All the boys say, welcome to the Jungle

421
she's a glamazon

Nico was nowhere to be found. It was the smallest of mercies for her. His presence could be overbearing sometimes, something that had not changed an ounce since they left Italy. He merely got worse the moment they had arrived across the sea and seemed to be a perpetual pain in the ass since then. At least after spending months spreading her legs in Portland, he no longer had a wise ass crack to make at her about her profession, especially when it kept his life far cozier than it had been the first time they passed through the port town.

It was quiet as she walked through the somewhat silent empty streets of a once likely bustling town. The smell of dozens of canines was present nearly everywhere nearby, clearly marking it as a frequented haunt. It was different than before, definitely. Before there was only the warning of the pack to the southeast, advising that avoidance was the ideal plan when regarding them. Now, there was a hint of that same danger but also the promise of a place of freedom and alcohol. Clearly, it was obvious which vice was popular with the locals.

Adrianna had already been there the night previous but she was more than happy to lurk and linger. Taverns were the best places for meretrix to work. But it was hard to muster up the level of focus needed in the cold north. It was not the same as a port town in Europe (though that was before Adrianna lost the last of her scruples) or the eastern seaboard at the southern portion of the continent.

But she did not know what to do with her time. It was midday, maybe a bit past noon. It was so hard to tell so far north; she still struggled to really grasp the differences between Rome and anything further north. Adrianna had her hands on the hem of her long, plain skirt. It was a newer acquisition, in the city, but it was far plainer than she liked. It was, however, not a working night so how could she justify anything prettier? The brown material was at least somewhat soft and kept her legs warm.

She sighed, heavily, as she walked on, swishing the skirt this way and that way. Every few steps the sighs became more and more exaggerated with increasing volume. It was the sound of a girl once spoiled who was definitely not sure how to get the attention of anyone without being ridiculous.

Percival had never traveled so far away from his family before, and he had never seen what the land looked like east of what used to be Krokar, either. All at once, it was exhilarating and awe-inspiring and compelling. And maybe just the tiniest bit scary and concerning, too, because it was different and it was new and it was unknown. At least, it was for him. But then, his family would never have let him go alone. Granted, he hadn't actually asked if he could, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't be allowed. 'You're too young!' he imagined them saying. 'It's too dangerous!'

So, rather than go through the bother (after all, Bramble and his ma and his cousins had enough to worry about as it was), Percy had taken it upon himself to ask for himself if someone would join him. Of course he had thought to ask Bramble first, because ever since their fireside talk shortly after Krokar's fiery end, Percy had developed a new respect and admiration toward his older brother. But, at the same time, there was something in the young Parhelion that demanded he be as independent as possible.

In the end, he decided to ask Keabetswe if she would join him. They, too, had grown closer since the fall of Krokar, but in a way that reminded Percy more of Taseko than of his family. Betsy seemed interested less in her personal relationship with the boy and more in her abilities to teach him how to survive and be a well-rounded, balance, and able individual. With his mother taking on the matriarchal role of overseeing the wellness of The Shoal, and his father lost to the void and darkness of the unknown, Percival hungered for the structure and the guidance that Betsy provided.

After eyeing him obscurely for a while, Betsy had made him show her the defensive moves that she had shown him days before. She had made him repeat them for what felt like an eternity until she was satisfied and then, with only a definitive nod, she agreed to join him on his journey to the East.

The trek from St. John's Chokehold was long, but mercifully uneventful. Percival had tried to keep Pim back at camp, but the faithful, old ox was so reluctant to be left behind that the young Parhelion eventually relented... then spent a significant stretch of time convincing Keabetswe to let him come along. In the end, she agreed only because the massive ox was a useful beast of burden and could carry what few goods they could spare for trade.

And it was trade, Betsy had decided afterwards, that would make this whole, silly journey worth anyone's while.

There was a small, but decently bustling establishment in Amherst that the African dog had gone to once or twice with Elle, and, since Percy had no particular destination in mind, Betsy had suggested that they make their way there. Bundled up in her cloak and layers of clothing, Keabestwe walked ahead of Pim, leading the piebald ox along while Percival padded through the snow alongside him.

Once in Amherst, Betsy instructed Percy to wait outside while she conducted business within, reminding him firmly about using his spear to defend himself should the need arise. It was then, while he waited for his companion to rejoin him outside the rowdy establishment of the tavern, that a sight the likes of which he had never witness before flapped and fluttered before his young eyes.

Plain and brown, her skirt was familiar and safe and Percy was immediately drawn to it. But when he saw her, a strange and funny sensation tickled his very core and the need to wag his tail was such that he couldn't stop himself once he had started. He took a step forward, and then another, hesitating only because that odd feeling in his tummy reminded him a little bit of being nervous.

Look at her again, though, it didn't seem to him as though there was anything to be nervous about. So, swallowing his uncertainties, Percy crossed the rest of the distance between them, his nutmeg eyes watching the way her skirts swished and flowed as she walked. "Um... hi,"

Behind him, the brindle-patched ox approached and blew a cloud of breath out of his large, soft nose.

[WC — 741]

332

Adrianna had ignored footsteps for the most part. She had been semi-defenseless but she had learned enough how to kick and claw to get out of most situations. Others from the Troop were likely somewhere within howling distance and Nico would likely make his appearance one of those moments himself. That and the confidence of a pretty girl was hard to dampen.

It was not a moment she expected to find herself attended to by anyone, though, but when a hesitant masculine voice rang out, the only thing the courtesan could possibly think of was "client". She turned about, leveling eyes that shimmered with false tears at the young man with a silly grin plastered on her face. She could tell the boy was hesitant from the way he spoke and the nerves that rang. In the moment after turning, she saw his tail wag and his posture, everything, and felt the wonderful drive of knowledge kicking in.

He was attended by an ox, something she hadn't seen in ages. She last saw a handful in Rome. Well, the various communities that happened to have oxen for pulling and carting. Wealthy. She practically saw the money pouring off the animal.

Oh, hi! You startled me, she said with the hint of her heavier Italian accent always coating her words, giggling somewhat and batting her eyelashes at him with the flirt's practiced precision. An innocent boy took her back to the days of fooling around behind her parents' backs and locking herself in closets with the servant boys. Unfortunately, one of those servant boys ended up convincing her to flee Italy with him and she ended up a prostitute, but what were details?

She bounced up to him, flouncing almost, and then paused. She interlocked her fingers behind her back and leaned in, humming thoughtfully. Ohh, what cute ears you have, she marveled, giggling, wondering if the simpering bubble-headed girl was the boy's idea of a good time.

She turned and, as she did, her brown skirts filled Percival's ears with that soft, flapping sound of fabric being pulled through the air. And then there she was, directly in front of him with her violet eyes glistening and her silly smile bright, and all the boy could do was wag his tail in a way that betrayed his innocence and his youth. He hardly even dared to blink as he looked into her perfect face, thinking that if the River Goddess could take a mortal form, this must be what she would look like.

"Oh, um," he stammered. "I'm sorry, that... I didn't..." But he trailed off when she shifted her stance, hands coupled behind her and torso bent toward him at the waist. His nutmeg eyes caught her bosom then and Percival found that he felt awful weird and definitely a little nervous. "Yeah." What he was agreeing to or affirming, he had absolutely no idea whatsoever, but suddenly the word was out and Percy couldn't have stopped it if he tried.

And then she was giggling and Percival, very belatedly, replayed in his head the words that she had said to him after she had leaned in toward him and his attention had been diverted from her face. Those cute ears he had burned a bright, hot red beneath the folds and almost certainly would have shown through the pale white, revealing his sudden and inexplicable embarrassment, if their insides had been visible. His cheeks, too, burned but at least that was less noticeable.

But his tail wagged a little harder all the same and he smiled his own goofy smile. "I mean," he began, attempting to correct his earlier knee-jerk reaction to utter agreeable murmurs. "Ya think so? Sometimes I wish they stood up, like yours do." Finally lifting his eyes again, Percival glanced up to her perked, rounded wolf ears. "You're, uh... real pretty, miss," he managed, his nerves tingling his entire body and making him feel almost as though in a dream.

The ox, meanwhile, stood patiently near his master's side and ground his flat teeth over his cud while he waited for whatever it was the Luperci might require of him, or want to do next. He was a good beast, mild-mannered and hard-working. If it weren't for his aversion to being alone – perhaps a symptom of the various traumas he had faced in his past – Pim would be the perfect companion.

But Percival didn't mind the ox's presence, not that he was aware of any other figure nearby at this moment in time but for that of the glamorous woman in front of him. "How come you're out here all alone?"

OOC: lol I'll have Betsy burst out of the Tavern in my next post to nip this in the bud. :')

[WC — 463]

418

Oh, she was doubly blessed. For all that his breed gave him a shaggier, older appearance, this was just a boy. Truly a lucky find for a girl who knew what to do with every little ounce of femininity the great goddesses could bestow upon an a woman. She could practically count how many ways she could try to milk him for every valuable he had on hand, though she knew it was unwise to count her chickens before they hatched. He could have been a simple farmer with an oxen to plow and she could have happily taken him to bed for a heavy basket of goods in exchange. She was truly not fussed, not in the savage lands.

Adrianna giggled at his praise, tilting her head somewhat so she could thumb at one of her own ears and bat her lids prettily at the boy. So, he was clearly a soft boy, not the sort that wanted to be dominated by a very strong personality. There were those sorts of men, after all, who wanted their women to derange and deride them, or have an air of might about them. Those were definitely the men that Adrianna struggled with, but she could sling derision at a man just as well as the next. More than that, though, and it was more trouble than it was worth.

Oh, please, stop that, she said with a giggle, lightly tapping the man with her fingertips. She had to get it right or it would be another night around the campfire eating whatever game one of the hunters brought in rather than basking in post coital afterglow and counting whatever trinkets she accumulated.

He asked her what she was doing all alone. Never alone, not for long, so she had to work faster. Adrianna bat her eyes once more, just in case. Well, just looking to see if I could find anything useful, she said with some level of honesty. She was, after all, looking for a useful man.

She leaned forward, putting a hand on his chest and running circles around it, somewhat. She looked up at him from beneath her brows, slowly getting ever closer and almost pressing up against him. You didn't introduce yourself, silly. I'm Julia, she introduced, letting her name ring out a little longer than it needed to. What's your name, handsome? she added, knowing she was laying it on a bit thickly. But she was not going home empty-handed.

The trilling warble of her giggles sent a pleasant tingle straight through him, right down to his core, and he smiled deeply. He watched the way she tilted her head, rubbing one of her own upright ears between her thumb and forefinger. He thought that they would be soft, if he reached up and touched them, like the way he remembered his sisters' ears were when he would nuzzle into them as an unshifted child. But more than his desire to touch her ears was the desire for her to touch his own. It would feel nice, he decided with confidence, if she thumbed his own floppy ears like that.

Maybe a little like being appreciated. Maybe a little like being loved.

The fluttering of her eyelids drew his attention away from where her fingers were rubbing her ear, and he was in awe of just how beautiful her eyes were. They were a hue that Pecival had never before seen in the eyes of another canine and, as she batted them the boy felt a longing in his heart. They reminded him of Spring's bright vitality. They reminded him of Summer's health and beauty. They reminded him of warmer days and happier times. This woman, with her sweet laughter and her gentle voice and her summer eyes, had him wrapped around her little finger. If she had asked him to, he might have done anything for her.

So when she asked him to stop, he pressed his floppy ears against his skull and glanced away apologetically. "Oh, sorry," he murmured. But when she felt those lithe fingertips – the very same ones he had watched fondle her ear – tap him lightly, Percival glanced at her again and felt suddenly very warm all over. "Oh," he murmured again, but this time with surprise. His heartbeat was roaring in his ears now and Percival managed a shy smile when she batted her lovely eyes at him again. "Useful? Maybe I can help you?" he said hopefully, thinking that there might be something he could give her that would be useful.

Before he could listed the useful items he had on his person, the woman had leaned forward and then her warm hand was on his chest and her dainty finger was drawing circles through his fur. "Woah," he breathed, for a moment not sure if he should be afraid or encouraged. But she was doing nothing to hurt him. No, on the contrary, everything that she was doing was eliciting nothing but sensations of pleasure. So focused on the way his skin tingled from her light, repetitive touch, Percival nearly missed the words that spilled from her lips. Lips that were moving closer and closer toward him.

"Oh, um... I'm, uh..." He swallowed. "I'm... My name is, uh... it's Percival."

She – Julia – thought he was handsome and Percy was putty in her hands. He smiled nervously at her, wondering after how awfully strange he felt and hoping it would never end. "I... I have, uh... useful things," he said, not taking his eyes from her face. "For you, maybe. Julia."

There was a whoosh of wind from somewhere toward the tavern, as though a door was being forcibly swung open, followed by the crack of wood against wood. Percival blinked but did not pay the sound any more attention than that. At least, not until a familiar voice screeched into the thin winter air and burst through the warmth and the tenderness that had enveloped him since Julia's gentle touch.

"What in the name of—" Keabetswe began, her voice higher and more stronger of accent than what Percival had grown used to. With the hard, violent crunching of snow to warn them of her quick and steady approach, the African dog barked, "It would be wise of you to take your hands from him, woman!"

[WC — 649]