[P] [M] plaything

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Specifically, this thread is marked mature because of: overall creepiness and sexual themes.

He emerged from her house that morning, reeking of her, reeking of that, hair disheveled and fur a frightful mess. Ordinarily, Rand would wear the signs of his obvious nightly interactions as a badge of pride, but with her, it was a bit different. Wither was... odd, and he didn't necessarily want to be associated with her in the minds of others. Especially not when there were still others here he wanted to get to know more, even more so than he knew her.

And as it stood, Rand knew about every square inch of that blonde, but the appeal was wearing off quicker than he had expected. The idea of being tied down to her was a sobering one, indeed.

Slipping from her house, he was relieved to see not a soul in sight in the Square. That would make his escape to the sea a bit easier. Just a little trip to the coast and an inconspicuous dip in the freezing waters. Perhaps if he prayed fervently enough to his Goddess he wouldn't shrivel up and die the moment his toes touched the surface.

Somehow, some of his braids had survived the carnal encounter, and he raked his long nails through his mane in a futile attempt to free them, but it only ended up in the silvery hair being knotted in the bands. With a scoff and a few choice words muttered under his breath, the priest slowed his pace just enough so he could focus on yanking them out, but to little avail.

She was beginning to take much more effort than he cared to exert, Rand thought.
for dorian! >) rand is, uh... a lil smelly (if you know what im sayin) and suspicous rn LOL
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You're kinda sus but I don't know why...
The world was his oyster, but Dorian didn't have the same amount of interest in shellfish as his mother had. Still, he was free to explore the territory with an unprecedented amount of liberty. He had never thought that there would be a time he could just go where he pleased so long as he was within a reasonable range of home. They had said to keep to the inner packlands, but they obviously knew that six children with mischief etched into their very bones would be unlikely to listen too much to the warnings.

Dorian felt it was only a matter of time before he decide to really go explore the "outside". For the moment, he was content to learn more about his home. It was far bigger than he had imagined when the world was only knee high so there was plenty of diversion to be found even close to the house on the hill.

There were plenty of learning opportunities to be had and some of them were harder lessons than others.

The smell that caught his attention was weird. It made his gut roil and his curiosity peaked. However, the last time something interesting happened he had ended up with the short end of the stick and a gruff doggish woman blaming him for things. Dorian was young and stupid, though, and wanted to know what the smell was. It was masculine but not quite right. He'd never really smelled that sort of thing. Probably.

He saw the man soon enough after catching the wrongness of the scent. He was older, scarred like his father and likely about the same age as Tora. Dorian paused at a distance for a moment. He should have turned around and found something else to be curious about.

Instead, he walked up to Rand with a terribly fleeting sense of confidence.

"Hey, are you alright?" he piped up, knowing that in comparison to Rand, Dorian was thoroughly a child.

He was not as alone as he thought, and at first glance, it wasn't the sort of company he would've preferred entertaining.

A child, barely beyond shifting age it seemed, ripe with the awkward proportions that any budding young adult had to transition through. His gait slowed to a halt, and he rose a pointed brow at the boy, his orange eyes catching those baby blues.

But then, he realized, perhaps a child was the easier sort of company to deal with in this moment. The youngest generation was always in need of education, no matter the subject. Clearly he was attracted by curiosity, because anyone with half a brain wouldn't have approached a man reeking of sex and whatever else he and the girl had dabbled in the night before.

His innocent question prompted a smile, yellowing teeth sharp like needles as he chuckled at the youth.

"Oh, I'm grand," he said, his feathery tail swishing behind him as he spoke. Rand rarely came across as an amicable creature, nor humble nor remotely worth concern, but he would welcome in this boy's naïve concern with open arms.

Very easily this child could simply nod and walk away, and Rand would think nothing of it again; but he had a strong suspicion that he would stick with him. The priest was not so easily forgotten, especially not when something so foreign and strange and wrong clung to his fur and beckoned questioning from ones that didn't know any better.

"Does something seem the matter? How thoughtful of you to check up on your elders."
creep bein a creep
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Something about the man felt wrong. It wasn't the smell, which Dorian had already established as being wrong, but something in the way that his eyes glinted and he spoke. It reminded him quite a bit of the egotistical nature of some of his sisters, but far more refined and carefully cultivated. His sisters were blunt with their opinions of themselves and it was hard to say anything to the contrary without earning a black eye. This man was.. scarier. He felt like he probably ought to have just nodded and left him alone, retreating to the known problems he had already in his life rather than the big mystery that felt the same.

He couldn't just walk away though once his curiosity was peaked. Plus, the man had not dismissed him or asked him to go on his merry way. God, he should have listened to his gut and gone on his merry way.

"You're not that old," he countered blithely, unable to stop himself from the retort. His mother and father were older than Dorian by who knew how many years and the strange man seemed like he was roughly the same as them for all that he was scarred up. Dorian did look at the long marks across his face and thought that his father probably had matching ones elsewhere on his body. He had dismissed it easily. His father was the toughest guy he knew.

Dorian should have moved on.

"You don't seem like.. Something just seems off, I'm sorry," he answered finally, unable to really put his finger on exactly what the problem was. He had very nearly said that he smelled wrong but that came off like an insult, warranted or not.
He sneered. "Older and wiser than you can imagine," he answered just as readily, unaware of the boy's parents, nor their stories. As far as Rand was concerned, he had lived what was akin to a thousand lifetimes in only a few years' time. He had seen his Kingdom rise and fall, he had seen the fallout push him away from his own people. He had seen their blood at his hand and he had seen his own children abandoned by the wayside.

And he regretted none of what fell by his own actions. He would continue to be bitter about his lost culture, yes, but he could much more easily outfit that anger as a weapon than own up to his own atrocious deeds.

The Coara could see the boy working through these strange, new things; it was evident in his face. He wondered how much longer it would take for him to forgo whatever manners he had been taught and just blurt it out, but he took a marginally less forward approach.

"Something seems off," he parroted, tapping a finger to his chin as if he had no earthly idea. "I cannot possibly imagine — ... Ah, but of course."

He took some sick pleasure in talking about this to a child, as if he had any right to do so.

"Truthfully, you are too young to be hearing of this from anyone but your mother and father," he took a step forward, lowering his voice, "But I shall enlighten you anyway." The priest had no qualms with this, despite the morally grey position he found himself standing in.

"There will come a time, when you are older, that you will know the touch of a woman — or a man."

His rusty eyes narrowed, and he paused, waiting for permission to either continue in excruciating detail or for the boy to figure out what that meant on his own. If he was sharp, the pieces would fall into place, but if he was dull, it might would take a bit more explaining. Rand didn't care either way.
creepometer is OFF THE CHARTS i am so sorry he is just eugh
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My god, he's so creepy and bad - I love it as much as I hate it.
He was smug, that man. He could tell that Dorian knew little and was inexperienced. But, the man had to take a moment to think about it. The boy kept watching him patiently, sure that the man was deliberately drawing it out as some sort of test. But the Page was patient, a skill learned over quite a few weeks of having it tested over and over again by brutish sisters. He didn't fidget, or look like he was bored.

The thing that the Savoy boy had noticed, smelled and sensed, had been sex.

Dorian visible blanched at the very blunt way that the man put forth an explanation he had not expected. It took him very little time to piece together the not-so-cryptic clues and he could feel the bottom of his stomach drop out.

Something in the back of his mind whirred and worried, wondering why the hell a grown man like Rand was telling him, a boy, about that sort of thing. From what Dorian understood, it was meant to be a private thing that wasn't quite so openly spoken about. It was something adults did who cared about each other, based on the way his mother and father had described it. But they had been vague about the whole thing and Rand was being more blunt.

Oh, it was a chance to learn more details, just like he had with Calan and the god awful graffiti. That nagging feeling was buried by eager curiosity, the warning drowned by the need to know more. Just knowing would put him at an advantage against his sisters. Their life threatened to be a constant contest and he had to take any damn chance that was going to come his way to get ahead, even if his conscience was genuinely concerned. It could wait till after he got more information.

"What's it like?" he blurted out, realizing a splitsecond later that it was probably stupidly rude. "I mean, like.. what, what happens when you and a..." he faltered, unable to say the word woman or man, mostly out of embarrassment and partially out of being unable to decide which one was the correct gender to fill the blank with. "What's it like?" he repeated, more softly and conspiratorially.
He was predictable. Little boys and girls couldn't outrun their naive curiosities forever; they hadn't developed the sense of appropriate talk with others, let alone strangers, to discern what was and what wasn't polite, never mind correct, to ask.

He shouldn't have been put in this situation at all, and with any other upstanding citizen he wouldn't have been. But Rand Coara was nothing if not a fervent corrupter of the youth, no matter how he sugar-coated or repackaged it.

Drawing closer, the dog leaned down just a tad to get eye-level with him, a dubious look on his maw. The boy was shorter than him on account of his age, and the priest wondered what sort of man he might become some day. Perhaps the sort he would revisit again, when he was not all pudgy and long-limbed. But his tenacity only brought a bigger, slimer grin to Rand's mouth.

Of course he wanted to know. There would be something horrifically wrong if he didn't. This was the age of development, after all, and he deserved to know of these carnal things eventually.

Chuckling softly, his tail behind him never ceased to wag, and he placed one hand at his hip while the other reached out to lightly touch the boy's shoulder in a benign, almost paternal way. "It's something very special," he said. "Something warm and close and even claustrophobic at points, but in a good way. I can scarcely put it into words, even; you'll just have to find out one day for yourself."

He chuffed, straightening his back again. "That is, once you're old enough."

It was cruel to goad him into asking only to leave it a mystery, but it was just enough to keep him asking and prodding and doing his own research when the time came. One innocent question would lead to a thousand more, and Rand was naturally open to helping him learn — once he was a bit older. Still a tad too young for even his tastes.
  i'm slapping an M tag on this just because it is Hella Questionable™ :']
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The man put his hand on his shoulder and leaned in like they were two conspiring bandits. The Savoy boy leaned in slightly, too, just for good measure so that the lower volume didn't hinder his ability to hear every damn juicy detail he would be provided. And then the juicy details were decidedly bland, lacking flavor, and somewhat flat.

Dorian felt the taste of curiosity on his tongue but his belly found no satisfaction of flavor with no substance to go with it. He wanted to know, and the man was absolutely not being as free with his information as expected. Why was it so vague and confusing?

He thought about it for a moment, piecing together the puzzle of carnal truth that escaped his full comprehension. He thought about the drawing and the way the bodies had been crudely slapped together, pushing on each other in a grotesque wrestling match. Dorian couldn't fathom what about the act was so taboo to discuss since it seemed like nearly everyone was doing it. Rand was clearly coming from such a - what would one even call the event? Activity? Pastime? Hobby? That didn't seem right, no matter how much his young brain fumbled with the concept.

"That doesn't tell me anything," he countered, knowing and feeling the intent behind the too vague explanation. Rand was toying with him and he quite hated the feeling. He had asked such a simple question and he figured it meant he could actually get answers, real answers. "I mean, what makes it so claustrophobic? How do you even know you want to do.. that with someone?" he blustered, waving a hand around to somehow make his point more clear.
He hadn't initially intended to toy with the young wolf — well, that was a lie. Rand was always this frustrating, this ambiguous and scheming, and nothing had changed once he entered into this new Realm. Having the blessing of the Goddess on his side only empowered him in these vexing antics, and no one was safe, certainly not a child.

The boy with no name keep digging, but he wasn't necessarily getting any closer to a straight answer. The priest was perhaps the last person to approach with such a goal in mind. "My, my, you sure are curious for your age," he observed, clicking his tongue, and Rand supposed he ought to give him a few more morsels to gnaw on.

"Oh, you will know," he answered casually, leaning back to place his hands at his hips. "Have you ever seen someone and feel an urge to talk to them, touch them, be with them?" If he hadn't, he would soon enough.

"It is like a kindling fire, burning deep within your gr — ... within you," he corrected himself. "You will find that once you initiate this process with someone, you will probably be there for a long while, tied up with the person of your affections — it is simply the nature of things."

It really was that simple, Rand felt. He had engaged in such an ancient ritual with countless men and women in the past, and he hadn't needed any special instructions or prodding from an elder to know how the dance went.

If anyone were to stumble across this conversation between a wolf barely past shifting age and an aging man permeated with sex, what would they have thought? It was a sobering, yet perversely exhilarating possibility. Rand was never above stirring up drama, even if it involved himself. Just enough to make people talk about him, but still too little to incite violence or rage.

"You ask such personal questions and you haven't even told me who you are," he said sardonically. "Who is it that asks Rand Coara these things, hmm? Haven't you a name?"
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Dorian listened and listened well. The things Rand said to him made his skin crawl, his ears warm, and his spine tingle in a very disturbing sort of way. He felt uncomfortable with the discussion, as though he should not have been having it with someone who was essentially a stranger. Honestly, he really should have walked away the moment his gut started to roil suspiciously. He had been stubborn and would have to deal with the repercussions of that curiosity.

He gave a very slight shake of the head but did not answer the man's question. He had wanted to spend time with his family, but he could tell that was not remotely the same thing. Not worth mentioning, either.

Simply the nature of things, he said. It made sense and Dorian understood that to be true. It didn't mean that he hadn't wanted to know more just to be prepared. There were cryptic clues that would become apparently after he was older; this he comprehended very well, since most things for him at that point in life often seemed to happen after he had been told and then forced to wait. He would wait to fully understand the man's meanings, especially after the way his body seemed to react so negatively to the entire exchange.

At least he didn't tremble like a little leaf in the storm.

"Dorian. Savoy," he answered, somewhat warily. For whatever reason, Dorian didn't really want to tell Rand who he was, but he couldn't lie when they were packmates. "Thank you for answering my questions. Uhm, maybe you need to clean up?" he added, trying his best to be respectful while also taking a step back and away from the scarred man.
The shift was subtle, from wide-eyed curiosity to churning, uncertain embarrassment. There was never anything to be embarrassed of when it came to sex, the priest believed very fervently — well, unless it came to the girl, Wither Rose. Embarassment didn't seem like the right word, not really, but he was not jumping at the opportunity to speak of his adventures with her, either. She had something of a reputation that collided with his own pious ideals.

He fell oddly silent, a contrast from his earlier questions running into each other, and Rand felt as though he had made his point abundantly clear, so much that the boy was stunned into silence, it seemed. It was not the expected outcome, but he would consider it a victory nevertheless.

With his name coaxed out of him, Rand straightened his back, giving him another glance over. "Dorian Savoy, hmm," he parroted, rather liking how that sounded on his tongue. "I shall remember that well."

He was never the best with names, instead opting for faces and experiences. But this youth, he would keep an eye on. Since he had the good fortune of wandering into the Lorn's path, he was not so eager to let him up, now. Maybe he would put Rand's impromptu lesson to good use in the future, and he was interested to see how that would transpire.

His scarred maw split into another wide grin, and he laughed. "Perhaps I should," he agreed, as it had been his intention all along, before he got distracted. "I wouldn't want anyone else finding me in such a state, wouldn't you agree?"

Dorian was inching away, ready to bolt, and the Coara waved his hand dismissively, as if he had to ask permission. Respect for the elders had not completely died here, it seemed, and he turned on his heel soon after, his tail wagging behind him as he returned to his walk towards the sea.

Hopefully there would be no further interruptions. The Savoy youth had given him more than enough to think about, as it was.
aaaaand fin i think >)
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