Hey, babe... take a walk on the wild side. (Closed for marauder13 and laceandcogs)

[laceandcogs]

Iilsa felt a tiny twinge of guilt as she parked her car in the dirt lot at the base of the mountain. She knew that what she was doing was breaking serious rules, rules set down for her safety, for her protection. She knew that Mom and Dad had cautioned her a thousand times not to go off alone, not to let herself get too far out of her brothers' sight. Of course, her brothers were generally uninterested in hiking, unless you meant a fast-paced walk to a sports bar. Iilsa had been allowed to hike with her cousins Greta and Loren, but for some reason, the other girls refused to take her favorite trail anymore.

She couldn't understand why anyone would dislike "her" trail- Iilsa loved the twists, the unexpected dips toward the lake, the way the trees above it seemed to conspire to turn the barely-used path into a dark, leafy tunnel. It relaxed her to amble slowly through this passage, and the uneven territory challenged the muscles in her lean, toned legs. She swung those legs out of the Jeep and bounced lightly on the balls of her feet as she locked the car and hefted her small pack. Today was booked solely with her hike- she intended to take her time, and see every inch.

Bending to touch her toes, and then stretching her legs back behind her in graceful, practiced movements, Iilsa readied her body for the trail. She wore sleekly fitted exercise shorts, the material designed to stay dry and protect her skin from the worst scrapes associated with a spill. Her layered tops consisted of a sports bra, a long-sleeve shirt, and a zip-up fleece vest- it was still early enough in the morning to be chilly, but she knew a few hours of hard hiking would have her warmed up and wishing to be less concealed.

Of course, Iilsa always had to be aware of the sun. Her milk-pale complexion burned very easily, and never could hold a tan- she may look like the girl on the cocoa box, but there were distinct downsides to fair Scandinavian looks. Her hair was done in two long braids, a style she enjoyed whether it made her look like the Swiss Miss or not. It stayed out of her way, off of her neck, and she thought French braids were classic. Besides, her mother delighted in doing them for her in the mornings. Despite being far, far removed from grade school, Iilsa liked the safe, happy feeling of her mother brushing and plaiting her hair- it was a welcome change from the strange, almost sympathetic way her mother had been looking at her lately, and so Iilsa dutifully concealed the fact that she'd mastered the art of braiding her own hair almost a decade ago.

Thinking about her parents put her in a black mood as she began her hike. Dad was almost too proud of her, telling her often how beautiful she had become, how helpful around the house, how talented with her harp and guitar. He beamed at her when his friends were around, making warm, paternal jokes about what a good wife she'd make some lucky man. Of course, those friends seemed to take those jokes differently, and there was a very hungry tilt to their smiles that Iilsa did not enjoy at all. They were a rough bunch, given to macho posturing and a steady stream of physical challenges- some sportsmanlike, some much bloodier. It wasn't that Iilsa was unattracted to powerful men- that certainly was not the case- it was just that she didn't particularly care for those who exercised strength so indiscriminately.

This train of thought occupied Iilsa for several minutes, long enough for her to pick up the faint trail that had so quickly become her favorite. She breathed deeply, tilting her face back to enjoy a last moment of bright sunshine before easing herself into the darker, heavily wooded trail. Finally, with pale blue eyes wide open and the ghost of a smile on her rosebud mouth, she struck out with long, easy strides.

 

[marauder13]

The wolf dozed in a quiet hollow deep in the coolness of the woods. The last 10 turns of the seasons had been good for him. His territory was secure, there was enough game to sate his hunger when needed and there were few humans coming through to disturb his peace. He was comfortable in the territory, knowing it well enough that he could take time such as this to lay down and rest.

But the large brown and gray coloured head shot upward, ears turned forward as his nose swung into the breeze. Subtle shifts of the head enabled his nose to catch the scent of the intruder.

Her.

He stood up, slowly loping through the undergrowth heading in the direction of the scent. It was one he had caught many times, one of the few that would come. He tolerated her because she just walked the woods. She didn't hunt, she never stayed long enough to be considered a threat. Most importantly, she did nothing to destroy his home.

His massive frame eased through plants without causing any noise or disturbances. Most of his kind were no larger than 35 inches at the shoulder, where he was 42 inches. Neither was he lean as his brethren were, he was solid, well muscled and heavy boned. Black, browns, grays and white were all found on his fur as he passed quieter than a whisper on the breeze.

He stopped, again taking the scents from the breeze. He caught hers, much stronger and definitely the same. She was so different to the others he had scented of their kind. Her smell was pure, little of the poisons the humans normally ate, drank or rubbed into their hides. He started to make out the sounds of her passage along one of their trails. The one she walked everytime she came to his range. He started to move, catching the fresh scent of a rabbit. The need for extra food vied with the desire to know more about her. This time, curiosity won out over a mostly full stomach.

While she had done nothing to cause her to be a threat, the wolf was still wary of any surprises that might be delivered. His nose worked the air while his ears tracked her position. Again, no effort to conceal, but then no effort to scare or draw attention. The wolf stopped still. He only picked up her scent, no one elses. His ears heard just her movement. His ears flickered, checking that he had not been tricked and that others were moving further behind her. She could be a trap. More caution was used as he made his way to the trail.

She had passed the point he approached, her sounds moving further from him but still no others were with her. Her scent on the ground, alone. The other two humans that walked with her were not there this time. He was confused. She came alone this time. His need to know burned in his mind as he followed her scent along the path. Again, he had every escape route planned if it was a trap. He even factored in how he would treat the bait ahead of him if he had the chance. Each of his steps was like a feather fall for the noise it made. His nose swept the ground as he moved, or paused in his pursuit of the intruder. Ears moving constantly, picking up every telltale sound in the forest to help him ensure his continued survival. The freshness of her scent, along with the noise of her passage told him clearly he was closing on her.

But his thoughts shifted to intruder's reasons for being there. Alone. He had noticed that she came there frequently, and that she liked the feel of the forest. She was not like others that would stay clear. Did she know he was here? Did she look for him? He paused in his walk, tilting his head to one side at the thought. He sat down, letting his mind take him along other paths of questions and answers. He called on his little, hard won wisdom of their kind to see if he could fathom this mystery. It took all of a minute for him to reach the only answer available to him. He resumed his tailing of the intruder, his stride more purposeful as he had set himself on a way to deal with her.

He would wait until she had reached the lake before he made his move. When he was finished, she would no longer be an intruder in his range. She would never intrude ever again.

 

[laceandcogs]

Iilsa was pleased to have reached the lake. She'd worked up a mild sweat, and paused here to drop her pack and strip off her fleece. Now was as good a time as any to take another stretch and enjoy the peaceful beauty of the scene.

She sat lightly, gracefully at the shoreline, long legs cast slightly splayed before her. Gripping each toe in turn, she worked through a series of long, deep bends, wanting to limber up so that she could spend the next part of her hike at a run. Running in the woods was one of the few pure joys Iilsa had- no one critiqued her, no one watched the turn of her hip, the swirl of her skirt out here. So often now, Iilsa felt like beef cattle at auction, aware that the men who surrounded her in daily life had only barely foregone whipping out tape measures and gauges. Here in the woods, she wasn't watched, she wasn't evaluated hungrily... well, not as far as she was aware.

Dipping a hand into her pack, Iilsa withdrew a granola bar and a bottle of water. Carefully, she shucked the packaging on the snack and tucked it back into her pack. She had always loathed litterers, and could hardly fathom the callousness it would take to leave an unnecessary mark on such a beautiful place. Mouth full of sweet, crunchy goodness, Iilsa closed her eyes and chewed.

 

[marauder13]

He reached the edge of the clearing around the lake, dropping to his haunches as he watched her. She was totally unaware of his presence, acting as if she was totally alone in the world. The wind shifted, bring her scent straight to him. She was warm, the scent of her sweat added to the overall aroma that was simply her. He watched her move, wondering why humans like her felt the need to do that when they walked or ran. It didn't really concern him that much, he was merely curious about the behaviour of those like her.

But how she moved did show her form much better. He could clearly see the shape of her, noting that she was not fat, but then she was not thin either. Her pack was good enough in the hunt to see that she was well fed. Neither had she any signs of being in fights, neither did he scent a mate, or offspring on her. He saw her take out some food, placing the weaver-tech back in the bag she carried. He caught the aroma of the food, his nose wrinkling at the smell of it.

Slowly, the wolf's form started to blur. Fuzzy shapes and mind bending outlines erased the clear form of the seated wolf. In moments, the hazy image began to clear and what was revealed was not a wolf.

It was a man, crouched down exactly where the wolf had been sitting.

His long, roughly cut brown hair was gathered into two leather ties. One near his skull, the other near the end of his hair as it rested between his shoulder blades. What little of his tanned skin could be seen was obscured by a large, equally roughly cut beard. In his right hand, he carried a staff which was little more than a dead fall branch. He wore cargo pants, a black t-shirt underneath a camel coloured photographer's jacket. Every pocket of his clothing bulged from the contents within them all. Around his neck was a loop of string with a variety of objects tied to it. One of the larger pockets on the left side of the jacket occasionally moved. Deep blue eyes remained locked on her as she continued to eat.

He laid down the staff quietly while he remained crouched, followed by the jacket and t-shirt. His broad shoulders sat above an impressively sized torso housing a well muscled body. While the signs of his musculature were not easily seen, whenever he moved, well defined muscles appeared for short moments before sinking back under his skin. His friction belt made a tiny amount of noise to his ears as that was undone. He released his pants as well, letting gravity do the work for him as he stood up. His massive thighs and thick calves helped propel him to his full height of 6'5" tall. He waited a moment or two to allow himself the time to remember how to move in human form.

He walked over towards her, each step making no noise as his feet rolled onto the ground in an automatic fashion. When he reached Iilsa, his huge hands grabbed each arm, half rolling her, half throwing her onto her stomach on the soft grass further away from the lake's edge. He cocked his head to one side before pinning her to the ground with one hand. The other hand grabbed the band of her pants, violently pulling them down her legs past her knees.

"You not need those. They get in way of mating."

 

[laceandcogs]

The first few seconds of the attack were a blur to Iilsa. How could a man have gotten so close, so silently? She had felt alone, believed herself alone, and a snarl of self-cursing recrimation rose in her mind. However, the cry of surprise and fear that broke her lips was much, much louder.

This man's hand housed a strength that seemed well beyond normal as he held Iilsa on her belly and tore down her shorts. His words made little sense, but, she believed, wood-dwelling nutters were probably not required to be lucid. His insanity was obvious- mating? who said that?- but it would take much more than a little crazy to intimidate Iilsa. Her family had ground the importance of chastity before marriage into her since she was old enough to understand the concept, and damned if she wouldn't die defending it.

Strength, clearly, was not the playing field upon which she could level herself with this man. She hadn't even seen him clearly yet, so she twisted her head and took him in with wide, deliciously frightened eyes, the usually sky-blue color deepened with her fear and anger. Her lips were parted with heavy, adrenaline-inspired breath, but she didn't scream again- not yet.

With a quick jab of her still-booted foot, Iilsa sought to kick out against his ankle, knowing that the weakest spots on a muscled man were his joints. Her hands pressed hard against the ground as she tried to raise herself to her hands and knees, the better to bolt- or, if that proved impossible, to twist, kick, claw and bite until the opportunity to fight was taken from her.

 

[marauder13]

Instead of trying to fight back in the obvious manners, he noticed that she used her head in the fight. He respected a bitch that would fight back, and one that showed cunning and quickness of thought too. The foot lashed out enough to strike his ankle, delivering a sharp painful blow. But like her, he knew how to fight unconventionally too. He let her blow shift his foot and leg, and he dropped down on the fabric between her legs, pinning them to the ground. The momentum continued, and he bent over her smaller body, using his left arm to hold himself up, while the right wrapped around her flat belly, keeping her bent and positioned well for what was to follow.

He remembered that homid bitches came on heat in any season, so she would be ready to mate with him once he courted her properly. He was enjoying the foreplay, as she demonstrated her worthiness for one such as he. He thought she must have known of him, because she visited many times. She took care while in his range, protecting it as well as he did. It was easy to tell that she loved the wilderness as much as he did, but was still a creature of the scab near by. He, too, ventured into the scab, to meet with those of his tribe, and the two legged kin they protected. He knew that the homids stayed near to their own dens and within their ranges, so she had not traveled far to walk his range. If her range was within the scab, then that would work well for them both.

As she pushed against him, getting herself off the ground, the way her body rubbed against his caused him to lengthen and harden. Her soft, warm hindquarters felt good against his readying shaft. He remembered the only other time he mated with a homid, she was a little scared of his shaft, commenting on how big it was. He remembered that homids had strange feelings about such things. As long as it could make a bitch with cubs, then the size meant little.

He bent his head closer to hers, looking into the wide eyes that gazed back at him. He smiled broadly to her, adding a small laugh at her efforts. When he spoke, his voice was low, with a slight growl underneath. But more than anything else, it carried a great strength, almost a commanding tone.

"You have fire in belly and good mind too. Not scared either. This is good. Will make a great mate for This One."

 

[laceandcogs]

Iilsa nearly spat with rage, feeling the psychopath leverage her movements so skillfully. Entangled in her own clothing and steered by his ready strength, her position was becoming more and more compromised. All that stood between her and his quickly swelling cock was her modest white cotton underwear, selected for quality, for durability, and certainly not for looks. Not quite "granny panties", but not the frilly, lacey things that Greta and Loren stashed secretly in their drawers and backpacks.

His words snapped the tenuous leash that Iilsa had thus far kept on her temper. She was far from the hothead that her father and brothers could be, but underneath her well-taught submission, her painstakingly well-mannered behavior, was indeed a "fire in the belly". This bastard might be able to steer her body, but her mind was not done resisting. With a suddenly snapped movement, the speed of which may have surprised even her attacker himself, Iilsa turned her face to his left arm, upon which he propped himself, and sunk her teeth deeply and suddenly into his flesh.

The bite was savage, born of fury and fear and an icy determination to make this man's day as terrible as possible. She knew she could easily lose teeth for it, maybe even her life- but Iilsa would rather leave a well-beaten corpse than be a pretty victim.

 

[marauder13]

The hand that was pressed against Iilsa's belly moved down to find the last barrier between them. Working blindly, he grabbed at the top edge of the material, bunching it firmly in his hand. It took two hard tugs for the fabric to tear enough to expose the region between her legs. His fingers felt some soft downy like hair near her sex. The skin there was warm, a byproduct of her struggles against him than any desire for what was happening. To him, and his limited knowledge, it was a sign of desire.

He saw it as it happened, but didn't have time to react properly. But he was amazed at her willingness to show her strength of will and the courage in her spirit. He watched her bite hard on his arm. The pain was strong as it flowed through is arm. He felt the growing warmth of blood pooling under her lips as she continued to apply the pressure. He roared and growled in pain from the initial contact before he started to chuckle with appreciation.

"This One likes a little rough play. Not everytime." His erection complete, he pinned her hips to his torso with his hand. Without much effort, he lined himself up with her opening, pushing forward until he knew he was properly aligned. Before she had much time to struggle and undo his work, he pushed the entire length and girth of himself into her. He felt her body wrap around him as he continued his invasion. He encountered and easily broke through her maidenhead until he was completely within her. He felt the rush of warmth from her blood, and the tightening around him from the pain. But he found those to both be pleasing to his body.

While she was still moving about frantically, he started to stroke his member in her body, using about half the length. With each thrust into her tightened body, waves of pleasure washed over him in a way unlike when he mated in his breed form. Each thrust was accompanied by a groan that rumbled from deep within his body. He had heard that homids could mate for pleasure as well as to breed, and know he was starting to understand. Soon his focus was on continuing to join with his new mate, and make her truly his.

 

[laceandcogs]

Iilsa hadn't enough time to be disappointed that her bite didn't cause him more pain. The first thrust earned a scream, equal parts pain and disappointment, but as he tore through her virginity, it became much more clearly pained. Her teeth left his arm, and though she tasted his blood she found very little satisfaction there. Her body was racked with tension, trembling lightly as his cock explored her none-too-gently.

She couldn't believe that this was the nearly ceremonial "mating", the marital joy that had been blushingly described in such loose, friendly manner by her mother. This was pain, this was violence, this was subjugation...her eyes closed, and Iilsa softened beneath him, her crushing disappointment in herself leaving her unguarded, limp. She moved one hand to her mouth to stifle her own cries, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her suffer- he seemed to have quite enough satisfaction as it was.

Each of his rumbling groans knifed at her, mocking her and her torment. Her core accepted him a little more easily now as the sharpness of the pain became a dull, burning throb- she had been nowhere near ready for a man of that size, and the stretching sensation that blurred the edges of her reality might have been pleasurable, in another context. Considering her battle already lost, her shame complete, her worth greatly reduced, Iilsa bit hard into her own palm to silence the soft, sharp gasps that accompanied each thrust.

 

[marauder13]

As he knew would happen, once he demonstrated his prowess and willingness to have her as his mate, she finally accepted him as his mating with her. The struggle was gone as she allowed him to continue. Her body started to make it easier for them to mate, allowing him to slide more easily within her. He unknowingly lengthened his strokes so that he was using just short of his complete length.

He couldn't understand how different this time was to the other time he mated with a homid. He experienced enjoyable sensations with that one, and he was told by her and others that she enjoyed it too. But this time, the sensations were stronger, more intense. He was mating with her the same way he did with the other one. He found it hard to think through the enigma that was homid mating. The more he continued the current mating, the more he was lost in the feelings that came with it.

The tension started to grow low within him. His arm tightened around her belly. His thrusting sped up. Feelings he had never experienced before welled within him until the tension exploded out of him. Strong jets of hot fluid shot deep within her as he held his rocking body close to hers. Each pump caused his body to shudder, trying to push himself deeper as it happened. Answering an instinct that was not normal for him, he bent forward and what started as a lightly nip ended in a kiss on the base of her neck.

"Now, we are mates. You will have new life with This One." Again, the urge to kiss her surged, and he kissed her shoulder softly, tenderly. He found her taste, coupled with the sweat, to be delicious. He continued to kiss her softly until he heard the screams and growls of anger.

He withdrew from his mate, standing and looking in the direction that the sounds came from. He raced to where his clothing rested. He grabbed his necklace, throwing it over his head then grabbed his staff. Without pause, he raced into the forest to deal with the newest intruders of his range.

 

[laceandcogs]

Iilsa let out a soft, hitching keen of despair as she felt him orgasm, the heat of his seed solidifying her shame and igniting a panic in the back of her mind. Unlike most girls her age, Iilsa used no birth control- she never expected to need it. This added insult to injury, salt to the wound. In comparison, his surprisingly tender kisses were minor offenses.

His sudden departure left her dazed, but not stupid. Iilsa could be accused of many things, but never stupidity. She pulled up her shorts and climbed to her feet, sore and soiled but still high on adrenaline. Getting away from here, away from him, was the first order of business. But walking into those growls didn't seem bright, either. Seeking a compromise, Iilsa climbed quickly into the stand of rocks further out toward the water, using their irregular crags to hide herself. She tucked into a little cave, pressed far back against the wall, and knew she was well out of sight- but the echo chamber formed by the rocks around her would allow her to hear any approach.

Waiting for silence, Iilsa closed her eyes and focused. She had to make a plan. It couldn't involve going home, not right away- her family would be more deeply shamed by what had happened than she was, and she knew that she could never, ever tell the truth about this attack. Iilsa was a good girl, and always had been, but now she began to plot like every other teenager since the beginning of time- where could she sneak a shower? Did anyone see what she left the house in? Who could she claim to have spent the day with, and how could she ensure that they would back her story?

 

[marauder13]

He had taken no more than three steps before he blurred into a wolf again. With a combination of grace and speed, he threaded his way through the forest. None of the undergrowth obscured his passage as he closed on where the intruders were. He finally got down wind of them, and wished he hadn't. The stench of them turned his stomach as a great rage welled within him. He calmed himself down, letting his instincts guide him into the coming battle. Four clear scents assailed his nose, one of them urging a growl or howl of pure hatred.

He slowed as he got closer. He was fighting on his own territory. He literally had the home ground advantage. He stopped and listened. He had a good idea of how far away they were, and how they were traveling. He moved with great stealth, using their own cries and chatter to hide any noises he made. He reached the bend in the low ground they were walking. The area was a little larger than the land they had been walking through. There would be enough space for him to fight, as well as giving good cover to ambush from. Plus, if he timed it right, he could make it harder for them to fight back. But he reached there before they arrived. He tapped into the boiling anger within him, and shifted to his war form.

The wolfman was huge. The bipedal wolf headed, fur covered humanoid figure raised itself to its full 9'6" height. Muscle rippled underneath as it stretched before crouching down ready to pounce. The five foot long dead fall staff looked small in the large talon tipped hands. The snout was full of large teeth set into a jaw that was made for crushing bones with considerable ease.

The first one to come into view was once a human being. She had lank brown hair that hung in patches from her skull. She had no nose as a person would, but something more akin to a pig's snout. She was not dressed, and her body showed the signs of a general lack of care. Her skin was mottled pale gray, inflamed red and sickly shades of green. She ran on all fours, her legs shorter than normal, and her arms longer. She paused and sniffed the ground, squealing and grunting softly before moving on.

Following her were two men by their appearance. Both looked like extras from a B-Grade hillbilly horror film. One was tall and lean, wearing a flannel shirt, jeans and boots. The other was slightly shorter, but was obese. His skin glistened with sweat, he looked flushed from exertion. He also wore a flannel shirt under a heavily strained pair of overalls. Both of them carried rifles. Even at the distance they were away from him, he sensed the presence of silver within the weapons.

The final figure was the one that concerned and angered him the most. Maybe a full head shorter than him, the scabrous wolfman was the colour of dirty snow wherever her fur grow. The ears were more bat like than those found on a wolf. Its teeth were broken, jagged and probably harbouring all forms of toxins. Across her body were numerous ugly scars from previous battles that it had survived. Only one of her breasts had survived one of the previous fights.

He lunged into the midst of his enemies with a mighty roar that echoed through the forest. The hand not holding the staff raked the obese man's legs, the long talons tearing great chunks of flesh from fat man's thighs. The staff was slammed through the body of the slimmer hillbilly, shattering ribs as it tore the man's heart out the front of his chest. He spun quickly to put the dead body between him and the other gun bearing man. The stench ridden wolfman leapt into the fight. Her jaws locked around the bicep of the defender. Blood and small pieces of flesh sprayed everywhere as he also howled in pain. His free arm swung around, punching two of his talons into the body of his attacker.

The obese hillbilly recovered enough to point his gun in the direction of the brawl, firing once and working the bolt of the firearm. The loud blast was ignored by the two larger combatants as the bullet tore a hole in the other hillbilly. The scabrous wolfman started to worry the bitten arm, causing greater pain and injury to him. The action of his enemy served him well, freeing the corpse from the staff. He pulled his other hand free of her body, drawing it back to slam the base of his palm into the lower part of her snout. He felt the teeth grate along the bone as flesh was torn free, and blood washed over the biter's face. Teeth broke under the impact, and the snout was compressed too.

He took a long sideways step and crushed the fat man's pelvis. His scream of pain was drowned out by the rifle shot that lodged a bullet in his belly. The fire born pain lanced through his body, searing his flesh as the holiest of metals buried itself further into his torso. The distraction of the new wound created an opening for the scabrous one. With a loud howl, she took a swipe at her foe. Flesh tore with a sickening noise. Her talons drive deep into his gut, tearing intestines easily. Again the air was filled with howls of triumph, pain and rage.

The tracker returned and joined the fight. It raced up slamming itself against his legs. Combined with the pressure of the other one, he fell over with her pinning him down. The action drove her hand through his lower torso until it struck dirt. But he gave a canine smile with a growl as he slammed the top of the staff into her side. He yelled out a single word, calling into the sky. The staff glowed with a soft green light. The wolfman that was attacking him howled in pain and jumped away, clutching the point of contact. It began to swell, before exploding with a yellow pus that drained from the eruption site. She roared and prepared to throw herself back at him when she convulsed violently. Even her wolf face easily showed the panic that well within her. She doubled over, vomiting blood. She sank to her knees as she laboured for breath, vomiting further. He snapped the neck of the tracker before thrusting his hand into the mess of his abdomen. He pulled out some of his flesh along with the smoking bullet which he threw away. The female let out one last gurgling cry before falling to the ground, dead.

He stood up, turning his face to the sky, howling his triumph in battle. He growled and snarled, his jaw moving as if he was working on eating a troublesome bone. Both his hands rested on his torn torso, covering the gaping wound. His hands glowed a soft rosy colour, and the damage slowly disappeared. His breathing grew easier as the pain was taken away as well. He did the same for his arm. The missing chunk of his arm slowly filled out, the muscle and bone reforming.

He shimmered once more, his outline blurring as he retook human form. He walked over to the body of the other wolfman, who was now merely a naked woman with a horrid skin infection. He knelt down, and spoke in a guttural language, moving his hands in a precise manner. He continued for about five minutes. The air cleared, smelling more like the forest and less of the stench of defilement and corruption. He performed the same for the other three bodies. Satisfied, he left their corpses where they laid, walking back to rejoin his mate.

He sauntered back into the clearing, the thrill of victory still echoing through his mind, body and spirit. He stopped as he reached the clearing, and he looked around to see where his mate was. His initial looking saw so signs of violence. He relaxed a little. He walked to his clothing, and slowly put it on, struggling with the zipper of his jeans. He began to shimmer and blur again, becoming the mottled, enormous wolf that he was born as.

Immediately, his nose captured the wealth of information carried by the numerous scents of his surrounds. He found the place where they mated, quickly singling out her scent from the olfactory cacophony. He easily tracked her path, again pleased that his mate showed cunning and wisdom by hiding herself. She chose somewhere that was easy for him to walk in his wolf form. He came to the entrance to the cave, pausing. She was inside, and he could smell the fear rolling off her. He gave her a little 'wuff' like snort. He walked in half way before he sat down. He made no threatening moves. He just sat there, watching her and waiting to see how she would react to his presence.

 

[laceandcogs]

And here Iilsa had thought that things couldn't get any worse. While her attacker was gone, she had secured the tiny mace canister from her keyring, and clutched it close, ready to use it if he returned. Of course, she didn't think it was going to help much against a wolf, even if that wolf was curiously lacking in slavering maws. Iilsa cursed herself for selecting this cave- she had chosen it to hide in, but it did lack a certain quality of escapability that she would have greatly enjoyed right now.

Still, sitting and waiting to die was not really Iilsa's style. She moved slowly, swinging her legs in front of her, keeping the mace in one hand and attempting to scoot closer to the mouth of the cave. Her eyes remained on the wolf, but not making eye contact- she had some vague idea that making eye contact with a dog would be seen as a challenge, and wolves were really a lot like dogs...weren't they? Damnit, Jim, Iilsa thought, I'm a doctor, not a wildlife biologist!

The shakiness of the little laugh that followed that thought testified to the state of her mind every bit as deeply as the thought itself did. She was sore, she was frightened, she was traumatized, and it seemed that she was about to top all that with a nice big cherry of being eaten by a wild creature. Since this day couldn't get any worse, it seemed like it wasn't about to get any better, either.

Iilsa forgot all about her decision not to go home, her carefully laid plans to shower, change, pretend she'd been at the gym all day. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to lock the door of her pristine yellow and white bedroom, curl up in the middle of her big princess bed, and sleep for weeks, safe away from madmen and wolves.

 

[marauder13]

He watched her carefully. He knew that his mate had no way of knowing that the wolf and the man were the same. Not yet anyway. But his main concern was her safety and health. He could smell the sex on her, as well as a healthy dose of fear. He half lurched from his sitting position when he smell blood coming from her. She was injured! He trotted back to the mouth of the cave, sniffing the ground. There was nothing apart from them on the pathway to the cave. He looked over his shoulder at her, confused by this discovery.

He returned to the clearing, again sniffling the ground carefully. He found three sources of blood where they mated. One was mixed with the smell of her sex, and some of his. The next was from when she bit his arm. The final source, which was also just blood, had exactly the same scent as that he detected in the cave.

'She was hurt during mating?' He remember clearly every action he took, and at no time did he bite her hard enough to draw blood, nor did he scratch her. He looked back in the direction of the track leading to the cave, his face managing to reflect the confusion within him. He padded closer to where the track started, shifted back to his homid form.

He sat down, cross legged, with the staff laid across his legs. He looked out over the lake, then slowly rested his hands on the natural branch. He started to sing. The words were Navajo, a song to the spirits. As the song progressed, his hands caressed the bare wood. Toward the upper end of the staff, where the wood was thicker, a small piece of termite groove began to glow. There area glowed with golden light, as if the grooves in the wood were being filled with gold. He looked at the small, snake like image, basking in its golden light. He smiled, happy that the spirit within was not displeased with his calling on Her help during the fight.

 

[laceandcogs]

The wolf's complete lack of interest in her did seem to improve the situation, and Iilsa carefully climbed out of the cave, cursing softly under her breath at the fact that he was yet again out there. At least he seemed busy, staring at that stick in his lap like it held the answer to life, the universe, and everything. She kept her mace at the ready, finger on the trigger, and her eyes on him as she took a long circle around behind him. If she could get back to the parking lot, she'd be fine. She didn't think she'd even walked for that long, though all of her memories were a bit fuzzy at the moment. Ah, the warm comfort of post-traumatic stress disorder, she thought.

No. No, there was no trauma, so there's no stress. Nothing happened, and no one will ever know any differently. You're nowhere near that time of the month, you'll be fine, you'll be fine... Iilsa's internal monologue blotted out the worry temporarily, but she was smart enough to know that lying to onesself never worked for long. Still, in a world of limited resources, she had always made the best of what she had. Today would be no different. She would not allow today to be any different.

Iilsa did her best to remain silent, though of course not even the quietest human can go unnoticed by an interested garou.

 

[marauder13]

A wolf's hearing is far superior to that of a homid. But the Garou's hearing was bound to that of the form he was in. But in homid form, this Garou's hearing was very good for a human. He heard the small sounds of movement while he sat. When he determined that she was not closing on him, he stood.

He took the time to observe her properly, with a homid's eye. She was tall, but still about half a head shorter that he was. She was slim, with good curves in the right places. Her body moved well as she walked further away from him. He could still sense the fight within her, restrained to serve her purposes rather than its own. He sensed that she was a lupus soul born within a homid's body. Either way, it mattered little to him, as he selected her to be his mate, and he would honour that decision.

He walked in her direction, easily closing the distance between them. When he got with in reach of her, his hand came to a gentle rest on her shoulder.

"Wait."

 

[laceandcogs]

Iilsa would not lie to herself- she was afraid of this man, a fear that only grew as his hand settled on her shoulder. But rarely, Iilsa's anger would surpass her fear, push ravening beyond the borders of her control, and she would exhibit for just a few moments the rage that marked the tribe of her father. This was one of those very few moments.

She turned, her normally pale blue eyes gone dark and hot with hate, her face remarkably composed and unusually pale- save for a half-dollar sized circle of bright red high on each cheek. Iilsa surprised herself- she had never thought that she would enjoy harming someone else, but after everything this madman had made her think, feel, and do within the brief span of the last hour, emptying her canister of mace into his face was going to be surprisingly satisfying.

Iilsa quickly raised the can and depressed the trigger with a soft cry of hate, the spray released directly into his face. She would hold the trigger until the can was empty, and then she would run, and she had the sneaking suspicion that both of those acts would be steadied by a glad heart.

 

[marauder13]

His hand had barely touched her shoulder when she spun to face him. He saw her eyes had darkened in colour, which fascinated him. He was looking squarely at her eyes, marveling at the shade they took. He knew them to be lighter colour when he first saw them. He wondered how she managed to achieve such a wondrous shift in colour, and if it were possible for him to do the same.

He noticed the can coming into view moments before the liquid splashed onto his face. It felt surprising cool on his skin as the stream was moved across his face. His eyes shut as his vision blurred from the unknown liquid. He brought a hand up to cut of the flow but it ceased before he could stop it himself. There was the slightest tingle in his eyes, and on his skin. He felt the fumes of whatever she sprayed on him tickle his throat as he inhaled it. When his eyes opened again, he saw her blurry form running away up the track. He knew that the liquid was meant to hurt him in some way, but one of Gaia's blessings to him, and those of his tribe, made it not effect him. He sneezed from the irritation to his nose. With a swipe of his hand, he cleared his eyes.

The actions of his mate were now clearly confusing him. Dropping his staff, he took off after her at a flat run. She was fast and agile, but his knowledge of the path was better, allowing him to catch up with her about half way along the path. He tackled her, wrapping his arms around her waist before dropping them to her ankles. He launched himself to his feet, quickly flinging her over his shoulder and walked her back to the clearing by the lake.

 

[laceandcogs]

Iilsa's cry of rage was a thing of beauty. She had been certain, -certain- that the mace would give her the time she needed to get away. To feel his arms wrap around her waist and sack her over his shoulder like an unruly child was dispirting beyond compare.

Here, in the clearing by the lake, Iilsa decided to try to reason with him. She spoke in as level and sweet a voice as she could muster, as if she were giving her order to a waiter and not bargaining for her freedom with Mr. Whackjob Woodshobo 2010. "Could you please explain why it is you keep bringing me back here? If it's just to kill me, I really feel like you could have done that at least half a dozen times by now."

 

[marauder13]

He returned her to the place of their mating, dropping her to the ground a little more roughly than he wanted. He was now clearly confused by how she was acting. He thought she enjoyed their mating, but now he was not. Still, she was his mate, and she needed to be cared for.

"Could you please explain why it is you keep bringing me back here? If it's just to kill me, I really feel like you could have done that at least half a dozen times by now."

"This One thought you were smart. But if you think This One means to kill you, you are stupid. If This One wanted you dead, you would be dead. Now, quiet!"

He lifted her hand, turning her bitten palm to face her. He called on another of the many of Gaia's gifts. He felt the flow of Gaia's power through him, warming her hand gently. He could feel the damage fading as the power flowed through her, healing her without pain. He watched her face as he demonstrated how he would care for her.

"If This One wanted to kill This One's mate, why would This One heal you?"

 

[laceandcogs]

Iilsa couldn't quite grasp the fact that somehow, he had cured her just by touching her. She'd felt a strange warmth, a shivering golden sensation that nagged at the edge of her memory- as though she should recognize this, know what to call it, know what it meant- the frustration creased her brow even as his words sunk in. Looking up at him with a confused but no longer terrified or angry expression, Iilsa made no move to pull her hand from his.

"Mate." Not a question, not an accusation...at least, not this time. She was testing the word, feeling its weight, its roundness against her tongue. But still, rape was not generally a tactic of flirtation. Was it really possible that he wasn't even aware that he had so greatly trespassed? "Why do y... why does This One think I am his mate?" She was no longer using that fake, bright voice she'd employed earlier, her current question genuinely open to his answer, her porcelain features arranged in a contemplative gaze.

Beneath the sense of security that that prickling gold warmth had instilled in her, Iilsa knew that the ability to heal by touch was not normal, that really she must have been hallucinating, that insanity may have become a sexually-transmitted disease... but if she was going to acknowledge the favor he'd done her in healing her self-inflicted and probably nastily infectable wound, she could at least listen to This One's version of events. However, they were definitely going to have to work on something else for her to call him- This One was awkward, and Iilsa pictured endless loops of "who's on first" sorts of conversations.

 

[marauder13]

He frowned as she once more seemed to change how she was reacting. She had been fighting him, trying to run from him. She didn't run from him like most homids would have, she stood her ground and fought back. There was only one type of homid that would behave like that. That was kinfolk.

"Mate." It was simply spoken. He couldn't understand why she spoke it as she did.

"Why do y... why does This One think I am his mate?"

Again there was confusion, followed by the realization that they didn't even know each other's names. For him, names were not that important as they were a homid thing, not a lupus one. But since he was wanting to learn more of the homid ways, he needed to do as they did, and work to make them more comfortable.

"This One's name amongst those like you is Tim. You are my mate because that is what we have done. You keep coming into This One's range. You like the feel of range. Come back many times. Used to come with others. Then come alone. This One watched you when you enter range. This One decide that when time came to take mate, would take you. You are healthy, have clean scent. Not carry scent of other on you that say you are mated. You have wisdom, courage, bravery that This One like."

Again, he looked at her intensely from head to foot. Unlike other men, his focus was not on obvious places like her breasts or ass. He concentrated on her eyes, her neck and her legs. Even then, it was not sexual, though it was somewhat primal. He even sniffed noticeably a few times when the wind shifted and favoured him.

"What tribe are you?"

 

[laceandcogs]

Iilsa tried to follow the flow of Tim's conversation, pleased to finally have something to call him. With a frown that served to eloquently question his sanity, she gently freed her hand from his.

"Tim, I understand that you might think that we... mated, but among 'those like me', we would call 'mating' a felony. The fact that I don't reek of another man is not an invitation to rape me. Rape is not generally something that makes a woman like you very much, and to that end I feel the need to tell you that I think you're batfuck crazy and if I could kill you with my mind, I would have done so half an hour ago. As soon as I can manage it, I'm going to go home, shower in boiling bleach, and pretend that everything that's occurred in the last hour was a terrible dream. If you persist in keeping me here, I will never pass up an opportunity to make your life unpleasant." Noticably absent in this message was any hint of malice- for all the sweetness and casual, conversational tone in Iilsa's voice, she could have been discussing flavors of ice cream or the benefits of cashmere over pashmina.

It was precisely this sort of pristinely casual murderousness that would make it clear to any Garou that Iilsa was as purebred a Get of Fenris kin as you were ever likely to meet. She prided herself on controlling her temper, as neatly and frequently as possible. However, Iilsa's feelings on Tim had migrated into that warm, happy center of vituperative hate where she would happily slide a knife between his ribs and bake a batch of brownies while he bled out on her floor.

The rape was enough to make her angry, but this obliviousness to the immorality of his actions was really starting to dance on her last nerve. If Iilsa had known more about her heritage, she might have realized that Tim's "idiocy" was really just the straightforward, unencumbered thought process of an adult male Lupus. She would have understood it much better, perhaps even been able to follow the logical leaps that currently seemed like the segue-free rationalizations of a madman. Whether she would have been any less gripped by her icy bloodlust is a completely different question.

 

[marauder13]

Tim's grasp of homid inflection and use of sarcasm and similar techniques was slim, but he recognized it this time. He ignored her tone of voice, and focused on the words. A few of her words he was not sure of, and could only guess at. But when she finished talking to him, it was clear in his mind exactly what she thought had happened and how she felt about it.

"Hmmpf. Fenrir." He nodded slowly to himself. Not many of the other tribes would carry a rage within them in such a manner. Maybe Shadow Lord kin, but they were less dominant in their behaviour than his mate.

"Tell This One, Mate, why did mate come into range of This One so often, when others not come? Why doesn't Mate want to run from This One in fear, like other homids would? Does Mate have family that make other homids full of fear, even when family one not do anything to cause fear?

"This One knows what 'rape' means. This One not mean to rape, This One simply want to take a good mate. This One would mate with own kin, or those of same as kin. But kin are few in number, due to homid hunters. Mate might think This One is batfuck crazy, but This One is far from crazy."

Tim looked over his mate again, clearly feeling the anger and desire to act on it radiating from her. She would fight him, and he would roll with it as she learned of her new life. What concerned him the greatest was that she was obviously Garou kinfolk, but she didn't know. This would not stand. He started to speak in the tongue of the Garou, calling out to one of the spirits to aid him in his time of need.

There was a slight rustle in the undergrowth to his right. He turned to see a wolf spirit, manifest in the world, pad over to where they sat. Tim placed an reassuring hand on his mate while the spirit closed. It sat down a few feet away from them, ignoring Iilsa as it 'spoke' to Tim in a series of growls, yips, whines and other canid sounds.

"One called?"

"Yes, This One did. This One's mate has old pack in Scab. Old pack have Garou, and need to be told their female is safe. Will One share wisdom with Mate's old pack for This one?"

"One will offer bounty in thanks?"

"This One will share kill."

"One will do as asked."

"This One is honoured. Thank you."

The spiritual wolf moved closer to Iilsa, taking one inhale close to her skin. The wolf turned and padded off, fading with each step until it had disappeared. Tim waited until that time before standing up, offering his hand to Iilsa. It was one of the few gestures of the homids that he remembered that was safe to do for others.

"Come. Family told that Mate is still alive, and there is no need to fear for you. This One will take Mate to new home."

 

[laceandcogs]

Tim's accurate description of her family shook Iilsa ever so slightly. She had only recently begun to notice how people scraped and scuttled before her father, how they avoided catching the eyes of her brothers. In her youth, she had been distracted, secure in the idea that her father and her family loved her and cherished her. It was only with the dawning realization that she was valued for her bride-price and not her person that she began to really watch the way the men in her life moved, the way they spoke, the way they looked at others- and it was unpleasant.

The ghost-wolf sniffing at her really ought to have troubled her more deeply than it did, but Iilsa was fresh out of surprise, and running rather low on fight. Still, it would be a cold day in Hell before she let Tim take her hand. Standing, she folded her arms across her waist, and inclined her head in a "get on with it" gesture. "Thank you for letting them know, Tim, but I don't think they'll be worried so much as enraged. If they realize where I really went today, which eventually they will, I'm afraid you'll have a fight on your hands."

It was not at all disingenuous to say that Iilsa did fear her family coming to find her here. Save whatever may happen to Tim, which could nearly be considered the high point of her day, she knew that the shame, recrimination, and disappointment would roll off her father in palpable waves. She had been given one task, one command, and she had failed miserably in its execution. Iilsa's stomach flipped with barely-controlled self-loathing as she waited for Tim to lead her on.