since you're looking i'll put on a show

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The restlessness had come full circle. The aching of her body, the fire in her belly that roared more than usual, the inability to sleep soundly because she had just felt so... off kilter, it made sense, now. Morag had suspected it to be the reason when nothing else made sense but now it was confirmed. She could smell it herself as she walked, smelled her and as she skulked through the trees, Morag waved her tail from side to side. She wanted to leave the trail for him, wanted him to be pulled towards the very thing he had been waiting for.

In truth, it had taken a lot of self control to not go and seek him out. Her body itched to be satisfied, her womb called to be filled and Morag simply wanted it. But she managed to hold back the initial desire and instead aimed to drag it out, aimed to tease the beast out of the trees. She had walked to the border with a dangerous smirk upon her marred lips, her golden gaze heated and observant of the trees that did not hold the Walkers claim. He had forbade her womb to be filled by any other whilst she was in heat and she knew his words to be true but Morag would not be Morag if she did not play her games.

She would not leave the territory, not really, but she wanted to see if Vengeance would come to make sure she would not open herself for anothers seed when he realised her scent was drifting to the edge. Her stomach twisted with anticipation, with desire and Morag could feel the heath that blazed beneath her skin and through her veins. It would be sated, if only for a little while each time but she knew it would ignite for the days to come -- over and over. A part of her wondered if someone not of the Walkers would smell her and come to play though she knew how she wanted the game to end. She shivered as she rubbed herself up against the tree, her tail wagging above her rump as her golden gaze roared.

The craving had started and the end did not look to be anywhere close.





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day 1 of morag's heat. by the border of the walkers and once again pushing her luck dpiuhguidgh

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Like flies to shit, he was drawn to her as soon as that stench hit his nostrils. Even with the sun rising beyond the mists beckoning him to slumber the daylight away and rise once more with the moon - fatigue would not take him now. Perhaps the lack of sleep would only fuel his savagery as he followed the trail she left, teasing as she approached the borders despite what they had spoken of before.

He would drag her back if he had to. Half dead or alive if he must. Morag had agreed to mother his gremlins and raise them for their own usage, he would not let her back down now when the scent wafted in the air.

His pace was no casual stroll, no leisure stride to his step. The Warlord took haste to close the distance between himself and Morag, knowing very well that others would come to plant their seed in her garden where his were the ones to be sowed, and his alone. His threat of eating any who he suspected were not from him was no mere threat - but a promise.

If Morag didn't wish to lose any of her pups just after a tiresome birth, she better keep to their previous agreement.

Salivating, muscles pulsating with excitement as he was prepared to fight off any other suitors; he arrived. Hot breath forcefully moving the mist around him as he eyed the woman who was so cheeky to be spreading her scent the way she was. A low growl announced his presence, a feral call for her to pay attention as he approached, ready to begin their days long journey together.

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She toed the line so dangerously, the edge of the border not far from where she brushed up against the tree and Morag could taste the anticipation on her tongue. Despite the wonder of whether or not he would show; Morag knew. He had spoke so sharply, promisingly the last they spoke of her heat that she doubted he would not see it through. Yet she'd not be her if she didn't put him through the works, would she? No, it could never just be that easy -- or sometimes, it could, getting right into the grit of it but other times? Other times Morag liked to play. Vengeance did too, given how he played along with her when it counted.

Morag liked to poke the Devil, it seemed.

Her ears pricked to the sound rumbling through the trees, promising his approach. Morag's lips twisted into a satisfied smirk as she pushed off the tree, dragging her scent along the bark as she cast her head over her shoulder to peer into the shadowed treeline. "Warlord," the bitch cooed, her voice wrapped up in desire and cheek. "I fancy myself a bit of a walk," toe the line indeed, she mused. "I wonder who I will meet," dramatically, challengingly she sighed, tossing her tail from side to side as she looked to further push the man. Oh, she liked it when he was pushed. By the end of it, she would be laden with his demons and Morag would have had every bit of pleasure that she could squeeze from him.



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With a heavy breath he took in her scent that lingered in the woods. The faint smell of another wafted past as well but for the time being he chalked it up to the lingering scent of the other men patrolling the woods. The hairs along his back flinched with anticipation for what was to come.

He wasn't the type to swarm to woman in heat like a moth to a flame - more often than not, if he felt like fucking someone, something, he would just do it when the mood hit. He simply didn't need an invitation from a yearning womb, only the desire to take whatever he wanted in the moment. But now was different. He wanted a progeny to allow their numbers to spread. He wanted his own to be strong and opposing, to take the best that was offered - and that is what the Warlord was here for.

With a step forward, his movements were hostile. Demanding, there was a clear lack in the usual fluidity of his movements as he commanded the scene with the intent of closing in on the woman who dared to tease. “For the next few days you will see none other than me.” Her teasing didn't matter. He had found her now, and they would be tethered from cock to cunt until her heat was over.
 
“Are you willingly going to offer yourself this time, or shall I bend you over myself?”

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Morag let her vibrant gaze settle upon him in all of his glory; strong and commanding of even the air around them. It was a strange situation, one might think, given the give and pull that they continuously had between them but Morag was not scared of his darkness. His darkness called to her own like a kindred spirit. He stood there, demanding and hostile and it did little to deter her. If anything, her belly clenched with anticipation. "Only you," she echoed, tasting the words on her tongue as her lips twisted into that of a coy smile. Vengeance was a beast, a monster and soon, her belly would swell with his seed. She was a beast and a demon all in one -- their children? Oh, the world was simply not ready.

Her laugh was a low rumble as she flicked her tail behind her, "I think you should work for it, Warlord." Morag found that she liked him like this as much as she liked it when he played along. No matter his state, Morag found that he was a beast she would let fuck her. Planting her paws firmly on the ground, she lifted her chin to him with her challenging glint in her fiery depths, "so work for it." She snipped, firmly choosing the option of having him bend her to his will. Today, she wanted the dangerous option.



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Only him.

That's right; he thought.
 

Only me.

And he would let no one else. He would not allow her enough time to find another during this time to threaten what was rightfully his.
 

Only his.

And his testosterone at this moment was rampant. Wild like fire ants crawling across his skin and there was only one solution. None other could distract him from this, from making sure a proper litter would come to the Nightwalkers. A strong litter that he would be proud to call his.

With that in mind, as she challenged him - there was no need to speak further. Morag had made a decision and he would comply. Whatever got her moisture than an oyster. Standing her ground, she made herself look like some immoveable object - something he would soon break and plant himself firmly into in response. All he had to do was beat her down a bit first.

So he moved. Thundering forward with a maw armed with stained weapons, aimed to take the side of her neck and begin their bloody wrestling match. He'd collide with her if she chose not to move still with the attempt to grab some skin and get a hold of the woman.

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He could damage her but he could not break her; that was the thing about Morag. Her tastes? Dangerous, striking and biting. Vengeance ticked every sexual box that she could possibly have and the added raw power that he held -- it made her stomach clench with anticipation as she watched him. Though certainly, he was in his element as a leader, a fighter -- but in that moment, he was in his element of getting what he wanted. He'd get it, even if there was a struggle, a fight -- they both know how Morag wanted it to go, how she wanted it to end. Her tongue slid from behind her teeth and rolled across her lips as she watched him, his body barreling towards her with no remorse.

Though her body had been bred for this, for the fight -- she didn't want to avoid him. She wanted their bodies to collide dangerously, no wiggle room for their teeth and claws to not land upon each other as they battled for the dominance that they knew in the end, would go to Vengeance. The Warlord knew what she was like, knew she liked to poke the ferocious bear to earn his punishment -- it had been like it since the first time she had felt him against her, upon that tree. Morag would make him work for it, the fight part of their usual foreplay but also -- she had meant her words. Work for the honor of filling her womb, with children that would be more demon than wolf. 

His teeth cut into the side of her neck though before his shoulder made complete contact with her own, Morag had twisted slightly on her paws to be able to angle her head down towards his shoulder -- if he did not immediately snap his head to the side to try and force her head -- with a widened jaw of her own, intending to land her teeth on any part of him that the movement would allow. Her eyes, vibrant with the blaze of a forest fire, glistened with desire and and rage. In the end, there would be blood, this much was guaranteed but also -- Morag would feel the bliss of being filled with both cock and semen from the Warlord himself. Could she push him this time more than she had in the past? Anticipation rolled around in her stomach as she thought, we'll soon find out.


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As they collided the scent of another grew in his nostrils, it was unmistakable. "Only you" she cooed earlier, words that were lies according to this lingering scent. She must believe him to be some kind of jester, that his threats from earlier conversations were empty instead of promises for the storm that was about to come. Perhaps today Morag would learn and spread the word that his wrath was true, that his threats posed real weight behind them and not something to take lightly.

And that man, he would be sure to pick apart that scent and figure out who had chosen to cross paths with him. It was brief, but he could have sworn he smelled Aries on her, but he had to be certain before this dance had come to a conclusion. 

Teeth tore into his shoulder as she snapped back with lashing fangs, with her head lowered he took the beautiful moment to grab onto her scruff if he should be so lucky. Should the attack be fruitful, he would hold on and pull back with all his might. Viciously shaking with his grip tight against her nape to gain the upper hand. To send her into a confused dizzied state so he could dominate the woman as he saw fit.

To teach her a proper lesson to take his word as law even when it came to her own body. They had one agreement, during her heat she would be his and his alone... to which she chose to ignore - for that, he would choose a punishment fitting for the crime.

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She had asked for it, practically begged to be punished by the Warlord by allowing someone else to fuck her during her heat and she was finally getting her craving. Some may think that a wolf like Vengeance was only for show, that his bark was worse than his bite but they would be wrong, bark or bite -- he was ferocious and brought all the intensity to the table one may wish for. Her teeth ran through the flesh of his shoulder, her canines glistening with his blood moments before he snagged her nape properly within his own grip and despite being only a little smaller than him in height, he managed to unbalance her. More athletically muscled than meaty muscle, Morag stumbled from the force of his shaking and from her lips tore a snarl, her fiery gaze blinking as the world blurred together as she tried to regain her footing.

Despite wishing for it, she'd not give it up without a challenge. It's who she was, especially towards Vengeance -- it was tastier that way. Furiously the she-beast decided to throw her own weight around alongside his own ministrations, hoping to throw him off by going against the grain -- even if it would tear up her nape. Morag knew scars, had plenty beneath her fur and to have more, especially from something she had asked for, well... bring them. 

Morag shook, writhed and pulled against him, bucking her body wildly to make him holding her that much harder. Her lips were parted as she snarled yet they sat in a smirk, confident and enjoying every moment of it. ^^

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Challenge him she did. They fought for dominance but both knew how this would end. The Warlord had something in mind to deal with her treachery all the while continuing on with their deal from earlier. The longer their fight went on, the longer he had time to think and ponder as to what would be fitting... He had an idea, all he needed was the opening to deliver it.

While she bucked against his grip it only tightened. Shredding her nape as she desperately fought for freedom. With her movement and blood, the lack of intact skin, his teeth lost their grip and she was as wild and free as Morag normally was. With the little pieces of skin that had come undone with his slipping grip, the brute swallowed them as small as they were. Licking his lips and teeth to draw in more of her flavour until she would settle.

As she recovered he rounded around her, a predator as he saw her as prey with hunger in his crimson eyes. He wanted to devour the woman, to sink his teeth further into her skin for smelling like another during her time of the season. Without hesitation he went in for another round with the woman, teeth snapping as he aimed this time for her rump. Claws and paws swinging to take out her legs if possible and bring her down once and for all.

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Very rarely did someone get the best of Morag and very rarely did she wish for it; often if she were fighting, she would seek to bleed them across the floor. The dynamic with Vengeance was one that she often challenged because it was how she got what she wanted from him in the end and he knew what she was doing, there were no lies in that -- yet Morag had purposefully done the opposite of what he had told her and she knew that it would come back to her. She had done it with every bit of delight and if Vengeance hadn't told Aries she was off limits, the blame was partly on him but... come on now, would Morag have listened, truly, if she knew in the long run she would get punished? Perhaps not in the sexual way she so often desired but she lived for the fight, too, and Vengeance would always give her one.

He refused to release her, his teeth only tightening as she felt the skin pull and rip beneath his yellowed teeth. He was furious and rightly so but it only fueled Morag further as she bucked. More marks from him would grace her skin and it only made her want to do it more. It was a sudden thing, to feel his grip loosen and release and Morag's neck thrummed with stinging pain as she bounded a step away, her chest rising and falling from harsh, furious breaths as she aimed her fiery gaze upon the Warlord. She smirked at him over her shoulder, sliding her tongue across her teeth in time to watch him snap for her, his teeth aiming for her rump and there was little she could do to avoid both teeth and claw. Morag avoided his teeth in her rump but he swiped at her legs, clawing away at her and throwing her off balance.

Morag snarled as she went down, her eyes ablaze with fire and fury as she tried to regain her balance though the harsh movements of bucking and writhing, it had left her momentarily breathless. ^^

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Fierce as ever - Vengeance had more to this than their usual little game. So even his antics were brought up a notch to make up for his anger as the smell of Aries continues to invade his senses. There was not even a piece of him that wanted to watch as she smirked over her shoulder, treachery was a foot and he was certain of that.

She avoided his teeth but at least her rear went down with a swipe of his paws. Seizing the moment by attempting to slam his body into hers to topple her further. He had every desire to wrestle her to the ground, to pin her into a final moment of submission to let him - well, do as he wanted to do. Both to honour their original agreement as well as make her remember not to trifle with him in these petty little games of hers. When he said she was his for her heat - he absolutely meant it.

To finish their little battle he'd go around near her rear - quickly nipping at her thighs and seeing if she would lulled to relax with a few licks of his tongue along her legs. Up and up he would go to tease and pleasure her in different ways. A ploy for something else more nefarious, to lull her into a false sense of security and victory in sense as the next step to their dance would begin. Only a few more deeds had to be done and this was one of him. All he had to do was get her to stop moving.

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She didn't trust him. Or well, she trusted him to be exactly who he showed himself to be: a heathen. Aside from that, one could never know what the Warlord was up to; somewhat similar to the she-beast. Yet as she huffed and puffed beneath him, Morag's gaze was a mixture of anticipation and distrust, her stomach swirling as she eyed him. It was unlike the Warlord to give in so easily to the fucking, preferring to fight as much as possible before he fucked her silly -- yet Morag could not help but be lulled by his ministrations.

His tongue, one she had found so talented, caressed her fur and skin and she kicked out a hind paw at him, looking to irk him with a scratch of her claws. It was all she managed as her mind grew fuzzy, her skin aflame with the desire and rage. ^^

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She shouldn't have trusted him...

Even in this instance as he nearly promised a different pleasure - letting his tongue do the work in preparing her for the familiar song and dance she had anticipated they both were looking forward to... while he worked his "magic" in her tender spots, skillfully as though practiced and genuine with his desire to give her ultimate pleasure that a man could bring - he had ulterior motives. 

The scent was unmistakable. Aries was certainly here before, and the taste of another man lingering around her, in her, lit a furious fire in his belly. Once confirmed, and once given the access - he would only get rougher for a moment, pressing his tongue further until a tooth finally slipped in, and the moment he felt that —

The Warlord did what he had desired. Biting down on the tender, swollen feminine flesh. Hoping to tear what she clearly enjoyed using. He had to work quickly, knowing Morag she would swing around any second now and retaliate against his aggressions, and so he simply snapped and bit at her vagina, at any of the skin he could grasp until it was eventually out of his range.

Call it a... medieval clitoridectomy, should he have his way.

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