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WC:300+
Whinifred took in a deep breath as she sat in the cool spring grass. She pushed her hand through her loose blonde hair, her bangs falling back onto her face after her hand had past. Soft blue and half green eyes scanned over the barren land of Phoenix valley. It was so desolate here in these lands, like an old tapesty the threads were starting to unweave and unless the artist came back and started to put them back together; this peice of art would fall apart. The french women shook her head and put her hands on the ground to push herself up to a standing posistion, her blonde mane brushing her back and rear.
Standing there in with her arms crossed over her chest Fred wondered about the leader of this pack. The man named Jefferson was confusing to her. Then again, she saw things in a narrow minded way and Whinnie knew it. She had to too be a negatiagor. Had to know the right words to say to someone, how to make people change their minds. A smirk took the corner of her mouth. Whinifred knew she would have to play her cards right to make this work.
Moving away from the trees she walked towards the mill. It was rickity and old, but something about the building comforted her. Once she had made it to stand by the old sturcture she put her hand out on the old timber wood and just started at it. The feeling of mold and rotting wood wasn't unpleasent just another reality of what time did to things. When she had left her birth pack she had had a taste of reality, though her life hadn't been completly unpleasent she never would take back the horrible thing she had done, because it gave her great saticfaction for the pain she had caused them. A secret smile pulled up on the young strawberry blonde womens maw, as she stood at the mill with her hand on it.
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The meeting with DaVinci had ended well, at least Lysander thought so. What made it even better was that the second in command of their pack had been visibly annoyed at Lysander’s foolish and fumbling words. All had gone grandly and now Lysander was officially part of Phoenix Valley, as DaVinci had called it shortly before they had left. After the meeting Lysander had back tracked a bit, picking up his cloth sack and bringing it into the pack lands, his new home, and promptly burying it and it’s contents (minus a few trinkets he pulled out) in the frozen ground. None of it’s contents were particularly important, but Lysander had wanted to bring them with him all the same and he didn’t quite feel like carrying them. He doubted anyone who disturb the bundle of garbage until he found a more fitting home for it– and himself.
Now a few days later, after some much needed rest and a few good meals to rejuvenate himself form his journey, the steel and snow colored male was out again, his eyes glinting at just about everything they laid sight on. On two legs he strode easily past the ranch, ignoring the animals just as DaVinci had bade him. Of course, at another time they would fall victim to his shanagins, but in his current state Lysander was more interested in finding something smarter than a cow to converse with. In his palm he fingered one of the many trinkets he had brought with him, the glass beads strung together into a bracelet, every color imaginable represented and they were all vibrant, casting small dots of color on the snow when he held it up to the light.
As he neared the mill he caught her scent, and his fist closed tightly around the meaningless piece of jewelry. Breathing in deeply he moved forward, gray eyes dancing as they sighted the female. A sly smile worked it’s way across his lips but vanished before the girl ever turned to see him. Almost silently Ly came up behind her, clearing his throat in a warning as his empty hand closed around the wrist of the hand outstretched and touching the worn wood of the mill. At first it was hard, as if any moment he would pull her to him and harm her in whatever way took his fancy, but the touch quickly softened and he offered the strange female a warm smile. Pulling out the bracelet he held it to her wrist, still encircled in his grip. “This would look stunnin’ with your fur color. Really.”
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She kept staring at that wood. Under her hand it felt brittle, but wise from age. Question was, how could a nonliving thing be wise? She wasn't sure, but Fred knew it was possible. The she wolf had been to deep in thought and her own moment that when she felt the hand put on her wrist a loud growl emitted from her usually soft lungs, and her blue and half green eyes went to the stranger. Her teeth were bared and an angry expression staied on her face even after he spoke.
Yanking her wrist back she looked up at him from her short stature."Ne me touche pas! She growled, not liking others to touch her. Whinifred had never liked it. Expecially when this stranger had made her stomach drop and the skin around her wrist come alive. Fred had to tilte her head back to look at the male, it didn't make her feel inferior at all, just like the short french women she was.
"You shouldn't do such things to a female Monsiur. You will find that you will get bitten if you do." She said lowly anger still hinted in her words. Looking at the braclet she didn't move to grab or look closer at it, but kept a defensive stance to the man. He was lucky she didn't have daggers on her when he grabbed her, the last man that had scared her like didn't have his left eye any more. "Why do you scare me so for something so simple?" Whini questioned her gaze questioning, and her stout body in a defensive posistion.
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D: I'm sorry I didn't mean to post in Svara's account
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The quick yanking back of her wrist and the sharp growl sent a thrill through Lysander, yet it was not the amusement that he felt but rather concern and hurt that registered on his face. The french words registered, he could only understand a few simple phrases but the english that followed was enough for him to fill in the gaps. “Je suis désolé, miss” His voice humble and apologetic, but the giddiness of the game was already stirring within him.
“I didn’t mean to startle ya, I only thought that...” He paused, concern still flooding his face and he smiled at the female over, an attempt to win her over. She was not as he imagined, Lysander would have to rethink his playing style, but a few wrong cards dealt never ruined a game for him, he could still play his cards like a pro. “I was only drawn by how well your fur matches this.” He held up the bracelet again, the colors glinting in the sun.
Sighing, as if put out by her reaction, his tailed wavered uneasily behind him. Lysander took a step back as if to give her space, his hands closing over the glass beads. He grinned as the noise they made in his palm, clicking together. “Ya don’t agree then?”
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Whini let her eye brow raise to the male. Something about his additude, she knew what he was. This was a fake one. The type that played you false to get what they wanted, or at least the ladies, a charmer. Whinifred suddenly wanted to play his game. She didn't want to listen to all this small talk. If he wanted something she would ask him. Watching his hand drop with the beads Freds own hand flashed out quickly grabbing the hand that he held the beads in. Looking at those beads and smirked deviously. "Drop the act Monsuir, if you want something of me then tell me so I may help you." Her blue eyes looked him over slowly, his coat was strong beautiful shades, and his eyes a strong grey.
Taking his hand she opened his fingers gently to see the beads. Taking the beads out Fred looked at them. They were quit beautiful though she was sure this was just his plore to get what he wanted. Only thing was that the french women didn't like to play it this way. Letting her eyes drift back to him she gave him a sassy look. "Je pense qu'ils sont captivants" She said gently while putting her hand out to hand them back. " même si je pense avoir trouvé quelque chose d'encore plus captivante" She murmured as she held that peice of jewelry out to the man.
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Her words tickled him and the steel male couldn’t help but chuckle. It was rare that one saw through his many masks, and yet she hadn’t gotten the whole picture. He was acting, but he was also acting as if he were acting. All the same, whether she truly understood the game or not, it was invigorating to meet someone who wanted to play along. The female might be able to read through some of his words, but whether the underlying meanings were false as well, even he wouldn’t be sure. Lysander could never quite believe himself, knowing that any moment, on a whim he might change his whole belief system. It was just that easy.
“Alright then miss...no more games. I want nothin’ from ya.” Lysander spoke with complete honestly, he had wanted nothing from her. Everything he did was merely on a whim and yet often times it lead to something more. He let her take the beads from him, his gray eyes following her hands as they removed the jewelry from his own. The words then floated in the air, and though he did not know the whole meaning, the look she gave him spoke volumes. For the first time since their meeting he felt a rush of some other sort of excitement run through his body, and it seemed to pool in his nether regions. Now if he were to say he wanted nothing from the lady it would be a lie.
Angrily he snatched the beads back, his fist closing tightly around them. “Excuse ya, but these are for my mate!” His words were sharp and hard, his eyes burned at the female, as if he were truly offended she would touch the possession of his female. “I made it for her.” It was true, he had strung the beads together, but he had no one in mind when he had done so.
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OMG if I DO THIS ONE MORE TIME I SWEAR! D:
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Fred watched him closely. The way he went about doing things. For some reason, she was having fun. The males way of acting was so amusing, and so different. It was a challenge to try to understand him, and that was what made him all the more intertaining. The jewels were snatched out of her hands making her grin gently at him, that sassy look on her young face. His harsh words made her hum in thought. Standing on her tip toes she let her pink nose rest into his fur and take a deep long breath. His fur smelt like wood and male scents, things that couldn't be explained or identified.
Leaning back onto her heels and shaking her head while tsking she looked up at him with her blue and half green eyes. "You don't smell like another female, and I'd have to say you were quit egar to show me that peice when you first arrived." She pointed out with a suducitve little grin and twinkle in her eyes. "la femme qui est de vous la volonté de son avoir de la chance Whinifred murmured making sure her eyes skimmed over his body while she said it. The female was teasing him now, she wanted to play; have fun. This male would be hers to play with, if she wasn't to rusty at the game.
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The female leaned in closely to smell him and he knew what she found. No trace of any female, the last one he had laid with was long gone weeks by and he hadn’t come across any since. Certainly not one to call his mate, but that did not mean he had not had one. Or still did, technically. Pulling away, his lips turned up into a snarl, his voice angrily echoing words she would know well enough. “Ne me touche pas!” His were threatening, his fist clenched the glass beads tighter, any harder and they were sure to break against one another.
“Ya stupid woman, she’s coming later. With our pups. Had to stay behind and deal with some family issues first.” Lysander rolled his eyes, sneering at the female, turning his shoulder to her. He furled and unfurled his clenched hand, looking at the sparkling glass beads as the appeared and disappeared. With a snort he turned back to the french female, taking in her strawberry blonde pelt, her blue and a little green eyes. Less hotly and more softly he asked her, liking the way she looked over him, the way the words rolled off her tongue, even if he couldn’t quite understand them. “Why don’t ya have a mate for yourself?” There was no reason such a female should be unclaimed by a male, in Lysander’s world no female should be so free except the whores who were merely there to service him.
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She didn't change her beautiful smile from her face. Not even when the man questioned her lack of a mate. Was she supposed to be angry about something that was true? Whinnie shook her head her extremly long blonde hair brushing her rump and lower back with the movement of her head. It had been a long time since she had had this much fun. Looking up at the male she snorted gently. His words made him an easy target, but she really didn't feel like pulling him down a notch at the moment. If he thought he was going to bait her he was sorly mistaken.
"I don't have a mate because he is dead, and I'm quit happy of it to be honost." Whinifred was happy that her whole last pack was dead. They had deserved it for the betrayal they had served her and her sister. It was bullshit when they said packs were loyal to each other, they were only loyal to themselves. "He didn't even get a chance to really become may mate, the fool should have known better." Whinnie said in a tone that was low and holding many mixed emotions.
Whinifred pursed her lips while looking back up at the grey and white male. pourquoi les beaux-vous jouer à ce jeu? Whinifred murmured not wanting the male to know what she was really saying. "you don't look like the type to have a mate to hold you down monsieur." Whinnie kept that knowing smirk on the corner of her mouth and she walked slowly to the side moving past him, making sure to brush against him as she passed. " To be quit frank Monsieur you don't look like the type to pass up an invitation to anything." Whinifred was laughing on the inside. This game this teasing was more fun then she had ever expected to find in a long time.
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“Lucky bastard.” Ly looked over the female, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “With how cold ya are, I’m sure he’s better off where he is than in yer arms.” Lysander bite his tongue at the “yer”, hearing his father’s accent work it’s way back into his speech, it happened when he was having too much fun acting. Sometimes he lost himself in it, forgot himself. Was too caught up in the emotions, and when he was upset, the accent worked it’s way into his speech. Imagining his mate wishing death upon his was upsetting and it was a little disgruntling that the female found pleasure in the death of another, but Lysander couldn’t say he hadn’t ever felt the same way. Sometime another’s death was just convenient.
The female was reading some of his messages the way he intended them to be read and was seeing through others, it was impossible for them to get to know each other this way and that was just fine with Lysander. She didn’t really have to know him, and he didn’t really have to know her. They could still enjoy each other in many ways. “Whatever type I look like, miss, I assure ya, I do have a mate, and morals too.” And that was the truth, or at least the first half was. He had a mate. Or he did. He doubted that the woman would come running after him, he had given her many reasons to leave him but she had never gotten around to it, giving him the chance to bail out first. Whether their were children involved was debatable.
Her words were intoxicating, but part of him knew that she was only toying with him, as he was toying with her. The game was pleasurable, but if it would take a turn for the better Ly couldn’t predict. Nor did he care, really. For all the excitement building within him, he knew he could take care of that by himself. Dexterous hands were good for something. “Jus’ what are ya inviting me to, miss?”
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Whinnie looked back at the male over her shoulder, she was only a foot behind him. His words made that delicate smile remain. Putting her hand up she moved her hair out of her face. Her young beautiful eyes locked onto the male. He was unbelievably handsome so much so she was finding it harder to play his game, but Fred stuck in there, her smile never faultering. His words had been harsh, but Whinnie knew she deserved them on some level. What women was so cold that they betrayed their whole pack for the life of her and her sister? It had been the reason she didn't tell Monsieur jefferson of her past. He wouldn't have liked to hear the grey reality.
"Yeah your probably right Monsieur. He is probably in a much warmer place then mon arms." Whinnie said grinning. The strawberry blonde female couldn't help but want to laugh. It was ludacric how she indulged this stranger. His name wasn't even in her knowledge yet. "I'm not inviting you to anything. Yet, Monsieur." She said gently walking up behind him and touching his upper arm. It amazed her how small she was compared to the male. With her hand on his soft fur she looked up and him, her blue gaze staring into his grey one. "I'm only playing your game monsieur. Nothing more nothing less."
Looking down at his hands the one that he held the beads in was clenched into a fist. Grabbing the hand again Whinifred moved her hands over his hard clenched one, her eyes looking down and not at the strangers face. "My name is Whinifred." She lifted his hard clenched hand to her maw and gave in a tender kiss, like most french a welcoming. Et je pense que cela pourrait être le début d'une amitié monsieur Now she looked into his grey eyes.
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“I play no game!” His words came out loud, bold, yelling in the female’s face and he pushed her away from him with his brute force, sending her flying to the ground, finding that it was both thrilling to treat her so, and concerning that he found such pleasure in his brutal treatment. Hastily he flung the beaded bracelet at her, sneering and turning to go. Lysander missed the warmth and scent of the female immediately, having her so near was pleasurable there was no denying it, but he wasn’t ready to break character, not for some silly fling that he could get anytime, anywhere. The woman was attractive, intoxicating, desirable, there was no denying it and he wanted her. But he could easily rid himself of the lusty feelings.
And he left to do so, without another word or glance at the female laying on the ground. His strides were fast and they quickly carried him away. The female and the bracelet were no longer important, but getting rid of the uncomfortable hardness that was still growing between his legs was. Once he turned back, to make sure the foolish bitch wasn’t up and following him and she wasn’t. It was only his own tracks that he saw, and he had made quite a bit of distance from the woman. Sighing he ducked behind a tree and leaning against it, his hand finding the hard organ quickly and he sighed happily. It would be better shortly.
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Fred had not expected him to push her. With nothing to grab onto she fell back into the light snow. Her rump pulsed with pain. With her short stature it hadn't been much of a fall, but it had been a stab at her pride for sure. The beads were thrown at her as the male turned and trotted away from her, ducking behind some trees a few yards away. Her long blonde hair had come loose from being pushed, the leather tie had fallen somewhere in the snow, lost to her most likely. Grumbling in frustration she picked up the glass bead peice of jewelry and looked at it again. The peice was quit breath taking, much like it's owner.
Getting up to her feet gracfully, Fred took the time to wipe the snow from her strawberry blonde coat. His words had of course been a denile of the game they played, but Whinifred was no idiot. With the braclet braced in her hand she started after the male. Frustration was in her, and she wanted to know it. If he was going to push her around she would make sure to hurt him in return, maybe she would hold her revenge for a later date. Following his paw steps she made her way to where he had gone. Her own feet made crunching noises in the white snow as she got closer.
When she turned the corner and around one of the many tall trees she found her stranger. His hand down betwix his legs, and a pleasurable look on his face. Whinifred stood stalk still shocked so much she couldn't move. Her blue and half green eyes wide and her breathing had stopped. Heat rose up into her face and ears as embarrasment engulfed her. Finally she snapped out of her shock and turned around quickly and clumsly. "Desole, Desole, Desole, monsieur." The young women still couldn't move, her back to the man who was releiving himself. This was part of the game Whinnie didn't know how to play.
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Suddenly she was there, right as it was about to come to an end, and so many mixed emotions rushed Lysander he couldn’t decide quite what he felt. Shocked and surprised, those two were a given. Embarrassed? He could decide. Excited? There was a hint of that. As her words rushed out of her mouth he dropped what he was holding, mentally swearing at the female and rolling his eyes. “Don’t be sorry.” Lysander was surprised to find his words warm, but laced with a dangerous tone. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing until it had already happened.
Grabbing her, one hand encircling her wrist and the other guiding her waist he quickly spun the both of them around. Now she was backed against the very tree he had been leaning on, and her way blocked from any escape. He leaned into her, her scent driving him further. Lysander hadn’t actually imagined that he would go this far, he knew his family would be surprised and not understanding, but he had what he wanted in front of him and he was going to take it. “Tu es à moi maintenant, Whinifred.”
It was wrong, she didn’t even know his name. He knew that if she said anything, fought back, he could be kicked from the pack before he had even been there a week. None of that mattered. As far as Lysander was concerned, she had started this whole mess, took the game too far, he would just finish it up for her.
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Whinnie couldn't believe she had walked on his masturbating. Something inside her was burning at the thought, her body was on fire and her face was unbelievably hot. Her blonde mane was free and moving all over the place when a slight breeze would pick up. The french women was afraid to move her back to him. It felt like eternity standing there. Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest, her stomach was empty and she wanted so badly to look over her shoulder, but couldn't find it in herself.
His words came out and it made her hiccup suddenly. Whinifred ground her teeth. She didn't like her nervuos habbit. "Monsieur, I didn't mean to..." She whispered. Suddenly his hand was on her wrist and she was turned around her back pressed snuggly against the tree he had been leaning on only a few moments before. She wanted so badly to look down, but she kept her blue eyes up to his grey ones. She didn't know what to do or say, her mouth slightly open from shock. His french words came out surprising her, making her ears go flat on her head and she just stared up at the male before a smile formed on her face.
"Oui, monsieur. Oui"Whinnie said in a whisper, the smile on her face never leaving. The strawberry blonde she wolf didn't feel trapped between the stranger and the tree, just this excitment that she had never felt before. "Tell me your name Monsieur." She said gently wanting to know it at that very moment. Whinifred moved her right leg against his trying to understand and play this new game. It was strange how she didn't feel akward around this stranger. How it almost felt like she had known him for years instead of a half hour. "Do you say you have a mate now Monsieur?" She asked her french accent even thicker then normal with her nerves she was trying to hide so despratly.
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She smiled. She actually smiled, and Lysander couldn’t help but smile back, finding pleasure in the fact that she liked what he was doing to her. What he was about to do. She was giving him the green light and he would, since she would have to do, not hold back. His movements were still rough, forceful, guiding her. He was after all the male, and that what males did. They were the ones in charge of this act, the ones who made the decisions. His pleasure was to come first and foremost, if she got any out of the act, that was just a happy bonus.
He ignored the question about her mate. If he had a mate or not, it did not matter now. He never thought about another women when he was laying with one—that was just bad manners. And it ruined the mood. Furthermore, the gray and white canine decided it just was none of this women’s business, his own personal life. She might think that this meant they were connected on another level, but it was, after all, just sex. The act could be performed with anyone, having a mate did not make that impossible. It did not even make it any more unlikely, he knew that well enough.
Towering over her, he pressed again her harder, his pleasure building. Burying his face in her coat, her breath came heavy against her neck, one hand holding her pinned to the tree and the other exploring areas he should not be permitted to touch. Yet she made no protest, and he wasn’t sure what difference it would make if she did. Still, he owed her something for her generosity. “Lysander. Je suis Lysander.” It was all he could offer he as he pushed himself inside of the female.
End scene!
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