That was true. They had plenty of blankets. Not that Kiko cared about any of them at that moment. She was much too busy re-acquainting her mouth with all of his skin she could find.
Eventually, when she could no longer recall how her body felt without his touch those frenzied snatches for his flesh faded to slower and savored things. It was always that way when she returned home after a trip to the Garou.
Kiko opened her amber eyes and ran them from his hips to his chest and on upward. She stopped when finding his vivid blue eyes.
Grayell was home in that gaze, the gorgeous creature he claimed as his, this beautiful woman that gave her all to him lurking over him as a predator one moment and then the lover that he too missed in each breath.
"I missed thee. I sighed with the wind, cried with the rain. But all of these thing were of joy my love, because in those lone moments I was left to contemplate the gift you are to me.
Kiko dragged her hand out along his shoulder. She had ended up, like normal, draped along the length of his side and hip. They still had not bothered with blankets, and her eyes had slid closed when he spoke.
The Wolf's love, and the Garou had made it easier for Kiko to accept several things. One of those things was the fact he, or anyone, wanted her around. She rested her face against his jaw, rubbing at him in the manner of wolves.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
He did not move, other then to shift his head in order to relish her nuzzling; and his hand clutching at the blankets and drawing them over them both. Rain began to fall on their humble home, the chorus of the forest birds perfectly complimentary to the sounds of the world around them.
He was happy here, his world complete. But she had been gone and never was he not wanting to bathe in her presence, so he held her, shared his their warmth; and with countless gestures of adoration and soft spoken words, they whittled the hours away.
Kiko came up out of the wreathing blankets to mist slithering through the tree tops. The rain from the evening before was no longer falling and the dawn air was humid with moisture. She untangled her arms and legs from around the Wolf's body. Silently she set about straightening up from the day before.
The treehouse did not gather clutter. Neither her nor the Wolf cared much for material things. They had the best view for miles around. What thing could match up to that? She got dressed, too; armor and weaponry. She had noticed a new den beneath the roots of a grand old oak on her way home.
Right now was a excellent time to see who had decided, like the Wolf, to make their home in a tree. She was quiet and unobtrusive while traveling what amounted to a game trail. Kiko made no noise that might startle the newcomer or newcomers if her hunch was correct. In fact, she had become so quiet that her footsteps never frightened the deer who frequented this same forest, and that was saying something these days.
The influx of new people to Wistvale were not always of the genial variety. The forest surrounding Kiko and Grayell's home had been subject to a whole new slew of poachers recently.
She came to a halt several footsteps from the tree. The mist was burning off quickly. If someone was denning here they would either be waking up or returning home. She settled down beside a thicket of grass to wait. It was the sounds she heard first. The small cries of excitement, whimpers, and short snarls. Kiko lifted her head up off her knees to see a tangle of wolf pups scrambling about the front of the den.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Woke up when his mind finally registered the warmth gone. Before his eyes even opened, his limbs felt for her and found nothing. He opened groggy eyes and looked to find her absent... and he smiled a little. He spread himself out on the bed, taking up as much as he possibly could. But he snatched the blanket at where she lay and brought it up to his nose so he could smell her and smiled still, his eyes closing once more.
Kiko stayed right where she was at. Sure enough, and only seconds later the gray furred form of an adult wolf was surrounded by a mob of puppies. She stood there patiently while each and every pup did their very best to get the majority of her attention. Eventually, their boundless enthusiasm waned and she circled the den before nestling against the roots of the tree.
It was plain to see she was exhausted. Her flanks were heaving with effort, her nostrils were wide open, as was her mouth. She panted heavily while the puppies shoved, nosed, and squirmed their way closer to her belly.
Kiko waited several more minutes but the male that she expected to see did not appear. Where was he? He would not have left his family, not while his pups were still nursing. She slid out of the thicket as quietly as she had appeared. She did not want to disturb them, or cause the mother grief.
Maybe the male had ranged farther out in search of food.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Grayell rolled over, sighing wistfully and yawning a little. He stretched out, his full length quite exaggerated when laying on his back, toes curling and his chin tucked to his chest in a long whine.
It lasts a moment and he then relaxes hurriedly, switching from entire tension to complete and total relaxation. The sun filtered through the house and bathed him with it's warmth and he smiled... til it struck his eyes. He frowned then, blinking and trying to wave it off with his hand; before resigning himself to it being time to get up.
Feet slipping to the floor, he grumbles. He gets to his feet, scratching at his lower stomach and shuffling from the bedroom, yawning.
It was tempting to watch the family of wolves for the rest of the day. But, Kiko had spent weeks away from home, and after seeing this display of excitement and affection she wanted, no she needed, to feel the Wolf's arms wrapped around her. He was probably awake now. He was probably hungry, too. Her stomach growled in response to that thought.
She gave one last look back over her shoulder. The sounds coming from the roots of the tree had been silenced. The puppies were asleep with their bellies swollen out into round little balls.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Grayell had rummaged about the house and was chewing on some jerked meat as he tied up his gear, prepping himself for a quick jaunt into the wilderness to check his snares and preferably secure a decent meal.
If he was quick and quiet, he might just have something ready for her when she returned. He wasn't a great chef or so much as a humble cook; but it was a gesture he hoped to make in welcoming her home.
He tugged the his armour tighter about his shoulders and then vaulted from the balconey, heading into the trees on the hill away from Wistvale.
Kiko returned to the clearing at a slower pace. She was hoping to spot some signs of the male. That hope was dashed, too. It bothered her, especially with all the recent spats of poaching. She stopped and took a good long look around the clearing. She had missed the quiet splendor of these woods.
She enjoyed the time spent with the Garou. They were quite keen for her to understand the half shape that was the basis of their lives. Unlike them Kiko was not born Garou. And while she knew plenty about shapechangers, that knowledge was tangled up with very ugly childhood memories. Not so the Garou, there was no stigma attached to them which had influenced Kiko's life. Grayell had done what he could to help her, that was true. But, ultimately, it was something everyone had to make peace with, physically and mentally.
She still had days when the wolf fought for dominion in her head but those were few. Today her and the wolf were of one mind and purpose.
Grayell had snatched up his hunting spear before leaving, he wasn't a deft hand with the bow these days but found he could manage quite well with a spear. Of course, he had to run his prey down and that was almost the hardest part - after tracking and finding it of course.
But this part of the woods - the part of the woods he thought Kiko and he had the sole enjoyment of - were marred by tracks. Booted tracks. The men that had wound their way through here were a destructive lot, leaving too much sign and worse still, smelled of liquor and blood.
No hunter did so while drunk. These were far more likely sporting types, assholes that didn't observe any form of decency when looking to feed their families. No, they hunted for the fur trade, or trophies...
The laws about Wistvale were not stringent enough. But the sanctuary of the area had been kept due to his and Kiko's diligence in haunting the woods and making them terribly foreboding for anyone who had no business in them.
It may be one of those days. The Gray Ghost as it were. Ghost or not, he gave chase, intent on seeing just what havoc these 'men' might have caused in his home.
Kiko knew as soon as she entered the clearing that the Wolf was no longer in the tree house. She did not need to climb the ladder to make sure, either. The clearing always carried more luster when he was here. Still, she did climb, if only to straighten the bed and chose some tea for when he returned.
It did not take long and Kiko hated idle hands. She settled down on the balcony where Grayell had been carving earlier. Her eyes went back over the trees and the immediate area. It was quiet, peaceful, and the wild chirping of birds that had followed her along the path back muted here.
Kiko pulled the small cylindrical map case she always carried from her belt and upended it on to the balcony. She unraveled the loose papers kept inside and snagged a piece of charcoal from the dozen or so that had fallen out with the paper.
She was by no means a talented artist and most of the pages were maps and notations of various places done during travel. She was not looking at the maps, though, but rather an image, one much frayed around the edges. The water and rocks were caught well with a minimum of strokes, as was the figure in the water; poised with a sword extended and the point surrounded by circular ripples.
Kiko took the piece of charcoal and went over the faded lines for probably the hundredth time.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Grayell had wound his way deeper into the woods, the trail changing from erratic to once again being a blundering mess, to the men splitting up to them camping and burning the earth. But all the while, he could smell them; a smell he disliked greatly, a smell that reeked of callousness, murder and of blood.
He was still pursuing, moss crushed and painted down his face now, his torso bare as were his feet, his hair loose as he rippled and flowed through the wilds. He had stored what gear was only encumbering him and now carried nothing but his knife, wore nothing but his pants. Muscle memory and razor honed senses had him navigate the deeper wilds with ease and he knew now, he was gaining on them quickly.
He sprung silently from on thicket and paused, hunkered and low to the ground. He smelled blood stronger here than elsewhere and he knew the scent too well. He growled as a sickening realization rolled in his gut and his eyes led his feet through a mess of foliage until he found the old boy.
His leg trapped, near torn in his desperation to be free. His side riddled with arrows. His tail, his paws, cut off and tossed aside... and his teeth beat in with whatever crude stone or weapon these poachers had decided was a bitch enough tool to see to the task.
Grayell's hands became tight balls or trembling anguish, his eyes welled with rage at this sight, his shoulders hunched and shook with anger, his teeth grinding enough to be heard...
They had dishonoured the old wolf. In the most disgusting, most completely sadistic, reckless way imaginable.
He screamed in his mind and choked the noise back, he roared in his lust to murder things called men that would do such a callous thing, he cried in sheer rage and choked on it, the yell of torment and absolute hatred that he needed to voice being reduced to little more than a pathetic whelp of sound. His eyes closed hard and he turn and slammed his hand into whatever was closest, barking aloud and spitting, still fighting to not call out.
He found some control in a dreadful gasp of air and when those eyes opened, they were nothing but wells of sinister intent, purpose to visit hell like none other had known upon the bastards responsible.
Grayell stole his way into the trees and ran, leaped and travelled faster than any man could, faster than any of the animals in these wilds. He was an arrow, straight and true and would let nothing, no one thing slow his path until he was on their heels.
Last Edit: Jun 21, 2012 19:43:39 GMT -5 by Grayell
Kiko had finished re-sketching the faded lines. She had drawn the image on their first journey. Her fingers went over it and over it; as if touching the drawing would cause him to leap off the page and on to the balcony beside her.
It did not happen, naturally, as such things were only legend. Kiko shook her head. Where was he anyway? She stood up, brushed her hands off, and stowed the maps and drawing back into the case. The sun was pouring almost straight down into the center of the clearing. If he had gone to get breakfast he was late. Extremely so.
It was right about that moment, when she was wondering where he was and he was coming across the corpse of a missing male wolf, Kiko was hit with a wave of rage so powerful it dropped her to her knees. She buried her head in her hands blocking out all outer distractions.
Wolf!
The shout went off in her head. What had gone wrong? When she left this morning he was still asleep, happily. But now all she could feel was murderous fury.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”