Tiptoe Through the Window
03-01-2019, 05:33 PM
ORWYND
everyone who isn't me is an enemy
everyone who isn't me is an enemy
The wolf’s eyes were fixated on the blood staining the female’s fiery pelt. His gut tightened pleasurably at the sight, growling in admiration though the sound was muffled by the caribou’s throat. Heavy pants racked the male’s body as he felt the life ebb away from the groaning bull. He held tightly, yanking hard on the windpipe for good measure as the beast died with fear in its eyes. It wasn’t until Orwynd lifted his head to praise Paradise for her aid that he realized her muzzle was clean. Confusion flashed in his amber eyes as they traveled back to the blemish in her pelt, realizing then that the blood was her own.
"Well done, I've never hunted with anyone else before. It was fun!"
Orwynd revealed a rather bloody smile and rolled his eyes playfully as he made his way towards his companion. “You would’ve had more fun if you kept up,” The man brought his nose to her wound and gave it a few firm platonic licks, tongue tangling with skin and fur. Her blood was earthy, wild. Their proximity sent chills down his spine, causing the fur on his shoulders to bristle. Orwynd’s eyes lifted to meet Paradise’s and the man grinned rather smugly, “Snail.” He teased with a final lick to the shallow cut. She would be fine.
The wolf’s concern dwindled as quickly as it rose as he turned from her back to the freshly killed caribou. He reached down and fastened his teeth to the skin on the bull’s buttocks, the softest and easiest part to consume. Because the kill had been made almost entirely on his own, Orwynd had no qualms about taking his rightful place to feed first. Paradise would best learn to become a better hunter quickly if she had plans on staying in the North. It was an unforgiving bleak land and she would need more than mice and the occasional rabbit to keep her health. The meat was hot against the male’s tongue as he gobbled mouthfuls of muscle. Blood saturated his chest and face and gathered underneath him in the snow. A red throne. After several bites, Orwynd swung his rump to the side; a silent invitation for the inexperienced female to join their feast.
"Well done, I've never hunted with anyone else before. It was fun!"
Orwynd revealed a rather bloody smile and rolled his eyes playfully as he made his way towards his companion. “You would’ve had more fun if you kept up,” The man brought his nose to her wound and gave it a few firm platonic licks, tongue tangling with skin and fur. Her blood was earthy, wild. Their proximity sent chills down his spine, causing the fur on his shoulders to bristle. Orwynd’s eyes lifted to meet Paradise’s and the man grinned rather smugly, “Snail.” He teased with a final lick to the shallow cut. She would be fine.
The wolf’s concern dwindled as quickly as it rose as he turned from her back to the freshly killed caribou. He reached down and fastened his teeth to the skin on the bull’s buttocks, the softest and easiest part to consume. Because the kill had been made almost entirely on his own, Orwynd had no qualms about taking his rightful place to feed first. Paradise would best learn to become a better hunter quickly if she had plans on staying in the North. It was an unforgiving bleak land and she would need more than mice and the occasional rabbit to keep her health. The meat was hot against the male’s tongue as he gobbled mouthfuls of muscle. Blood saturated his chest and face and gathered underneath him in the snow. A red throne. After several bites, Orwynd swung his rump to the side; a silent invitation for the inexperienced female to join their feast.
This is a mature character. Prone to foul language & unprovoked harassment.