Exotic.
It was the one word Nixus used to sum up himself in the pack, nowadays. Others would call themselves ‘brave’ or ‘noble’ or ‘pure’ or some synonym of ‘strong’ but Nixus did not need any such delusions to describe himself. The turned werewolf was not one who had the luxury of being a braggart: he had fought tooth and nail in order to be anything more than ‘Thin-blood’ and even then, he still occasionally heard whispers of the derogatory title.
Mating season was an exciting time for the pack. Humans had no equivilant, so it was hard to aptly describe it However, the time was a mystical one for every one of the moon’s chosen sons. It was a time of celebration, and of honour and of status and, if you were skilled enough, of finding a mate and fucking her until she was full of your lineage.
Nixus had never been as intimately involved in a mating season as he was this year. The previous two years, he had not been considered good enough to mate with any of the females worth having. The pack had yet to induct any females who had been turned in a long time, meaning that most of the ‘Thin-bloods’ were doomed to being alone. Nixus was different though. Nixus had earned the right to be part of the celebrations through feats of strength and cunning and through proving himself a true part of the pack. This year, he would prove himself amongst the pack and take a woman for himself. When it came time for all the single male's to make known who they would being fighting for, his ambition demanded that he take the most extravagant prize he could: and that meant that he must set his heights high.
Valkyria. She was haughty and she was beautiful and, perhaps most important to Nixus, she was coveted. So many of the pack wanted Valkyria’s hand for their own; both for status and for lineage that they were willing to kill and die for it. Nixus saw Valkyria as his next step towards pack position. Her place as daughter of the current alpha would have elevate Nixus to a position in the pack that meant his blood would no longer be called into question.
It helped that she was an incredibly attractive prospect. He couldn’t help but smile at the prospect of having such a woman as his alone. The thought of monopolising her every curve or of taking those small, cherry petal lips against his or of feeling her soft skin underneath his fingers, caressing every inch of it with explorative fingers and hungry lips…
The night would begin the weeks of feasting and fighting, but Nixus refused to allow such dalliances to distract him from his purpose. He had awoken from slumber early that day: earier than nearly everyone else and had left the camp in a hurry. It was something habitual for Nixus: escape the camp early, roam around as the wolf, return at a time he might be needed.
It was the one word Nixus used to sum up himself in the pack, nowadays. Others would call themselves ‘brave’ or ‘noble’ or ‘pure’ or some synonym of ‘strong’ but Nixus did not need any such delusions to describe himself. The turned werewolf was not one who had the luxury of being a braggart: he had fought tooth and nail in order to be anything more than ‘Thin-blood’ and even then, he still occasionally heard whispers of the derogatory title.
Mating season was an exciting time for the pack. Humans had no equivilant, so it was hard to aptly describe it However, the time was a mystical one for every one of the moon’s chosen sons. It was a time of celebration, and of honour and of status and, if you were skilled enough, of finding a mate and fucking her until she was full of your lineage.
Nixus had never been as intimately involved in a mating season as he was this year. The previous two years, he had not been considered good enough to mate with any of the females worth having. The pack had yet to induct any females who had been turned in a long time, meaning that most of the ‘Thin-bloods’ were doomed to being alone. Nixus was different though. Nixus had earned the right to be part of the celebrations through feats of strength and cunning and through proving himself a true part of the pack. This year, he would prove himself amongst the pack and take a woman for himself. When it came time for all the single male's to make known who they would being fighting for, his ambition demanded that he take the most extravagant prize he could: and that meant that he must set his heights high.
Valkyria. She was haughty and she was beautiful and, perhaps most important to Nixus, she was coveted. So many of the pack wanted Valkyria’s hand for their own; both for status and for lineage that they were willing to kill and die for it. Nixus saw Valkyria as his next step towards pack position. Her place as daughter of the current alpha would have elevate Nixus to a position in the pack that meant his blood would no longer be called into question.
It helped that she was an incredibly attractive prospect. He couldn’t help but smile at the prospect of having such a woman as his alone. The thought of monopolising her every curve or of taking those small, cherry petal lips against his or of feeling her soft skin underneath his fingers, caressing every inch of it with explorative fingers and hungry lips…
The night would begin the weeks of feasting and fighting, but Nixus refused to allow such dalliances to distract him from his purpose. He had awoken from slumber early that day: earier than nearly everyone else and had left the camp in a hurry. It was something habitual for Nixus: escape the camp early, roam around as the wolf, return at a time he might be needed.
