exhaustion making it harder for her eyes to open. Hell even now her eyes were slits.

Normally, she would have been repulsed by what he was saying, but she was too ... numb or floaty to think anything except to accept it. When he mentioned Butch she almost turned her head, but stopped herself. She was not going to give that fucker the satisfaction of knowing he was again effecting her or having any thought in her/their new life.

She actually chuckled when he talked about his grandmother. She sounded fierce, determined, and apparently really accepted this life. She wondered what his mother did? Were all the women kidnapped or born? No, some were born she had saw little girls playing earlier when she 1st arrived. She liked that he came from a family of women who didn't back down. It made sense why he wasn't put off by her.

Except ... she had a secret. One she was NOT going to think about now. Yet, the harder she tried not to think about it. The more she kept thinking about it. It didn't help that weed always had 2 effects on her it made her sleepy and if just the slightest touch horny. Right now her nipples were brushing against his chest and she could tell, even though he was a bigger thicker man it was mostly muscle. Hell, being this close he smelled of outside and she could see what others would mistake as extra fat and girth was muscle and strength. This man was strong!

Aya took a step back. She stumbled a bit as her mind and body wasn't functioning right. She yawned loudly and during the yawn her eyes closed. She almost passed out on her feet and swayed. She quickly opened her eyes and reached out to study herself. She wondered when she was close to a pillar and when she looked over it was Sven. She laughed to herself which was actually out loud. She saw the confused looks on the cronies faces as to them she just suddenly burst out laughing. She could see a few guys start to laugh; she had such a contagious laugh. She knew it wasn't just the weed, but pure exhaustion that was confusing her. There was nothing funny.

"That sounds nice," she slurred as her head started to roll back and her eyes drifted close.

Aya heard Sugarfoot give a whimper and she slowly lolled her head down to look at the wolf. "Hi, do you know how beautiful you are?" Yup, she was talking to the wolf. "if i pet you will you bite me?" Aya didn't make a move to pet the wolf. The wolf just stared at her and Aya was caught up in the human-like eyes of Sven's pet. She slowly blinked as her breathing grew heavier and heavier..

 

[Shadoleopard]

Sven can hardly believe Aya presses even tighter to him. The soft squish of her chest. Her hardened nipples. Wait. Hard? No, she’s soaked, and it is cool. Nevermind. She’s looked at him with horror. He is just a way out, not an object of attraction. Then he sees her swaying, eyes closing. When she starts to fall the first time, he makes sure he is in her trajectory. Now she’s not just close, but grabbing him, and looking over her shoulder laughing, then looking down at Sugarfoot.

“So are you,” he murmurs, then speaks up, “She rarely bites. But she will warn-“

Before he can finish, Aya is lolling, sliding against him again. He drops the joint as he bends just enough to catch her, cradling her against his chest protectively, one massive arm supporting her knees and ass, the other threading between her arms and back. The others are ignored, all but forgotten. He focuses solely on her. She’s fairly light, small in his arms, showing the signs of her ordeal over the last week plus. She’s still breathing. He near lopes with her as he heads for home. “Open those beautiful eyes for me. That’s it.”

For the first time in his life he finds himself slightly regretful of how far he and Sugarfoot have to travel to get to their abode. She needs warmth. Food. Sleep. He isn’t sure how badly yet, or in exactly what order, but he can fix them all at home. He’s somewhat reassured when she slowly, lazily blinks up at him like a kitten. It’s adorable, but he is panicking far too hard to think about such at the moment. The panic sharpens his mind and senses, somewhat dispelling the effects of the weed. “Shouldn’t be cold enough for hypothermia, even soaked. Fuck, I’m an idiot. Shock. Exhaustion. And for all I know you have shit all tolerance for greenery. Dunno how the fuck I coulda got you inside earlier. Fuckers jabberin’, makin me talk too much. But fuck. This night was supposed to be relaxing.”

He takes the porch steps two at a time, shouldering the door open, heat from the fire place immediately bathing them. He stands there with her in his arms, thinking hard. He should put her to bed, but wet clothes certainly aren’t helping. He has to get her under the furs, and no one sleeps well in a cold, soaked spot. He looks down at her, trying to decide what’s next. She needs to get dry first. A shot of something strong might brace her at least for a little bit, then would help her sleep even better. But he needs his hands to do anything. He can set her down in a chair, but he isn’t sure she wouldn’t slide out of it bonelessly. “Hey. We’re home. Safe. Talk to me. Can you stand? Or at least sit? Are you lucid?”

 

[La_Reina]

It was a great dream. She was flying in the sky. Trees and stars whisking by above her. The steady pounding of footsteps and breathing ... didn't make sense in her dream and yet it did. Plus she felt warm, safe, and secure. She hadn't felt this way in a long time.

Hell, she was at the bank to get a loan (another one) for her business that was failing during these trying times for mom and pop businesses. She had found the perfect location, saved every penny and every dime, worked her ass off and when she opened she was making tons of money. The 1st 6 months she had defied the odds and was actually making money instead of losing it as most businesses when they first start. She was featured in New Business' magazines and was even thinking of expanding. Then a huge conglomerate company came in and did the same, exact, foods and desserts and could afford to undercut her. Every time she had a sale they came out with a better one. She was losing money and then she was owing money. She couldn't keep patrons or workers. She had sold her home and was sleeping at her business and to save on bills she rarely kept the heat on. She was going to lose her business and she had no one to help her. Her dream was turning into a nightmare and Aya gave a small groan of pain.

"Beautiful .. eyes ...?" she murmured, as her dream/nightmare came at her, but she could barely hear her own words. She slowly opened her eyes and she was flying again, but this time in her dream was Sven. He kept looking at her and she found herself mesmerized by those fucking eyes again. He had great eyes, kind eyes. He looked gruff, but it was those eyes that told her everything.

Oooh his voice! Aya didn't understand anything he was saying. Comprehension was beyond her, but his gruff, deep voice was fucking soothing. Why did he look worried? Did they fail and she wasn't safe and Butch and the others were going to kill her? He was the only one who helped her ... twice ... and she could trust him ... well as much as she could trust anyone here. Aya closed her eyes again. If she was going to die she didn't want to see it coming.

Aya didn't realize how cold she was until she was blasted with heat. It was like everything hit her at once. The warmth just made her even more sleepy and she was back to sleeping, snuggling against his chest, because that was warm and solid. She tried to stop her body from shivering, but couldn't. Though, she honestly could not care less if her body shook from the cold. This warm and yet solid thing was comfy as fuck.

Sven was saying something, but comprehension was still beyond her and her body was shaking too hard to care. She was given a small shake and she slowly opened her eyes to see Sven looking down at her with worry. She smiled as soon as her eyes connected with his. A real genuine smile. "You're not gonna let them kill me, right," she asked as she started to drift back to sleep.

Another small shake and she opened her eyes again. She had to focus real hard on Sven's words though his eyes kept distracting her. "Stormy ... your eyes are stormy. I like storms," Aya didn't realize she had said the thoughts out loud as she nodded her head. She could stand.

She moved to stand on her own very much unaware she was being held in the air. She stood for all of 2 seconds before immediately going to her knees and crawling towards the fire. Her pants were stretched tightly across her bum. She didn't care she just wanted to get closer to the warmth; the fire. She looked over and saw Sugarfoot was also snuggling closer to the fire. She paused ensuring she wasn't encroaching on the wolf's space, but she merely yawned and closed her eyes. Aya nodded and wanted to do the same as Sugarfoot.

Aya took off her torn jacket showing a spaghetti strapped shirt under the thin material. No wonder she was so cold. Her clothes were so thin and the night air didn't dry her clothes, but kept them damp. She laid on the floor and unbutton her pants with the thought to take off the tight, sticky, dirty, damp material, but she was gone again. Sleep claimed her as she rolled to her side, her pants unbutton, her jacket tossed next to her, and Sugarfoot not too far. Her breathing even and a small snore coming from her lips.

Aya awoke with a start. She sat up as the room grew chilly. She looked over. The fire was dying. She looked around and knew she was in unfamiliar surroundings. Her only source of light was the fire. She looked at her jacket and was going to toss it in, but realized it might smother the flame. She put a sleeve to the fire and it slowly took hold and started to burn. The flames licked up her jacket quickly and due to her exhaustion she barely had enough time to throw the rest of the jacket into the fire before it burned her. She was just happy the fire was blazing again, though that was a Chanel jacket.

Aya looked around and saw Sugarfoot staring at her. Aya got the impression that Sugarfoot was trying to determine if Aya was bright or not. Aya looked around, but staring into the fire killed her night vision. She couldn't see into the interior of the house. She looked down and realized she had a nice, warm, blanket wrapped around her. She pulled the blanket towards the side (not towards the fire) and sighed. Her pants were off. She presumed she took them off and ... where did she get the blanket? Didn't matter. She was still exhausted and had to pee. Aya stood up took a step in just her spaghetti strapped shirt and panties and stopped. It was cold as hell away from the fire. She quickly grabbed the blanket and wrapped herself in it.

Aya looked back to the wolf and saw Sugarfoot was still watching her. "I have to pee," she said sleepily. She turned in a circle as though the bathroom would light up and the sounds of the heavens would direct her. She walked slowly in the direction that made the most sense. She thought she heard a noise, but her brain didn't compute anything but pee and sleep. She stopped as she realized she had walked to the front door. She stared at the door and shook her head. Her brain not thinking escape, leave, run, but that's ... not the bathroom. She turned and headed in the dark with the fire slightly illuminating the living room towards a hallway.

Again, she thought she heard a voice, but she ignored it trying to locate the bathroom. She pushed open a door and peered inside. "Bedroom," she announced softly to herself and turned towards another door. "Creepy stairs leading down," she said softly and turned towards another door. "Bathroom!" She went inside and couldn't find the switch on the wall. She couldn't hold it any longer. She went to the toilet, pulled down her panties, and then screamed as her bum hit water and the toilet bowl. She stood up, quickly cursing every curse word in the dictionary, put the toilet seat down, and relieved herself. She moaned a small sigh of relief and then drifted off on the toilet.

 

[Shadoleopard]

“Yes, beautiful eyes. No, your Mate wouldn’t like you dying. At all. I’d rather you not even get hurt.” His eyes are one of the few features he’d ever really been a bit proud of. Stormy fit them, ever shifting shades of blue and grey. He blushes, his smile matching hers. He chuckles at her attempt to get out of his arms, but let’s her slide down his body until she seems to be steady on her feet. He chastises himself and his traitorous body from imprinting her form on his brain. In that moment, she falls. Luckily she lands on a plush fur.

Then within seconds she’s on her knees. He’s just been carrying her, but she’s awake now. He is really confused as to what he should do. Before he can react, she starts to strip. That was the plan anyway, but he had thought he’d give her some privacy. There goes that idea. He takes her castoff jacket, spreading it out to dry. His eyes track over, then stop on her thick, swaying ass again. In any other circumstance he’d think she was presenting for him. His body still responds, but his mind swiftly shuts that down. He looks away, letting her finish undressing.

Before he can get a blanket or anything, he hears her snoring. “Uh… Aya?”

No response. She’s out like a light on the bear skin rug in front of the hearth, lightly snoring away. He can’t leave her soaked pants on. He heard the snap and zip, so it should be easy right. He swallows hard, kneeling behind her, heart hammering. Her shirt and panties don’t seem that wet. Her jacket and pants got the worst of it by far, and even the jacket is just wet. He can’t imagine she’d be happy or secure in waking up completely naked. He reaches forward carefully, slowly tugging the clinging material down, lifting her hips onto his carefully. She barely seems to register his existence. He tries to look as little as possible, but occasionally must look to get the material off, and is presented with her half naked ass, and skimpy panties barely hiding anything from his imagination as her dark lips peek from the edges of the bunched material.

Sven swallows hard. The first time he’s had a woman naked in front of him, and she’s passed out. What a fucking night. He won’t do that to her. Can’t. She is warming up next to the fire, but she really needs more. He gently tugs at her, but she clings to the bear skin rug beneath her. He puts her pants on a chair, and goes to get a blanket for her.

 

[Shadoleopard]

Sugarfoot watchers her packmate attending to the new female. She's a bit surprised anyone is in their den. No one else comes into their den. Why did Sven bring some random female into their den? She sifts through his changing scents as the minutes go by, fear, shock, desire... He's never reacted to anyone so strongly. He doesn't let anyone in their den. Ever. She creeps towards Aya, gently whuffing against her shoulder. She smells different, exciting. The female shivers. Sugarfoot presses closer, curls up at her back, offering more warmth.

If Sven likes her and accepts her, Sugarfoot figures she can give her a chance, and share a little warmth as Sven walks through the house, cocking her head when he returns with a blanket, carefully placing it around them. Her tail thumps Aya's legs, wagging slowly when Sven rumbles quietly, "Good girl. Stay. Protect. Keep her warm. She'll feel safer if she wakes up with you near rather than me. Probably?"

He banks the fire for the night, strokes Sugarfoot's head, then moves off again, stripping down as he goes. Sugarfoot whines softly. His bed is way more comfortable than the rug, and she likes how he curls up around her, or gives her his back to lay out along, warm and solid. But he said stay. She drops off to sleep as well, waking up later to see the female putting her outer fur onto the fire.

The extra flare of warmth isn't bad, but the sudden light is a surprise. Sugarfoot shakes herself, and settles back down onto the fur rug sleepily. Sven told her to stay, and she will stay. Besides, she does not need to pee. She did that earlier, so doesn't follow Aya to the outside door. Going there isn't odd as Sven pees off the porch while she marks her territory, but then Aya turns. Sugarfoot idly, curiously watching what the strange new being will do now. She growls quietly, trying to decide whether she should announce the change of affairs to Sven with a bark, but decides against it. He's usually near as observant as she anyway. The female isn't doing anything stupid, and she didn't leave. She probably is just using the drinking bowl Seth rarely did his business in.

 

[Shadoleopard]

Sven is near ready to pass out after shutting down the house. He should get clean though. He walks into the bathroom, closes the door so he won’t wake her, and finishes stripping. He really has to pee. He lifts the seat, sighing at the pleasurable release. He hadn’t had a chance to do much before the night went crazy. He finds himself thankful once again that his mother had demanded certain amenities. He flushes quietly as he can. There isn’t a huge supply, but there is hot water, and a fully functional bathroom. He gets the water running while looking into the small mirror hung above the sink. He suddenly finds himself a bit self-conscious. He’s a married man. Sort of. To a beautiful woman who alternately looks at him horrified and entranced. Nothing makes sense; but having her home feels right. He’s exhausted, but decides to neaten up. Looking like he spent weeks in the woods really can’t be working in his favor.

He soaks under the water, letting the tension and grime rinse away, then reaching for the soap. He thoroughly scrubs his hair and face, moving down his shoulders, arms, and chest. Next is his ass, his thighs, then between them. At that moment, Aya’s ass and thighs float into his mind. Through the exhaustion, his body still responds vigorously. This isn’t how a wedding night should be spent- let alone a Claiming night. But he shouldn’t be thinking this way about a poor, kidnapped woman seeking shelter in his home. He growls, quickly finishing scrubbing himself, getting dried off, and listens. He hears Sugarfoot’s soft whuffing breaths and Aya’s quiet snoring. He could sleep in the rocking chair, but it was rather too small. Besides, waking to him looming over her could end poorly. He decides to sleep in his own bed with the door partly open so he is sure to hear if anything odd happens. Sugarfoot will certainly warn him. He slips into the first floor bedroom across from the bathroom. If she needs him, he should hear her. He strips naked, crawling into the bad, wrapping a blanket around himself. It is weird not having Sugarfoot with him. They've slept together for years. His mind reluctantly quiets, finally allowing him to drift into sleep for at least a few hours.

His exhausted body barely registers her voice, his dream working it in where she was telling him to bring her to his bed. "With pleasure, Darlin." So it is a complete shock when he hears Aya scream a string of profanities. His brain muzzily tells him it is from the wrong direction as he scrambles up. He trips over the edge of the blanket, pushing through the wide open door. As he’s trying to figure out where it came from, Sugarfoot barks, threading through his legs nearly knocking him over again in the darkened hallway as she goes to see as well. He follows her, not knowing what the hell to expect, furiously blinking, already in fight mode, alert for anything.

Which makes him extra unprepared for what he sees, Aya with her panties down, asleep on the toilet, illuminated only by the soft glow of moonlight through the window. He can’t see anything wrong. He squats in front of her, scanning her for any signs of injury. He very carefully tries to not look between her thighs, still ashamed of his thoughts earlier. Then he notices that her ass is wet again. But the rest of her is very much dry. So what…?

Then he thinks back. Toilet seat. His eyes widen. He barely muffles an outburst of laughter. He left the seat up. Damn, that was an inventive string of swears. Then again, sitting down in cold porcelain and water weren’t fun. He was big enough he couldn’t fall in even if he wanted to, but she clearly can. He sits watching her a few moments, trying to decide what the hell the next step is. God, this'd be embarrassing, right? She is clearly out, so he tries turning on the light as he steps out into the hall while shutting the door.

He knocks softly, calling relatively quietly, “Aya? You okay in there? I heard screaming and swearing?” He pauses a moment, tries to joke, “It didn’t seem to be the fun kind either, but if you’re, uh, just handling some private things and I should just go back to bed, I’ll leave you to it.”

 

[La_Reina]

The light coming on did not wake up Aya. The knock on the door did. She woke up with a start and her mind immediately thought, it was her ex boyfriend. "Josh, I'm fine!" She was annoyed as she was still tired and was abruptly woken up. She blinked slow and as her brain paused and went, 'We broke up with Josh like a year ago. ... Yah... then who's knocking on her door?" Aya looked around the bathroom. She scowled. "Where the hell is my cupcake shower curtain?"

She looked around some more and her brain slowly started to recognize this was NOT her bathroom. Her heart started hammering in her chest and she was suddenly spook. Then her mind caught up with present day. She had been taken, she was going to be killed, no ... Sven saved her. She blinked twice and reached over for toilet paper.

"I guess it wasn't a dream," she said out loud to her self. She pulled up her panties and washed her hands before pulling the blanket around her. Aya sighed taking a moment to finally be alone. Then it dawned on her. Did Sven .. trust her?

She tried her best to remember the last few moments, but her brain was foggy. Either way she was pretty sure he had left her alone. She didn't recall actually seeing him in the darkened living room. NO, he didn't trust her. That would be stupid. He left her alone with Sugarfoot to alert him if she moved. She cracked her neck before she realized; He left her on the floor!

Aya slowly opened the door wrapping the blanket tightly around her. "I'm fine," she said groggily. She arched her back which resulted in the blanket sliding down showing her breasts thrust out in the thin shirt. She felt a ripple of cracks from sleeping so heavily on the hardened floor. Even if she was on the rug it wasn't a good place to sleep for the whole night. She pulled the blanket tighter obscuring his view of her breasts though honestly she hadn't notice she had shown herself in such a way or that her nipples were hard and easily seen in the white shirt.

"Where can I sleep? I don't want to sleep on the floor anymore. Do I have a room?" She yawned still feeling the effects of the joint she smoked earlier. She leaned against the door frame and yawned again as her eyes closed and could feel the beginnings of sleep closing in on her. .

 

[Shadoleopard]

Sven sighs, relieved. She’s fine. But she sounds irked. Then again she’s half asleep, ass soaked after refusing to leave the rug, fire, or Sugarfoot ‘til deep into the night. He doesn’t want to think about Josh, but does anyway. Brother, friend, roommate? Any would now worry if they care about her. Who is Josh? Almost certainly- No. Don’t want to think about that. What? Heh, cupcake curtains. Does she like the starry night print in there?

That train off thought cuts off when she wonders about dreaming. Not a dream, but a nightmare. One he couldn’t see a way of getting her out of, still can’t. Every person in camp had decades of knowledge. Even if he taught her all he knew, what could she do? What would he do when kin asked him to do as they were all bound to? What would he do when ordered to hunt his wife? At least now he could keep her alive like Butch kept Mel alive. If he got her first. If she didn’t finally gut him to get away. She almost certainly would try. She’d said my mate. He was her mate. That meant she was his. But he knew she didn’t mean Mate, let alone Lifemate. He was a lifeline in boonie hell. A tenuous, unreliably dangerous, unpredictable one. Could he defend himself with a clear head? Sugarfoot? Johnny?

He looks down, shading his eyes to protect his night vision when she opens the door. She’s small enough that doesn’t change much. But in his own half asleep, hyper aware, and pensive state, he finds himself very thankful she covers up. She is clearly cold. Probably just that. Right? So he tries really hard not to stare at her nipples. “I should stoke the fire,” he murmurs.

She yawns, starts to doze again. When he sees her slide down the doorframe- considering last time- Sven stoops, cradling her at her hip, but doesn’t know what to do then. He half expects to be beat over the head. It’s like a great rom com. She’s so small and light in his arm. She fits there, his hand at her waist, and his arm easily cupping her protectively close to him in a side hug. She’s all along his barrel chest and hip. He thinks how sinuously she’d slid down him once before. How she looked on her hands and knees. How hard her nipples are poking through her shirt. The resulting effect makes him blush even redder as his cock hardens. He looks up and away.

He coughs, replying to her question, “Yeah. You slid out of my arms like wet pasta, tried to undo your pants, and ended up on your hands and knees. Then clung to the rug in front of the hearth with your pants undone like a muddy Sugarfoot with a bone, or a deer haunch. Speaking of, when I went to get a blanket to warm you up, she was curled up on you like she does with me. Butch is stupid, but not dumb enough to mess with her. She had your back, and the fire was at your front, so you were warmer and drier there than anywhere else. You never did get food or drink, however. If you are awake enough, there’s food on the table in the living room where you were sleeping. Water, too. There’s a shower if you can stay awake for it, as you noted. My bed is really close. You stumbled into my room on your way here. The master’s bedroom is upstairs. I don’t bother with the second floor, much, though. We would need to light a lamp, maybe two. Then start a fire in the bedroom. Not much around here runs on electricity. This iiis the boonies. My Pa tried to set up some of the comforts of home for Mama, but only been me n Sugarfoot fer... um… nevermind. Yes, there are beds. And in the living room, there is a couch you’d fit on. It is near the fire, which we can stoke. The couch even has those silly pillows most women like.”

He looks down at her, still held loosely against him, wondering if she’ll be okay to stand on her own, let alone get upstairs. Will he have to carry her again? He still holds her tight enough she doesn’t slip bonelessly from his arms, but loosely enough she can move away if she wants. A light breeze runs through the house. The sudden extra coolness contrasting her warmth pressed against his side makes him look down dumbly. In his worry for her, he hadn’t thought. He sleeps naked. There’s never been a reason not to. He’s never really thought about himself, either. Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder. She might be getting cradled by a monster.

He wonders what she sees, again cursing the way his mind has gone against his will. Though, worrying she might find him monstrous helps with the unwanted swelling. He can’t even let her go, not knowing if he’ll have to carry her again, but tries to use his free hand in a futile effort to cover up. His blush deepens, turning red from his head through his chest, accenting his ginger, and contrasting his eyes. What a first way for your bride to see you nude. It was like a poorly written romance. But at least he had trimmed, and showered. Though lightly furred and sweating after the burst of adrenaline from a dead sleep, it is in a clean musky way. He sputters, “Please. Wake up. Tell me where we’re going. And you can get there without me carrying or holding you up now? And um, sorry, you scared me awake, so, uh… don’t look down.”

 

[La_Reina]

Aya hadn't realized she had passed out until she felt Sven grab her and hold her close. She opened her eyes and tilted her head back to look up at him as her brain tried to focus. She was so tired and the joint made her want to not move at all. "A haunch," she asked as she looked down to where Sugarfoot had padded. Sugarfoot just stood there looking up to her and Sven.

"Protection... protector..." Aya wanted to cry. She had been praying for someone to come help her, protect her and her prayers were answered. Sugarfoot was there to protect her. How would that help her with her dying business? Aya felt herself choking on a sob and she took a deep breath and held it. It was a trick she learned to stop herself from crying before all this happened. Businessmen didn't like dramatic, crying women, so she had to stop that when she was in meetings and they treated her like shit. She wasn't going to cry now knowing this wolf was there for her. Maybe she could convince the wolf to help her escape too? Aya shook her head. She was seriously losing it.

Aya weakly tried to take a step back out of his Sven's grasp. He must think she was weak and she wasn't. She really wasn't! When menetioned food her stomach grumbled and she realized she was hungry. She had ate at the fire, but not nearly enough. Aya took in the information he gave freely as she stared up into his eyes. He had a great voice; gruff, gravely, masculine and his eyes. She loved how turbelent they looked. She wondered what other colors they turned.

"I can have my own room?" She asked more curious than anything while Sven was explaining the room situation. He can have the room downstairs and she'll take the upstairs room if he'll allow it. She was a bit disappointed there wasn't any electricity - "WHAT?! There's no wi-fi!" Aya felt herself go even weaker and Sven's grip on her tighten and she didn't move an inch. What was she going to do without internet? No more cooking shows, Netflix, Hulu. Oh man, this was worse than she thought. No electricity!

Aya shivers as a breeze goes through the house her body rubbing slightly against Sven's. She looks up to see him slowly turning red? In her exhausted and albeit slowed down state her mind was really confused. Then like lightening she realized he was blushing. A grown, gruff, most feared bad ass man was blushing! She almost wanted to laugh, but wanted to know what was causing him to blush. The talk about rooms? His eyes glanced not at her face, but towards the side, goes wide, then back to her face and she swear he was blushing even harder. She glances down and realized he was naked! Her heart slams in her throat at the shock, but then ... he was really quite a nice size; slightly abover average lenght and thick. She always preferred a girthy cock. The veins were protruding and she was fascinated by that one thick vein that traveled from the base to the crown. Aya reached out to touch it, but stopped just inches from it. The heat of his cock was searing and she realized she was staring at it.

Aya took a step back and it wasn't lost on her that he let her go. She was grateful he wasn't forcing anything on her. She looked up at his face, which was still quite red. "I'm sorry. I almost touched you without your consent." That hit her so hard. She almost touched him and he hadn't done anything of the same. Hell, aside from the erection she wasn't even sure he was attracted to her and he hadn't made any moves on her. She was the monster here! "Thank you for not being ... what I imagined this place would be. Barbaric, uncivillized, and ..." She let the words hang as she wasn't sure how else to say thank you for not raping me. "Thank you for not doing that to me."

Aya choked on her words as emotions overtook her. She cursed. "I'm not usually this fragile and weak. I swear I'm strong and a great partner. If you teach me how to survive out there I promise I can do it. I'll learn, so that I can escape." Her eyes burned with unshed tears and promise.

"I'm awake. I'm just .. really floaty and tired," she laughed and the tears from before were gone that quickly. "I think I want to sleep ... on the couch where it's warm, but I want to bathe first." Aya looked into the mirror. Yeah, her hair was a mess and in disaray around her face. She had a little dirt smudged on her face. She bent forward and washed her face in the sink real quick and tried to smooth down her hair into a more manageable style. "I'm afraid I'll pass out in the shower or tub, but I don't want to be dirty anymore. I feel dirty." Aya glanced down at herself sadly her mind unable to come up with a solution being so exhausted and still quite high.

Aya looked up to Sven. She didn't think Sven would hurt her. He put too much effort into helping her and protecting her. Then again she was very tired and could be really, really off on reading him; but her gut was telling her she could trust him.

Aya closed her eyes in a long slow blink and she felt herself stumble before she woke back up. She smiled awkwardly aware she almost passed out on her feet. "Do you have clothes I can wear? I think I can handle a shower. It'll help me wake up some, I'm sure." Aya reached over and turned on the shower. The water was cold and she turned her back to Sven pulling off her shirt. When she glanced over her shoulder he was gone. She quickly undressed and got in the water, which was still cold, but not so much; like pool water. She put her head against the wall and let the water fall over her and before she knew it she was dreaming of living in a waterfall of warm water and glittery stars.

 

[Shadoleopard]

“Um… of course?” He stammers, still trying to look down- anywhere away from her gaze. Then he sees her cupped hand edging towards his crotch, stopping so close he can feel her warmth where he certainly had not expected it. So close his throbbing, twitching, cock almost closes the gap for them. He can’t stop himself from wondering how her palm and fingers would feel, what else she might want to do. She has to be kind of excited at least, right? He freezes in place.

But what if she isn’t? What if she feels she has to? Or is gonna hurt him for barging in, and being hard in the presence of her vulnerability? She can’t be into him, right? She can’t be reaching for his cock, but with how the three are standing, that could be her only target. He can’t figure out why. She can’t actually want him. But he feels the smooth slide of her body along his again, watches her long brown fingers move toward his length. He twitches, the fading swelling surging to full arousal. Then she stops. She certainly isn’t shying away. She just doesn’t continue. What?

His breath catches. He is afraid to move, but he can’t stop his eyes from rushing upward, trying to understand. He locks eyes with hers, while she stares at his prick. That has always been uncomfortable. He doesn’t like eye contact, or get the need, but he has to try to understand, and the tension watching her hand hover so close to his junk finally breaks his paralysis. He’s relieved to see a hint of hunger- maybe more than a hint, but he doesn’t see the usual terror or disgust. Too many emotions flit across her face for him to read in his current state. Some of the worry drains from his face. In fact, the more he looks, the more he notices some of the signs he’d been taught long ago to look for.

Then she steps away. His heart falls slightly. Before he can even cock his head curiously, she answers his forming question. “Oh. Um, it’s ok. You’re my new wife. Mate. Then again, not really. Um, sorta? If you stayed. So, uh, anyway, unless you’re hurtin’ me some way I don’t like…?” He shrugs. “Thanks, though.”
He shudders, and scowls at the delicacy of her phrase. All the thoughts of before flood in. But why then? Wait. She said he isn’t that. But the fact she has to thank him for just being a halfway decent human being- not just not taking advantage, but all of it.

“I couldn’t- wouldn’t. Most of us aren’t Butch. I’m sure you are amazing.” He gulps, mind roiling again, So why is she looking at him like that? Why did she reach for him? It has to be the weed and exhaustion. He shakes his head, deflating even more. Mama had taught him against Stockholm’s and things of that nature. But even that wouldn’t fit. Not really, yet. “We’ll get you back to Josh soon as we can. As soon as you can.”

He pulls another towel from the shelf above the shower while she talks and cleans up at the sink. He really doesn’t know what to think, what to say, or what to feel. “Mhm, left ‘em with the food n water,” is his final reply before giving her privacy. He slips into his room, puts on a pair of shorts, and pads to the living room with Sugarfoot. “What’ve we gotten ourselves into, girl?”

He stokes the fire, tossing on a couple extra logs then using the extra light to work by. He tries to drown the thoughts and busywork. He makes sure the meat, cheese, and bread on the table are still palatable, and tosses a bite to Sugarfoot with a stroke between her ears, pulls another fresh ewer of water to set next to the plate of food and cup, before setting up the couch, pillows, and blanket for Aya, then heads back towards the bathroom.

Sugarfoot noses her way past the mostly closed door. The angle is just right for him to see her completely naked, completely asleep, completely, devastatingly gorgeous form resting under the shower stream pouring down her delectable curves. She’s positioned just right, head on her arms, thick, full breasts against the wall at such as angle he can barely see her nipples peeking at him. The sight is seared indelibly upon him brain.

Once again, Sugarfoot breaks the spell. He realizes too late what her intent is. She knows that unless he has just soaped up, the shower water is the freshest, and since a young pup, she had not only showered with him on occasion, but liked to get a drink, and sometimes just get wet then shake the water everywhere without letting him soap her up. And she’s beelining for the gap between shower, curtain, and Aya. And his moment of entrancement means he can do nothing about it.

 

[Shadoleopard]

Sugarfoot is a bit confused watching and hearing the latest proceedings of the night. Ever curious, she decides to follow him around, looking at Aya blankly. Of course she had protected. Sven said to, and of course she'd protect Sven. Sven seems to be relatively calm. Mostly. He is clearly riled in the way only a female usually makes a straight male. Why doesn't her packmate do what he should? She can smell that both are interested. Both are ready. About the only thing Aya could more blatantly do is present for him. But then again, the two legs rarely make sense. Even her two legs. This wasn't the first time he had seemed to miss blatant signs a female wanted to be serviced by him.

Sugarfoot happily munches the small piece of meat tossed to her when he checks the offerings on the table, then following him back to the bathroom. She decides it is time for a drink upon seeing the shower curtain open with the water running. It is her den after all, and she is thirsty. Why should anything change? Aya is way smaller than Sven, so there is definitely room.

Sugarfoot trots over, shoving her head past the shower curtain, opening it even wider., her head diving between Aya's legs where the water pools deepest at her feet before draining. Now Aya is asleep, head against the wall, partially presented. But she's asleep, and Sven just gawks, throbbing in the doorway. Weird two legs.

The new female should know who's who in the house. If she's gonna be pack, better to get used to how things are quick. Besides, keeping her warm and making sure the food is still good is thirsty work. And it gives Sugarfoot another chance to get close, try to pick out the new scents flooding her nose.

And now Sven is at her back, so she feels safer. It is always safest to eat or drink with pack at your back. She really hadn't enjoyed sleeping away from Sven. They were always together, but he had made it clear he was happy with her where she had been, and she'd done as expected. She was a good girl. Her tail wags furiously thinking about how well she had protected. So she totally deserved her strokes, treats, and fresh drinks. The dumb dogs in the camp usually got bowls of water, but Sven almost always just turned the water on for her. She always knew she was special, and made sure they all knew it, too.

 

[La_Reina]

Aya shook her head. Why did he mention her ex-boyfriend? She forgot she had even said his name earlier. That fact played around over and over in her head as she dreamt and the water grew hotter and hotter. Aya knew subconsciously she should move, but in her dream it didn't register this was actually hurting her. Her skin was slowly turning red as the steam in the bathroom grew thicker and thicker.

Aya heard a yelp and the sound of Sugarfoot hurt woke her up. As soon as she woke up the pain registered and she jumped back out of the spray of the water. "Fuck, that's hot!" Aya looked at her skin that was a nice shade of red. She liked hot showers, what girl didn't, but this was getting borderline scalding. Aya reached forward and turned the cold water higher evening out the water.

Aya looked down between her legs to see Sugarfoot had returned and was not lapping up the water. She blinked slowly trying to process what she was seeing. Was there a wolf in the shower with her? Right between her legs? She could actually feel the heat and the fur of the animal on her legs. "Uh," Aya looked over and saw Sven was leaning against the door just staring. "I assume this is normal. But uh, I'm not sure I ... "

Sugarfoot looked up at Aya with an eye that was so humanlike Aya held her hands up. "Okay, your house. I get it, but uh, can I soap up first?" The look Sugarfoot gave her was probably in Aya's head, but it seemed to scream 'you were just sleeping in here!' "You right, you right," Aya said to Sugarfoot.

Aya reached for the soap and Sugarfoot hopped out of the shower. Aya nodded with understanding as she pulled the shower curtain close not realizing there was still a crack in the curtain. She could see the outline of Sven through the curtain. Aya yawned loudly and turned the hot water down hoping to wake herself more. "Can you hand me a washcloth," Aya said to Sven completely unaware he could see everything through the crack in the curtain.

While she waited she soaped up her hands and scrubbed her face. She heard Sven come back and she put her face in the lukewarm water to rinse it. She reached out and Sven put a cloth in her hands. She soaped up the cloth and before Sven could leave she called out. "Sven, you mentioned Josh. We broke up over a year ago. I had a great business that was booming, but i was getting pushed out by a big corporation and he bailed since I wasn't elite anymore and ..." She shrugged her shoulders, even though she didn't think Sven could see her. "I'm not leaving to get back to him. I'm leaving to ..."

She trailed off. Why was she running back home? Her business was failing as she couldn't keep up with the supply and demand of the bigger company that was pushing her out. She didn't have any romantic affairs. Josh left calling her insane along with other insults about being poor. The insults to her finances didn't matter. The insults about how she wanted darker and darker things, choking to the point of passing out, being whipped with a belt, being forced and used... Aya paused. Granted she hadn't gotten laid in a while, but what would Sven think if he found out what she was into? Her heart was pounding. He wouldn't even understand the intricacies of what that life was about. How freeing and empowering it was to be tied up, belted, and fucked so hard her legs turned to jelly. No, as a kidnapper he would probably think only in terms of abuse and would hurt her and not free her. Mel flashed through Aya's mind. NO, Aya had to keep that part of herself tightly locked away.

"Shit," she just realized she had taken away the only other reason this man might have had to not touch her sexually and to free her. She could make up a lie that she had another boyfriend, but why would she call out for Josh and not her boyfriend. Aya soaped up slowly with her shoulders down. She was too tired to think smart.

Aya stepped out of the shower and smiled. Sven had provided a big fluffy towel and, as requested, provided a shirt and shorts for her to wear. Aya didn't see Sven and assumed he was in the living room. Aya pulled on the shirt and no matter how she rolled the shorts they would not stay up. Luckily, Sven's shirt was long and covered her ass and mound. She forgo the shorts and padded lightly to the living room. It was much warmer here. There was food and though she was hungry that couch called for her.

 

[Shadoleopard]

Sven grins at the exchange between the two. He’s afraid to move. He’s also entranced by Aya's reddened form, the way she is completely exposed to him with Sugarfoot spreading her thighs just enough, head nosing as insistently, but far lower than he wishes to, imagines, wondering how she'd look if it was him there. He can’t help but wonder if that is the shade her skin would look freshly smacked, suffused with pleasure? Gently lapping the pearl he barely sees peaking and flashing periodically. Nor can he stop noting just how red, swollen, and wet she is. He'd swear he can scent her arousal upon the wafts of steam. But are the signs just because of the shower?


Is the scent just his own imagination, his desire for her to be around, to be aroused? But she almost grabbed his throbbingly, twitching hard cock with a hungry look in her eyes?? He’d feel bad for looking, but she had studied his cock minutely, almost devouring him with her eyes for a moment- and he wasn’t anywhere near touching her. Besides, he had tried to behave. Was she teasing him? Rewarding him for being an ok guy? Was that so rare as to be rewarded in the modern world? He has no clue. Now he is just a lucky beneficiary, right? Plus, the angle of the shower curtain, and her long luxurious posing suggests she might be trying to give him a view? If naught else her easy sleep shows at least some comfort and safety in his presence. Sometimes.




Sugarfoot shakes vigorously as she prances by him, brushing against his outer calf as he just watched her brush Aya’s inner legs, on her way to jump into their bed, accord reached, drink drunk, light refreshing bath had...

She growls softly, a half-hearted formality, at his utter lack of reaction to the spraying moisture, or her tail thumping his bare leg. He seems thoroughly caught in the thrall of the new bitch. He barely notices, which should offend her, but he’s acting like he should. If some big-knotted new addition to the pack appeared in such spectacular fashion, Sven would understand her seeing if he was worth attention. If he was intelligent, gorgeous, helpful, interesting, spicy....? Sven would grin and brush by with a tongue click, too. So she perks her ears for any more interesting shrieks, resting in her favorite spot in the world, wondering if those sounds she always heard from the other dens every night and day were likely to ring out in the house again. She doesn't quite think of it that way. But all the questions Sven has about what he senses in that moment, she has none. Were she that clearly ready and blatantly willing for any of the camp mutts after such a flight and fight.. Sugarfoot's hind-leg twitches.




In response to Aya’s request, Sven hands her a fresh wash cloth from the built-in shelving, saying. “Of course you can. They’re here to your left. There should be one in there with the soap and shampoo, unless I put it on the high bar in there, but here is one that has not been used at all. I usually use em, give em a quick scrub, and rehang em in there to dry. Feel free to use anything you need in the house when you need it.”

He drinks in the sight of her, the smell, the way her voice rings in his ears, deep, husky, beautiful. Since she's still covered in soap, he reaches through the small partition, giving himself the excuse she can't see- he must look where to put the washcloth. Her fingers brush against his as the cloth exchanges hands. Their heights, and her closed eyes allow him to feast upon her. He’s almost feeling bad about it again when she says Josh is in the past- a bad one. He makes the connection- she’d said it reflexively. So there is no one she pines for. His eyes widen then narrow in a way one could only describe as predatory, the stormy, shifting blues seeming to focus with a steel blue glint for a moment.

His eyes harden, hearing how the mysterious one ditched her at a time she needed support most. It bewilders him. He’s not one to judge upon short acquaintance, but that just does not compute. She seems like one you hold close, tight as you can. He couldn’t imagine giving her up because of corporate America, because she wasn't the number one business in her area of expertise. He wonders what she did, but doesn't get the chance to ask. She briskly washes, seemingly lost in thought. And the fear and determination are back. He sighs softly, tries to speak. All he manages is a soft, “Ah.”

His thirst for her surges. His respect. His curiosity. What was she the best at? Where did they Cull? How far away is home for her, even? If Butch was smart.... he winces. He wants to hug and comfort her, offer even more strongly a place to recuperate, to try a life. Yet, there are many reasons for her to return.

Family? Friends? Yet she doesn’t seem to feel they apply. And yet- she still wants to be gone. The obvious ones. Freedom. Fear of Butch or one of his dogs slipping past his last ditch defense of her, and defense of herself. There are many perks of modern life unlikely to be found in the middle of reddneckeville. And she is still a person in his home against her will. He hates the way that makes him feel almost as much as he hates the look of defeat and confusion on her face.

He misses her smile, padding back into the living room, deep in thought. She’ll almost certainly want privacy to get dressed. To collect herself. She has a lot to think about. He shouldn't add to her burden. Nor take advantage, whether she knows it or not. He’s perved on her far too long as it is, but even as he pokes at the fire and rearranged the pillows and blanket on the couch for the dozenth time, he cannot banish her from his mind, and all the conflicting facets continually crash. He looks up from his task, blanket in his hands. He doesn't hear a thing over the crackle of the fire. He just feels eyes on him; the hairs on the back of his neck bristle like Sugarfoot when she is ruffled.

The deep blue shirt compliments her form perfectly, hugging in all the right places. The lack of bra and panties are blatant from the lack of lines beneath the soft hug of the material. His jaw drops, a small indecipherable sound escaping his throat, a fire kindling in his eyes, honing the predatory steel blue of earlier. He is caught dead in the gaze of the object of his thoughts, face utterly unguarded, emotion flitting across his stare in quick succession.

Yet... he seems far more relaxed. Calm. Content. He doesn’t understand it, but seeing her there in his shirt- she is somehow more beautiful even than when she was naked on display for him in the shower. She looks so cute, sleepy, her eyes cast towards the couch with interest. A very diiiisssstant part of his brain knows it makes sense and would be helpful on so many levels. It shocks him to his core to realize how much he wants to be wrapped around her like his shirt is. The hem even reaches where his palm cupped her ass, then her hip. The wide, deep v he always prefers in shirts because they feel as though they're strangling him shows off her cleavage.

He's glad to note she isn't hyperventilating or shaking any more. She isn't in the fight and flee state she was in with Butch around. Nor is she unconscious and presenting- that moment floods through his senses again, and his eyes and nostrils widen a fraction of a moment, but he forces the thought away by sheer will, the same quiet, calm demeanor he showed when they first met replacing the flash flood of thoughts pouring across his face in his moment of shock seeing she had managed to sneak up on him. Not even Sugarfoot can really any more. But it is clearly Aya, radiant and rosy, her soft feminine scent mixing with his soap and shampoo/conditioner.

He tries to clear his throat, but fails, looking sheepishly down at her, twitching the blanket back a bit, like a mother or father turning down the sheets for a kid, finally finding his voice. "Since you seem to be seeking heat and sleep, I stoked the fire. Your sedan awaits. It is really comfortable. I used to sit and read here all the time. Before- enh, you don't care. You need rest. There is clean food and water on the table as you can see. When you want it. Place seems warm. But please don't burn more of your clothing. There is plenty of wood for your use."

He takes a deep breath, looking her directly in the eyes, trying to let his guard down enough to show sincerity. "Really, you're safe, too. No one will come in. I didn't think Butch would get stupid, but they were furious and drunk. Hence, Sugarfoot; protect. But I'll be in my room with her just yonder, and we're all in Deliverance, I get it must seem that. But I swear you'll sleep unharmed. As mate I swear it. And when you're ready, eat. Or anything else you want, really."

His eyes squeeze tight, hands moving through his hair, but hard enough faint lines appear on his scalp, "That was why Mel emphasized I can terrify so well. I think? I hope? She was never afraid of me before... Unlike Randy or Rusty, I'm not useless. Like the Bries... ain't ever one to be like Butch, but I'm also not like the Bries, who are in love and even if they weren't, I'm more their type... Um... the way you just snuck up that close to me half asleep... huh. You might get back to the city. Some day. Dunno if I'd make a good partner." He shrugs. "But me n Sugarfoot have seemed to do just fine in this fantastically fucked world. I meant it when I said I'd help. I seem to teach okay. I meant mate too. Partner. Hopefully great partner, but how would I know? And your only option- so what could you say anyway?"

He half-heartedly shrugs, before the mask slides over his face again, his eyes sliding down and to the side in their customary position, dropping the blanket and starting to step back, realizing she'll likely want space to lie down, and the ability to cover up. Plus she might even still be chill in the to him toasty room.

The fresh night air of the porch suddenly sounds almost unbearably tempting, his pulse thrumming in his ears, but that would possibly disturb her sleep even longer. She had passed out earlier, but who wants some hulking monster watching you sleep? One you know wants you because you pressed tight to his chest, then all but grabbed him by the achingly erect pussy-pleaser.

But a monster who somehow seems to now have that same blank politeness as he showed at the clan's gathering before, control regained-ish, eyes respectfully cast at the floor, knowing she'd almost surely prefer not to be showing him what she is. She did clutch her blanket earlier.

Whatever he may be, he doesn't want to turn into "that guy" in her head. But she was delivered as a bad, perverse joke, a breeding sex doll wife and homemaker for a mountain derided as an emotionless, virgin monster that terrifies, and she is trapped with him. He can only imagine how that must feel, but even the words he has already used just feel wrong. He's already seen her naked, unconscious, defiant, vulnerable, and kicking ass. In the split second and rushed breath it takes for his brain and mouth to process, he can only imagine, horrified, what else she might now infer, and wonder if she'll take him at his word, if that would mean anything anyway.

 

[La_Reina]

Aya finally spots Sven and he staring at her. She doesn't know why, but she blushes slightly. "Thank you. The shower did not help. I'm really tired and the joint is making me feel floaty and ..." Aya giggled. Her mind was thinking she shouldn't be laughing, but the joint removed a lot of her reservations and the exhaustion made it hard to concentrate on more than 1 thing. And right now the only thing she could think of is how that shower was the weirdest she ever had. She started laughing a bit harder. "I never showered with a wolf before!" She leaned against the wall trying to catch her breath.

Aya let him speak and realize that he must be nervous. He seemed to word vomit if she just let him talk. She wondered what he was nervous about? His nervousness was starting to make her nervous. She took a small step forward and stopped as she wondered what was going on. Aya's breath hitched and she realized what he was so nervous about. She all, but accused him of being a rapist or molester and he was doing his best to put her at ease. Aya smiled and nodded. It then dawned on her that he didn't even want her. She was a cruel joke pressed upon. Butch had knew Sven would say no and he wanted to hurt her. He couldn't just hurt her, so he did it his own way; culling her, letting her be rejected and humiliated, and then he could really fuck her over. But Sven hadn't rejected her, well not in the end.

"Thank you. I actually feel safe with you." Aya hesitated. "I'm not sure if I'm safe out there without you. I noticed there aren't any people of color here. Also, it almost seems like I'm the most city-girl-ish out here. I know I was thrust upon you and you didn't want a wife. I promise if you could just teach me how to survive on my own I'll be gone. When I leave you aren't gonna hunt me down, right? You'll tell them I was too good and you couldn't find me, right?"

Aya's eyes held Sven. She needed to be sure. Besides, there was nothing here for her. She could already imagine the racial slurs she'll have to endure. She didn't want to go back out there if she could help it. Mal seemed nice enough if not paranoid and scared as hell, but she wasn't sure about the others and from the Aryan nation they seemed to have built here she didn't want to be caught in the middle of it. Though Sven was a nice sight with this blue eyes and red hair. He was tall, thick and burly. He wasn't overly skinny or muscly; but the right kind of fat that protected muscles and you knew would fuck you up. A bad boy don't take not shit type of dude except here he was so sensitive and kind with her. He wasn't rude or brutish or aggressive with her. This is why she felt safe. Then she thought of outside the house and her eyes scrunched with worry.

"What is the present new wives and claiming again? What do I have to do again?"

 

[Shadoleopard]

Sven chuckles. He can see how a wolf joining your shower would be weird to most people. It was an amusing sight, but his brain is still focused on what the interaction allowed him to see. As she continues, his smile fades.

"Well... a couple things. It isn't that I didn't, or don't, want a wife. Just not willing to kidnap one and force her? Or to have anyone else do so... I'd love to cook, cuddle, and make a life... a -family-... with someone. Just life don't seem to be working out that way."

He scratches his head, moving to the window. "Yes. I'll teach you to survive, to evade, and hide. Try to, anyway. Just as I'll have to try to catch you. I can't just let you go. Gotta earn it. Some of the people here aren't -that- much worse hunters and trackers than me. If you leave obvious sign, they find you, and we both die. Me for helping. But. Me claiming you helps. I decide what happens if you're caught. I promise you're safe here. We aren't racist, funny enough. Some of the kids might have questions. Some of the adults, too. Many have never left our forest. Our mountains. At the start we were all from various Scandinavian countries. It isn't a supremacy thing. The lack of people of color is purely, or at least was, due to the fact non-whites have caught more hell from the start. It was utilitarian. These days, poc are less noticed when they disappear. But a strange bi-racial man goes into town? He is immediately suspect. This history has repeated itself over the last couple hundred years. Almost every people/ethnicity has caught varying levels of hell. That goes from the Irish, to the Chinese, to the Japanese, and literally every other new group- to differing degrees."

He sighs, "I told you. Mel told you. As long as you follow the rules, you won't get messed with. As my wife, you're my problem. My responsibility. My joy or headache. You're safe in our community because you're mine now. As soon as you said I'm your mate. Butch and his cronies would be the most likely to give you hell. But I made it clear. Anyone fucks with you, they deal with me. Simple."

He looks back at her. "Tomorrow night, you introduce yourself and say what you said to Butch to the clan. Or I introduce you. Then prove I claimed you. Back in the day it could be pretty biblical. Again, Butch... what he did to Mel..." Sven's eyes darken. "But it doesn't have to be. Gremmera grabbed Pawpaw's crotch and said all he had was hers, and vice versa. He concurred. That was enough. Supposedly Mama bent over just enough to get popped on the ass, cooed and said, "Gimme another Daddy." then sat on Pa's lap. Jenny n Johnny kissed, said they were spending a life together. It is really informal. All that really matters is that I say I'm not declining my claim on you after a day. It would help your acceptance and inclusion if you seem not to resist the idea. Then you should be safe here. As long as you don't steal, kill, or get caught trying to leave... though, the last one, you have a hidden ace. Like Butch, I'll keep bringing you back if I find you. Unlike him... I don't intend to present you bruised, bloody, and dripping cum to mark you as mine as he did Mel every time she ran away."