A Story of Marble and Ice

ORWYND
everyone who isn't me is an enemy

The sound that left Orwynd’s throat was not of the manly sort. In a flash of fur, muscles, and snow, the wolf found himself on his back with the stranger on top of him. In an effort to settle the bile rising from his belly, and out of pure instinct, Orwynd blurted, “I don’t mind if you want to be on top.” Humor was his way of getting out of most scuffles in his life, he was no fighter. Humor may not help him tonight. Tail tucked, the wolf planted his feet firmly at the larger male’s chest and belly and he pushed his legs to their full extent. It was all he could do to put as much distance between the two given their current position.

“That’s fine if you don’t swing my way, but, fuck, take it easy.” He ground out through bared fangs, his spine pressing into the cold hard ground below. Orwynd flinched hard when the beast swung his head, expecting to be met with angry jaws, but instead was greeted with an explanation. Muscles stilled when Orwynd saw the scars that looked rather fresh. “Y’know maybe you wouldn’t have had your hide handed to you if you didn't have a stick up your ass.” The wolf growled, trying to retract further into the snow. Orwynd knew how to pick and choose his battles and under the heavy moon of this night, he knew he would not win this. “Alright, Play time’s over, duly noted. You’ve got issues. I have them too.” Orwynd tried to wriggle his way out from under the seething brute. “The difference between us is I don’t bite my way through them.” The wolf did not expect a verbal reply but forced himself to make eye contact with the creature atop him. “Let me up.”