ooc: Form, Secui
There was disgust in the back of his mind for everything that was about to take place. Love itself was an object of disdain, not something that he wanted to experience. But there was little choice in it for him, as he gazed upon the golden female, brought her scent into his nostrils. All he could think of were the line of those who came before, the men who had used her. Used this, receptical. His eyes looked up at hers, clouded in the fog of his own thought, for her this might indicate a moment of hesitation for what was to happen. And perhaps it was, he began to wonder about her, and about just what she actually knew about love. He broke his stare, circling around her in a similar way, keeping close his muzzle brushing against her fur and flesh, a prodding that held the care of a mother holding her child, but kept the affection of a surgeon preparing to slice open his patient.
He knew what he held for her was love, it was an invisible obsession that had spanned his near five years of life. A loyalty alien to the grey wolf, one that he knew for none other save himself. That was his love, honor to this one even if she had abandoned him, left him. Forsaken him. He remembered her crying in the lake, he had held her that day and felt the maggots crawling up his chest, love. She had spoken of it, but he began to wonder if he was the only one on that day who had actually felt it. X'ies was an expert in words, he knew more than many their power, their meaning. Most of all though he knew that certain words, without action to back them were hollow. He reached her back and stopped, looking at where he was supposed to go. Silent. Wondering. X'yrin used the word love, yet how many times had she used it? Had she used it so much that it had lost its meaning? Did she even know what love actually was?
As he raised himself up, bringing himself onto his hind legs briefly, and mounting her. He felt a great sadness spread through him. This moment, it was one that was supposed to be special, at least if the term love was to be used. In the Nomadic culture it was little more than an act of reproduction, and he tried to keep that thought in his mind even as the feelings burned through him like the sky of the autumn evening. How many times had she said it? To how many? Just what actions had she committed in truth to fill her hollow words? She had told him her feelings, then forsaught him and mated with Jaden, only to give him up when she discovered the dishonor attached to him. She had purged herself, but had said that she was empty, the act whilst cleansing in body, meant little in soul. She had abandoned him. And in some ways....even now as he thrust into her, completing the act of entry. The lack of resistance her body gave only served as a stark and final reminder.
Her words were as hollow as he wished his heart could be. He remained abandoned.