Blood of the Ancients

The brutes spirit, his ego, the fiber of his being... it railed against being given such an ultimatum. Choose yes or die. Scylla didn't see it like that, however. She saw it as a chance to continue his story. And if she just so happened to be in the acknowledgments... all the better.

In time, the man spoke the word that she'd been wanting to hear. Scylla grinned and slid down to lay upon her belly before him. One paw lightly gripped either side of his face and the woman leaned in, her lips brushing his own before she claimed him in a deep, thorough kiss. The blood of his enemies melded with their saliva and, when Scylla pulled back, there were smudges of claret upon her maw. "Always better to seal such deals with a kiss, is it not?"

With the taste of the gigantic man still on her tongue, Scylla set to work. She attended the wound in his thigh first, clicking her tongue and shaking her head when she noted just how close he'd been to certain death. With delicate digits, Scylla expertly stitched the wound, smoothing a premade salve of honey, feverfew and willow bark upon it to initiate the healing process. Thankfully, the rest of the wounds were minor compared to the one in his thigh, though the one at shoulder and neck wasn't anything to laugh at.

Now that she was closer to the brutes head, Scylla could inspect his face while she worked. As she stitched up the shoulder wound, the woman watched his face for any sort of flinching. He'd done very well so far and she was both proud and intrigued. "I am Scylla, Sovereign of these lands and of the pack called Obscura." Dual-toned eyes searched his face before she asked,"What is your name, giant one?"

With his wounds tended, Scylla stepped away, cleaning her bloodied paws off in the snow. An icy breeze began to pick up, shuffling the foliage in the nearby trees. Giving a little wuff, a short, squat little creature ambled from the shadows and came to her side. Scylla spoke some instructions to the little bush dog and he was off, returning quickly with a massive bison hide between his jaws. Scylla dismissed him for the evening. Just in time. The wind had whipped up into a right gale.

Taking the huge fur in paw, Scylla draped it over her new acquisition. Rather than leave him though, she slid beneath the fur as well, nestling up against him, belly to belly. The woman wiggled her slender frame between the brute's forelegs, forcing him to embrace her. "Looks like we're in for a bit of a tempest," the fae purred. "Get comfortable, rest, heal. I'll keep you safe."

"Scylla"