So we meet again

If there was one thing Alastor never passed the chance on, it was a good hunt. There was something to be said about the thrill of the pursuit, the chase, the fight and struggle and the climax of death claiming his prey. That was why when Manea asked him to try and hunt down one of those larger dire wolves with her for a little bit of fun, the manic madman had been all over the idea. He led his mate around the northern tundras until he'd picked up a scent trail of one of the wolves, following it even further north. Of course, Manea didn't make hunting with her easy, not with all the less-than innocent brushing of her side and nipping teeth at his neck and ear. He shot her a wolfish grin at every teasing touch, and more than once he considered abandoning their hunt to feast on a much more delicious type of prey, but he knew the reward that would wait at the end of their hunt would be far better than taking his prize early. If a repeat performance of their first night together lay in store after their dire wolf hunt, it would be well worth the wait.

Coming up north toward the strange ice bridge that had formed a couple of seasons ago, Alastor found the wolf's scent growing stronger. He lifted his head, black eyes peering around the open tundra—and a surprised gasp coming from him when Manea graced the side of his neck with another nibble. He shot her a salacious leer and hungry grin, nipping his jaws back at her. "If you keep that up, I'm going to drop the hunt and fuck you silly right here in the brush," he warned her with playful teasing in his voice as lustful eyes roamed over the svelte form of his beautiful violet galaxy of a fae. He loved how insatiable his wife was for him; she fed his urges and desires, kept the flames burning in his soul, aroused him and riled him up like no other. His Manea was perfect in practically every single way and he loved her more and more deeply with each passing day.

His teasing threat issued, Alastor looked back out over the tundra while playfully batting her rump with his bushy tail. Suddenly, there! Heading towards the ice bridge was the hulking form of one of those giant dire wolves. "Looks like our friends are trying to go home, darling," he commented, giving her his signature toothy smile. "We can't have that now, can we?" Not waiting for her answer, Alastor shot off towards the bridge to intercept the dire wolf. The wolf had already begun to cross, but the flame-kissed brute had no intentions of letting him leave. Alastor charged onto the ice—and immediately slipped and crashed face first onto the slippery ice. The dire wolf turned with a confused look, eyeing the crumpled black wolf with a raised brow.

Scrabbling back to his paws, Alastor snarled and used his claws to grip to the ice for better traction. He lunged for the dire wolf with paws open wide, tackling and gripping the bigger wolf before losing his footing again and sending both brutes tumbling into the icy water below. With a splash, both wolves plunged into the frigid water, kicking and slashing at one another in the murky surf. Alastor managed to kick off of the dire wolf's stomach, propelling himself up to the surface and breaking through with an explosion of cold spray and gasps for air. The dire wolf emerged as well a few feet away, snarling at Alastor and already going for the shore. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! I'm trying to leave!" the dire wolf snapped at the black and red wolf swimming to beat him to the shore. "Exactly! You're not going anywhere!" Alastor retorted, both wolves making it back to the rocky shore at the same time and throwing themselves at one another, snapping jaws at flesh and tumbling about on the ground.

WC: 679
Total: 1021 / 1500


"Alastor"