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She was hungry. She was very hungry. The Wildling’s stomach rumbled as she crouched further down into the brush, eyes fixed on the doe in front of her. Wind drifted through the air, the chill already setting in. Not that she felt cold, no, this was nothing compared to the Wildling’s home. What was a touch of autumn compared to the deep freeze, the eternal night following eternal day? The bushes no longer hid her well, leaves long since a multicolored carpet along the forest floor. Her dark fur pooled like a shadow, doing its best to keep her prey from noticing it was being stalked.

A twig snapped.

The deer’s ears shot up, on alert. So was the Wildling. There was something here, something hunting her prey. Light was fading, sun dipping lower and lower on the horizon. There wasn’t anything on the wind. Upwind, her mind whispered, it must be upwind of you. It could smell her. It had the advantage. Even still, the Wildling was hungry.

The deer took a hesitant step, attention transfixed by something to the Wildling’s right. That was fine. That was perfect, even. It wouldn’t see her, not in time to run. A chase was far from the first thing she wanted. It would only serve to tire her out more.

Launching out of the underbrush, the Wildling’s teeth met flesh as she bit into the doe’s throat. Hot blood filled her mouth and she swallowed it down without a second thought. Food was food. A wise thing didn’t waste, not even in the heat of the hunt. Wasting meant wasting away, and the Wildling was far from a fan. Hunger didn’t suit her.

Slowly, as its life bled out into resting plants and open mouths, the doe staggered down, heaving its last breaths. Thankful for its sacrifice, she stood, blood dripping from her mouth, teeth painted red with it. It was a reward, the joys of a good hunt. She was going to need to wash later, lest the blood matt the fur on her chest, but that was for the future. For now—the Wildling glanced up at the sound of another twig, eyes locking onto what had been so alarming to the doe.

There was a man, a human man, eyes fixed on the Wildling, wide in terror. His clothes looked patched, worn from use, brown hair cut short. A growl from the Wildling made him set down his gun, pale palms up in the air, as nonthreatening as possible while yellow eyes examined him. From this position, with him on the ground, she could quite easily outrun him, take him down, if need be.

She swiped her hand with another snarl, instructing him to set his gun aside.

“You want… okay, yeah, no problem…” The man’s voice was gruff, though respectful. “I just need to unload my gun, please?”

With a nod, the Wildling kept a close eye on him as the man moved with slow, careful motions, unloading the gun. How nice of him, allaying her fears like that. She liked him, this man who smelled like rust and soil and oil. The scruffy state of his stubble, along with the smattering of grey hairs on the short hairs, was almost cute, despite the disarray he was in. It almost made him look like a wolf. That would be a good name for him. She certainly didn’t miss the way his eyes followed her motions, stomach rumbling.

Poor thing. Being kind wouldn’t hurt too bad, she wouldn’t be able to eat all this meat on her lonesome, anyway. Sighing, she pointed at him, to the carcass, and then to where her home was. The Wolf Man blinked at her, blue eyes wide. Just what was so confusing about this? It was soon to be night and he was hungry, the Wildling wouldn’t mind sharing, just this once.

“Do…” his voice started up again as he stood, motions slow and careful, gun slung over one shoulder. “Do you want me to go somewhere?”

Good enough. It wasn’t as if he knew where her home was. Nodding again, the Wildling slung the doe over her shoulders. The Wolf Man gave her as wide a berth as he dared as she grunted at him, pointing at the vague direction of her home with her eyes. He seemed to understand, stumbling through the undergrowth in the dying light like a child. It was adorable, the way he glanced at her now and again, drawing ever closer as the sun sunk beneath the horizon.

They weren’t far away when he spoke up, as quiet as he could. “Thank you, Wildling. I don’t know why you’re doing this, but thank you.”

She didn’t know why she was doing this either, but it was much too late to back out now. Maybe it was the way his clothing clung to his form, the way she could hear his stomach growl, even frightened. He hadn’t shot her when he had the chance, he hadn’t even screamed or tried, simply setting aside his weapon and remaining calm. Good behavior had to be rewarded, after all.

It took a bit of gesturing to get him into her cave, less so to urge him to sit as she started a fire. Silly humans got cold so easily, and the Wildling was not a fan of waking to a frozen corpse. A snarl and a wave let him know it was his task to butcher the deer while she ensured he would be warm, the heat of the fire trapped by the bends of the cave. It was a comfortable home, littered with soft pelts, a stream running through for fresh water.

As the fire crackled to life, she took it upon herself to rinse the blood out of her fur with a few quick splashes, the Wolf Man glancing up at her as he divvied up the meat, setting some on skewers to cook. Right, the poor thing wasn’t a fan of it raw. Well, the Wildling supposed she could eat some cooked meat. It was a special occasion, after all.

Cleaned, she returned, helping him break down the animal. All in all, it was quick work, the meat soon roasting over the fire. This was a change of pace, cooking her food. The Wildling usually wasn’t a fan of all the time wasted waiting, but humans seemed to like it, refusing to eat meat raw at all. It was odd, but she was not one to judge. They let her be and she did they, refusing to accommodate this man would be rude, especially after he had been so polite.

He ate the meat quickly, failing to hide his hunger. At that rate, he was going to give himself a stomachache. With a growl, the Wildling showed him, eating slower. He seemed to get the hint, the rest of the meal continuing in companionable silence. Now and then, he shifted, eyes wandering to where she had sprawled out, forearm resting on one propped-up knee.

Quietly, he cleared his throat. Yellow eyes focused on him as he began to speak.

“Have you… um… lived here long?”

A silly question, but the Wildling would humor him. Nodding, she made five circles with one finger for five seasonal cycles.

He frowned. “Five years?” More nodding. “That’s a long time to be on your own.”

Maybe it was, but the Wildling was not lonely. She shrugged, inclining her head to him. She wasn’t very alone right now.

“Yes, I guess I am here.” A light flush lit up the apples of his cheeks. “You have a very lovely home.”

Chuffing, she blinked at him slowly, showing her mirth.

“Thank you for letting me stay here.” A humility ran through his voice.

The Wildling growled lightly, shrugging again.

“May I…” It sounded like it was painful for him to say the words. “May I spend the night? It’s very dark and I don’t think I’ll be able to find my way back.”

Was he not expecting to? The Wildling nodded again and pointed to her bed, a pile of soft, worn pelts. There was room enough for the both of them and it wouldn’t do to have a human freeze to death on her cave floor. It would be such a pain to drag him out, that and the meat didn’t keep well. So much would go to waste by the time she was hungry again.

Not that this human had much meat on him to begin with. The Wildling was not blind to the way his clothing hung off of his form, the lines of his face, the way there was no padding to him at all. He was not dressed warmly enough for this weather, a worn thin jacket protecting him from the elements, nothing like her thick fur. A chill must have crept into his bones by now. With a start, the Wildling realized she had been staring, he had been staring back.

As she beckoned him closer, he obliged. There was nothing to it, he was simply cold, and she was closer to the fire. His eyes were moons in the dark, pupils wider than normal. It must have been hard for him to see, with only the light of the fire to guide him. He had wiped his mouth and hands clean, evidently full, from the way his stomach had quieted, and desperation had fled his motions. Good. It wouldn’t do for her guest to go hungry.

She had put down her own meal and cleaned up when he scooted ever closer, within arm’s reach. Blue eyes fixed on her, breath speeding up as he summoned his courage. Tentative fingers carefully intruded on her space, attentive for any display of displeasure. Smart, very smart. The hitch in his chest when she brushed against his hand with hers was telling enough.

“May I—” nerves cracked his voice when he dared speak again. “May I kiss you?”

With a pleased growl, the Wildling didn’t bother responding. Slow and languid, belly full and fire crackling, she leaned in, pressing her lips to his.

His teeth were so small, so dull. That was the only thought in the Wildling’s mind as he kissed her, careful of her own fangs. Fingers bunched up his own clothing, the poor thing doing his best to keep his hands to himself as his breath sped up. The Wildling chuffed out a laugh, her Wolf Man flinching at the sudden sound.

Her Wolf Man. She liked that. She liked that very much. The human was fine company, making conversation as best he could when one partner was unable to respond, as respectful of her as he would any other human. Good. He was being good for her, and the Wildling wasn’t opposed to rewarding that with more than just food. People were people, after all, and if he thought she couldn’t smell the way he had started to sweat, blood travelling down, then he was a fool.

Taking one of his hands in her clawed one, the Wildling placed it onto her breast, much to her partner’s shock. He gasped, pulling away slightly. In the firelight, he looked just about perfect, eyes blown wide with desire and anxiety, worrying so much about what was and wasn’t allowed that he forgot to let himself enjoy it all. That was something the Wildling could fix. Blue eyes met yellow and she hummed, deep and low, in her chest. He understood that, fidgeting just enough to part his legs, erection plainly visible through the fabric of his pants.

“I… If you’d like to… um… I wouldn’t be opposed…” It was so adorable the way he struggled for words. For this, no words would be needed.

Instead of a response, the Wildling simply kissed him again, holding his cheeks in her palms. With a helpless moan, he opened his mouth for her, letting her deepen the kiss without complaint. She could taste their dinner on his tongue, the metallic smell of blood still stuck in his teeth. This wasn’t what her people did but, for him, she found herself giving more and more ground. The way his arousal only grew was certainly enticing.

Letting loose a friendly growl, she pushed closer to him, one clawed hand wandering down to squeeze his member. A whimper slipped out of him as he rocked against her hand, fresh blood filling their mouths as her teeth cut his tongue. The man didn’t notice, hands cradling her breasts, lightly rolling the buds of her nipples between his fingers.

She groaned into his mouth, tugging him into a better angle by his hair. Yes. So, this was why humans did this. It wasn’t a bad feeling, this proximity. It was nice to feel in control like this, not laid out under him, letting him have his way. Humans were so cute like that—no. Her human was so cute like this, so eager, so willing. The Wildling couldn’t wait to take him, to feel him inside her. She could smell herself, slick for him. Surely, he could smell it too, with how close they were.

As she put more pressure on his quickly hardening cock, he whined into her mouth, pleading, insistent. He pulled back again, a blush high on his cheeks. A tinge of shame filled his motions as he ducked his head, embarrassed with her as one of his own species, though a trickle of his blood ran from where her canine had nicked his lip.

“I’m afraid I’m a bit out of practice.” He was ashamed about that? “I’m sorry—”

A huff from her silenced him, pupils eclipsing the blue of his eyes. Pawing at his pants, the Wildling opened her hands to him, conveying that, as much as she didn’t want to cut him, she was going to tear his clothing right off if he didn’t strip down right now. The flush on his cheeks only deepened as he understood her meaning, mumbling things meant to be compliments. Though it was sweet he thought her attractive, the Wildling didn’t need to hear it.

She pulled his shirt over his head as he wiggled out of his underthings, tossing his pants somewhere into the dark of the cave. Sitting before her, naked, her Wolf Man glowed in the flickering of the fire, pale skin stained a lovely orange. He looked like a sunset in this light, dotted with freckles and birthmarks. The urge to trace them all filled the Wildling’s mind, to find shapes in them like she had with the stars.

His cock, though, had other ideas. It stood from a thatch of coarse hair, erect and wanting, the very beginnings of precum dripping at the tip. As he followed her eyes, that blush only spread to his chest, lingering under dark hair. How cute that he was so hairless, so unlike herself. Perhaps she looked like that, underneath her fur, speckled with freckles and blushes.

They weren’t going to do this here. If the Wildling was going to reward her Wolf Man, she was going to do it properly. Picking him up as gently as she could, the Wildling cradled him to her chest, despite his protests. His fingers clutched at her shoulders, irrationally afraid that she was about to drop him. Foolish human, she would never treat her bedmate with such roughness. She was not the kind to mar her rewards with pain.

Setting him down in her bed, a comfortable pile of pelts, tanned and well broken in, she had to take him in. She had never been one to covet humans, not one to covet her own kind, either. This man, though, he was different. She liked him in a way she had liked few others, his open want, his tentative affection, his obvious trust. There was a desperation in him, a need to be seen and wanted and cared for, a desperation she could fill. It was odd, true, different and new, but she was willing, and, evidently, so was he.

His hands ran through the dark fur on her thighs, hesitantly petting, eyes on hers for the slightest hint of denial. The Wildling simply crooned at him, bending to nuzzle at his cheek. It was only fair that she got to show affection the way her people did. As she straddled him, she dug out an older wolf pelt, pointing at it and then him.

Chuckling, his hands wandered to cup the swell of her ass, running up to play at the small of her back. “You think I look like a wolf?”

Yes, he understood. Her nod was stern as she repeated the gesture.

“I wouldn’t think that, but thank you.” His face drifted to the side, voice creaking in embarrassment.

He wasn’t allowed to feel embarrassed. Draping the pelt under his shoulders, the Wildling positioned herself properly, hands on either side of his head. A groan slipped out of the both of them as she sank down, her hips flush with his. It had really been too long for the both of them. She started to move, slowly at first, giving them both time to adjust, and then, far more quickly.

Moans dropped out of her human like rain from the clouds, loud sounds and quiet whimpers alike as her hands played across his body. He was so sensitive, groaning as she trailed her claws down his stomach. Careful not to hurt him, the Wildling growled as his hands knotted through her fur, holding on as if he were to fly away. A faint sheen of sweat clung to his skin. Good. He wasn’t cold. Humans froze too easily.

She panted, legs squeezing his hips tighter as pleasure built up in her core. It really had been too long. Her Wolf Man whimpered at that, trying to rut into her desperately. He was just so cute like this, fragile and needy, skin stained pink from his blush. The smell of his arousal hung heavy in the air, tinged with salt and musk. Desire glittered in his eyes as little encouraging sounds slipped out of him. He was close, so close. The poor thing, it must have been such a dry spell if, after just a few minutes like this, his body was taking itself apart.

“Wait—I-I’m going to—” The Wolf Man pleaded with her, trying to warn her.

With a low coo, the Wildling tucked a stray lock behind his ear. That was enough of an answer to him, soothing enough that the worry melted out of his form. More than just his worry, it seemed. Though his muscles jumped, a deep relaxation set into his bones, tiny gasps punctuating every time she sank down on his cock.

Digging his nails into her skin, his back arched as he cried out, shuddering and shaking. His pelvis jerked up in shallow thrusts, toes curling behind her back while his voice cracked. The Wildling could feel him release in her, hot and heady as he went limp, breathing hard. Blue eyes watched her as she stilled, pulling off of him. His fingers clung to her arms, insistent on keeping close. Kneeling on the deer pelt beside him, she obliged, fur soft against his skin.

“You didn’t…” His voice was quiet, barely audible over the crackling of the fire. “You didn’t finish?”

How sweet. His fingers clumsily fell into her lap, trying to return the favor before he hauled himself up on wobbly arms, pressing kisses against her neck until she laid back. A touch of sex was quite the confident booster, she had to chuckle as her Wolf Man painted sloppy kisses against her stomach. Almost fondly, she ran her claws against his messy hair, gentle, careful not to break skin.

Nuzzling into her hand, a little groan spilled out of him as his mouth wandered between her legs. The Wildling rumbled as he lapped kitten licks against her, tasting their combined arousal on her cunt. His only response was to lick harder against her folds as her thighs wrapped around him, clawed feet digging into his back. Bold, this one. Quite bold to stick his face into a wildling’s cunt without fear. Maybe that fear had been fucked out of him.

As his tongue played at her clit, the Wildling pressed his face further into her, control slipping just a bit. The tips of her claws pricked at his scalp, not enough to hurt, but more than capable of sending the message across. She wanted more, and she was going to get more. Her Wolf Man understood, not bothering with teasing as he sucked at her clit.

Pleasure bloomed at his touch, the Wildling more pent up, more eager than she’d anticipated. He moaned and whimpered as she took the initiative, maneuvering him to wherever she wanted. Without a hint of complaint, he obliged, attentive to growls and snarls and rumbles as he worked. He touched her as if she were a holy thing, a beauty too great to look directly at. That was alright. Anything was alright if he just continued what he was doing, mouth drawing all sorts of sounds out of her. Oh, she was keeping this one.

With a harsh snarl, she tipped her head up in orgasm, her Wolf Man pausing in his motions, blood running cold. Her hand pushed him back down, breath coming in pants as he realized what was happening. She could smell the way his fear ebbed back into the aftereffects of arousal, obediently licking until she shook him off, pleasure becoming the dull ache of overstimulation.

Her Wolf Man looked like a mess, a mixture of her fluids and his own cum decorating his cheeks. Blue eyes had turned glassy as his spent cock twitched, curious as to whether or not it would be needed again. He was breathing hard as well, staring up at her with the utmost adoration. It chipped something in the Wildling’s heart; it was an all too familiar look. Had no one taken this poor thing to bed? Had no one given him the attention he so clearly needed?

Carefully, she urged him to the stream with tugs and closed-mouth kisses, washing the effects of their night off of him. Obedient as he was, her Wolf Man still flinched at the cold water, whimpering as he tried to get away. Did he think she meant to let him freeze? What a silly thought. He simply needed to be clean and then he could return to the warmth, nothing complicated.

Soon enough, his torment was over. Quickly as ever, the Wildling cleaned herself off, drying herself and her companion with a bolt of old fabric she had found long ago. It had likely been a blanket at some point, blown away into one of her fields for her use. Nothing ever went to waste, that was the first rule of her cave, nothing ever needed to be thrown out. That would be accepting defeat and the Wildling was never that kind of person.

She pulled her Wolf Man back onto her pile of pelts, pressing him close to her. Shifting, he mumbled something, cheeks freshly rosy with a new blush. He still settled, back resting against the fur of her chest as she held him. Nothing would bother them here, especially not him. Creatures knew not to bother wildlings.

Smoothing down his hair as best she could, the Wildling rubbed her cheek against the top of his head, growling out a low warning not to wander off. It was unnecessary, from how her human’s breath was already slowing, fire and furs warming him comfortably. This wasn’t too bad a night, surprisingly enough. The Wildling should keep this one, this respectful human that obeyed her, asked for permission. He was just so polite, how could she resist?