Machidael is by me!

Oooh, yes, yes, yes, yes! the she-wolf said, wriggling and writhing. Her breath came in great heaves, her head tossed back. She shoved her hips against Machidael as the smaller hybrid bent over her form. He supported himself with one arm, using the other to hold the the woman's muzzle shut. Verenna -- at least, that's what he thought her name was. Even with his hand clamped over her mouth, she murmured and squeaked. There was wetness against his fingers, and Machi ceased thrusting for his surprise, almost drawing his hand back. She nibbled on his digits with a smile and blinked big, pale eyes at him.

More? she asked, her half-pleading voice muffled by his fingers. Verenna lifted her hips and pushed up against him. With a huff, the jackal yanked backward, pulling out of her completely. The rust-hued canid flipped her over and onto her stomach. Though she outsized him, she was thin and travel-weak -- and entirely willing to go whichever direction he pushed her. A few moments of furious thrusting later and Machi finished with a grunt. He remained only a moment before removing himself, collapsing back against a wall. Verenna almost fell when he released her, but was quick to turn around and crawl toward him.

She shoved herself into the crook of his arm. Machi let this stand a moment, his chest rising and falling rapidly. When the tingles of pleasure completely faded, the hybrid pulled his arm away from the dusty brown hybrid and grimaced. Food, he said. Hunt, go. He pushed at her, and when the she-wolf stood, reached up and slapped at her ass. She did at least have a lovely figure -- even lovelier when filled out and properly fed, he suspected -- and it was for this reason he'd kept her company the past few weeks. He watched it as she scurried away, red eyes lingering on the sharp curve of hip. She turned around and shot a grin toward him, and Machidael's gaze caught the wiggle of her breasts as she bounced on her toes. He waved a hand dismissively all the same, wanting food far more than he wanted to watch her prance around.

That, and other reasons. The rusty-furred hybrid had been hurt rather well, and Verenna's ability to almost mother him was welcome, at least during his time of need. She hunted, she cleaned, she cooked, she bound his wounds, and she was a ferocious and rather pliable fuck. Best of all, she did all of the above willingly, for reasons even Machi could see, despite their language barrier and his general indifference as to her feelings. She'd hinted desperately at mateship from the moment they met, and as of yesterday, she'd outright asked him for it. As one might have guessed, his response was a resounding "fuck off" -- albeit in Arabic.

The rust-hued hybrid did not quite know why he appealed to her; though he accepted her womanly gifts, he was growing tired of her mateship dance and was entirely disinterested. Perhaps, in her mind, they were already man and wife -- he just didn't know it yet? The thought disquieted him, and the hybrid gave a grunt as he sat up and reached for his tobacco. He had a cigarette rolled and was lighting it when he realized he ought to have asked Verenna to scavenge alcohol, too. He cursed under his breath.

Long after the smoke was done and out, Verenna returned. In each hand, she held a large fish. Machi glowered in dismay, and Verenna stopped a few feet from him, hesitating. I say hunt. He stood up and grabbed her wrists, shaking them until she dropped both fish. They were on the floor and he shoved his way inside her again. Part of him wanted to see just how far he could push her. His fingers curled into her hair and he yanked, pulling her head back. Her yelp was one of half-ecstasy, so he twisted. She twisted her body with her hair, and a wave of pleasure coursed through the jackal. He yanked harder and drove his other hand against her buttocks, open-palmed. Her body jumped with the impact, hips bucking up and into his own.

Her cries were wordless garble as his teeth sank into her throat. The rust-streaked hybrid held her neck in his teeth and pummeled her into the ground. He bit down hard enough to draw blood as he finished, eliciting a half-howl, half-scream from Verenna. He withdrew from the trembling woman and stood up, brushing himself off. She remained on the floor, breathing rapidly, until he toed her with a claw. Cook, he said. He did not want to eat raw fish.

The earthen-hued hybrid sat up with a whimper and rubbed at her neck. A smear of white stood out against the deep brown of her fur. Machi curled his lip, but when Verenna saw, she looked back up at Machidael with a smile. I'll have your babies, she cooed, sitting up. Little Machidaels and Verennas, the coywolf said, sighing out a slow breath. Then you'll have to take me as your mate.

Machi looked at her with the calmest expression he could muster, studying the streaks of red against her neck. Little idiot, he said, in Arabic. I would not fuck you if not for the possibility of babies. He mumured this as if he was professing to love her. Machi was careful to express only the vaguest sentiments in English around Verenna so she might think him a kindly foreigner with just too few words for pleasantries. In truth, he was curious. They'd been together for just under two weeks at this point, and he'd had her multiple times each day. Would she bear his children? His mate had never become pregnant, and his previous playthings had spent too brief a time with him to have conceived.

The rusty hybrid watched the woman as she lit a fire and set about cooking. Now and again, she babbled something in English, and Machidael responded with a yes or no, or nothing at all if he wished to pretend he did not understand. He understood most of her words well enough -- speaking was the problem, not understanding. Being around her was helping his comprehension, admittedly.

... and you haven't even seen me in heat, she was saying, bending over in front of him as she tended the fire. Her thigh brushed against his knee, and she lowered herself into his lap. The hybrid gave a grunt and pushed her off, although gently. I'll be the best mate ever, I promise, Machidael. I love you, she said, chattering away enough for both sides of a conversation regardless of what Machidael said.

When the fish was cooked, Machidael wolfed his portion down. Verenna ate more daintily, smiling at Machi now and again as she licked grease from her muzzle. The jackal leered at her and gave her the occasional gold-toothed grin. When she was finished eating, the jackal gestured for her to come closer and had her a third time, thinking of sons and daughters as he did. Machi was half asleep when he became aware of Verenna moving about their little camp. He sat up with a groan and rubbed at his injury. Where go? he asked.

Oh, just scavenging, she said. Verenna bent to pick a burning branch from the fire; it glowed in her hand. She smiled warmly. I'll bring you back some things. Alcohol, my dearest? The russet hybrid yawned widely and nodded his agreement, falling back into his stupor.