To The Victor, The Spoils

Alastor saw the surprise on the young brute's face, but as Ciná had hoped, he inferred it more as surprise at the offered prize than any sort of uncertainty or nervousness around how to receive it. He smirked and snickered when the red-furred lad made a remark of thrashing him more often in fights, quipping back with a darkly humorous grin. "Careful with your wager, son. When I win, I get to take one of your ladies for me and my wife to enjoy." He winked a single abyssal black eye at Ciná with another chuckle. When the Fenmyre wolf dismissed him to return to the feast and fuck his own wife, Alastor's grin grew into a predatory, lecherous flash of shiny teeth in the pale moonlight, the wolf looking far more monstrous in the dark. "Oh, my boy, you haven't the slightest clue what she'll be in for tonight. Take all the time you like. Stay til morning if it pleases you. Just have fun! Oh, and do feel free to make her scream. I doubt you'll be able to make her louder than I'm going to make my wife tonight."

Laughing again, Alastor bid farewell to Cináed with an almost playful wiggle of his toes before stalking back through the shadows of the night towards Fenmyre, intent on getting drunk with Manea and fucking her brains out all night long too. They might have lost, but he was going to nurse his goddess' wounds in the most pleasurable ways possible.

- exit Alastor -


"Alastor"