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Realms: Taps Logs

Werewolf Soul of Crystal Light

Sulochana does not release her hold on Malachai -- instead she closes her small hand around one of his silvery braids and holds on, purring up at him, "I think... I would like another drink! Would you care to accompany me, mmm?" Mischievously she adds, "-and you can tell me why I'm tricksy too, as we walk!"

Malachai smirks slightly, "You try to trip up my thoughts. Tease me with a little information. That's what makes you tricksy." He's guiding her toward a different drinks stand. This one smells richly of honey-beer.

Sulochana gives a lady-like snort, "That's not tricksy -- that's just teasing flirtation!" She laughs as she realizes where they're headed, adding mischievously, "No more tricksy than giving me too much alcohol to drink!"

Malachai says, with as much carelessness as he can manage, "Too much? One cup of mead will be too much for you? I have seriously underestimated you, then." Sulochana laughs at that, teasingly tickling Malachai's sides for a moment! She slides sensuously under his arm as soon as she feels the twitch of skin under her fingers, though, leaning back against Malachai's broad front as she waits for the barrel to be tapped. Malachai has the discipline to not do more than shiver slightly at the tickling, but not quite enough to keep from wrapping his arms warmly around 'Chana when she slithers against him so enticingly -- and he is certainly not objecting to having her lean against him.

Sulochana smiles as she accepts the foaming mug of beer from the beaming young man behind the counter, then has a slow sip. She's thoughtful as she savors the beer, enjoying the sweet brown richness of it sliding smoothly down her throat. She glances around then, a fond smile on her face as she watches her beloved extended family relaxing and enjoying themselves, and she can't help a grin at how excited Rachel looks as she dances with Chanti. A thought occurs to her then, and she looks inquiringly up at Malachai, "So... what made you decide to reveal your dual nature, then?"

The town elder leans his cheek against the top of her head and nuzzles lightly, "Me personally? Or the town in general?"

Sulochana smiles up at him, not shifting from under his nuzzle, "You, of course. Friendsville follows you, after all."

Malachai murmurs, "Friendsville follows me, yes. We didn't intend to reveal it at first, but it seemed wisest in the end." He doesn't mention that he felt it important his future mate know his nature.

Sulochana wriggles comfortably in his arms, one small hand resting on Malachai's clasped hands around her middle. She's still smiling as she leans back against him again, adding, "What happened that changed your mind, elder?"

Malachai spreads one hand so it nearly covers her belly and says, "I thought it best if you were going to accept my suit. One should know what they are facing." He himself hasn't had any of the mead.

Sulochana purrs lazily as Malachai's large, strong hands sort of stroke over her. She twists smoothly in his arms and holds up her mug with a grin, "Here, you should have some too!" She knows sharing a drink together is shockingly, wonderfully intimate to some folks, although she doesn't know if that particular taboo exists here. Curiously she adds, "Were you that worried, though, considering you know you can control the change?"

Malachai looks at her carefully, though his heart speeds up quite a lot. He lowers his head to take a drink from the mug, apparently expecting her to hold it for him -- or at least, he doesn't seem to want to move his hands from where they now rest on her back, "Not worried, no. But it is still for the best."

Sulochana is pleased -- it looks like sharing a drink is indeed seen as intimate here! She's careful to hold the mug well for him so he can smoothly sip from it. Once he's done she's just as careful to take a sip, glancing up with demure flirtation from under her soft eyelashes at him as she sips. She licks her lips slowly once she's swallowed, then laughs softly, her eyes shining as she watches for his reaction.

Malachai watches her carefully, almost intensely, as she sips from the mug after him. He reaches up to brush a jot of foam from the corner of her mouth and his head is starting to lean downward. Sulochana grins mischievously, her small pink tongue flicking out to tickle across the sensitive pad of his thumb as he touches her. He catches himself before he actually kisses her, but it's a visible effort. A little huskily she murmurs, "So, what shall we do next? Dance, make music, eat some food?" She can't help dimpling wickedly as she adds, "Something else?"

Malachai smiles, eyes gleaming, "Let's dance a set or two more. It's still early, after all."

Sulochana brightens at that, "All right!" as she excitedly grabs one of Malachai's hands and whirls for the dance floor. Dancing is something she adores! She flashes an inviting grin over her shoulder as she adds, "You can show me the steps if it's new to me, mmm?"

Malachai says, "Somehow, I think you will have no problem with the dancing..." Indeed, most of the dances seem to be forms of dances she's seen all across the country, with some folk dances thrown in that seem peculiar to Malachai's people. Sulochana's dancing with Malachai easily reveals her immense joie du vivre: she's laughing and lithe, bright-eyed and light-footed, clearly enchanted with the sensual pleasure of graceful movement both with her partner and within the group. Her midnight hair is a silky mane that trails over Malachai's wrists and swirls around his fingers as he slides his hands about her; her small, firm body sways gracefully in his arms; and she brushes unaffectedly against him as they dance. Her dusky milk-and-coffee skin is warm to Malachai's eager touch, and her scent rises heatedly to him with a heady cocktail of excitement, arousal and desire, joyous enthusiasm, and a tasty hint of honest sweat.

Every few songs, the musicians play some variation on the earlier "chase." Some of the chases have the couples choose their roles at the beginning and keep it throughout. Malachai seems willing to dance as much as 'Chana wants, and he urges her to dance in one of the predetermined chases with him as predator and her as prey. When he coaxes her into dancing that chase, 'Chana initially gives him a very amusedly raised eyebrow... but then throws herself with just as much focused concentration into being good 'prey' as she has in all the other dances. Indeed, in some ways she's almost too good at being prey: she somehow manages to throw Malachai glances full of both appeal as well as a near-intoxicating hint of nervous titillation at how dangerous her hunter is.

Malachai, when not having to switch off roles, is able to throw himself equally fully into the predator's role in the chase dance. For every spine-shivering glance of nerves and vulnerability she sends his way, he returns a look of frank hunger and confidence. He is not as good a dancer as Roy, but these particular dances let him go to a slightly different place in his mind -- and his lupine grace rises to the surface. The centenarian werewolf is very, very good at using his height and his bulk to present a dominant posture; to remind 'Chana in rather a delicious way of her own small stature. His body language is not that of a stronger wolf trying to cow a subordinate exactly, but it does convey the fact that he is alpha. His very presence demands submission, if not groveling. At the same time he moves in such a way that he would be between 'Chana and danger -- a sheltering dominance.

The Hetaera has seen the same sort of body language in leaders all across the continent. Roy has some of the same feeling abut him, though with a more insouciant swagger. Her appealingly vulnerable body language does not change, but internally she's faintly amused -- alphas! Can't live with 'em... can't manage a pack without 'em. She knows she can do the same body language herself; she also knows in a sense it's her own fault Malachai is effectively whipping that demeanor on her. He doesn't know all of what she is, after all -- and she did pretty much lead him into that behavior during the dance. Once that dance is concluded, however, she'll pant softly where she's held against Malachai's chest, coaxingly asking for a pause for another drink, please?

Malachai's eyes are bare rims of tawny gold around hugely dilated pupils, but he manages to says, "As you wish." He offers his arm, "What sort of a drink would you like?"

She grins relaxedly to herself, ducking smoothly under Malachai's arm and snuggling comfortably up against him as she murmurs, "Mmm... something cool and refreshing, please?" She glances up, then interestedly studies his eyes, "Ooh, your eyes are so pretty like this! What's it mean?"

Malachai laughs and the sound has just an edge of a growl to it, "It means that I've gotten my heart rate up higher than I expected. You are delectable when you dance and..." he leans close, lips almost brushing her ear, "I long to have your taste on my lips." He's leading her back to the stand with the non-alcoholic drinks, since they are a bit more refreshing than the mead and wine. The townsfolk have left a little room around the two of them without even thinking about it.

Sulochana turns her head as he leans toward her, and tilts her head back enough that her lips brush lightly against Malachai's. It's a gentle invitation; she does not want to embarrass him into a sudden and overwhelming burst of emotion, but if he's willing to decide to go there with her, then she's happy to let his heat flare up even more. Malachai's nostrils flare slightly as her lips brush over his and he presses a soft kiss against her mouth. It's warm but close-lipped and he murmurs, "I can control my change, but I don't know that I can control myself in other ways just now."

Sulochana's large golden-green eyes are half-lidded at the sensuous brush of warm lips, but even as she leans against Malachai she whispers carefully back, "Forgive me; I'm not sure what you mean, please? Should I stop?"

The alpha/elder murmurs, "It means that if I kiss you much more, I'll want to end the public part of the day right now."

Sulochana laughs softly in sudden rueful comprehension -- then closes her eyes and takes a slow, deep breath to pull herself together. To be fair, she's not aware of what a killer combination the thick sooty lashes on her warm-flushed cheeks are, above the soft, smooth, and swelling curves of the tops of her breasts... or how delicious her scent is just now. She's honestly just trying to clear her head a bit. Malachai stares down at 'Chana and then takes a half-step back himself, hands carefully at his sides. Sulochana sighs softly, then opens her eyes and smiles ruefully at Malachai, "All right -- just needed a moment there." She takes another breath -- this one more naturally -- then grins as she holds out a hand, "So... drink, maybe? Please?" More conversationally she adds, "So do you... play any instruments? What are your hobbies, if it isn't too forward of me to ask?"

Malachai relaxes fractionally and orders drinks for himself and 'Chana. He gets just ice water for himself, and 'Chana asks for the same. "Instruments? No. I sing a bit, since some of our prayers are sung or chanted. I honestly don't have much time for hobbies. My pleasure comes from teaching the young ones and from the time I get to spend roaming our territory."

Sulochana nods thoughtfully, accepting the water with smiling thanks. Hmm... 'safe' things to talk about... curiously she asks, "What do you teach the young? Hunting? Wait, wasn't it something religious?" The Hetaera blinks as she notices what's bobbing in the water, and she touches it gently with a fingertip, "Good heavens, ice?! Where did that come from?"

Malachai's eyes dance a bit, "It's kept very carefully in a couple of deep cellars. We harvest it if the winter gets cold enough to freeze the clean streams solid. We decided this was special enough to bring it out."

Sulochana blinks at that, then looks up at Malachai, her tilted, almond-shaped eyes shining, "Oh, how sweet! Thank you so much, Malachai -- that's incredibly generous of you." She beams as she adds, "The children will love it, I'm sure!" She rises up on tiptoe to give him an affectionate kiss on the cheek, and he tips his head to accept it, resisting the urge to turn his face toward her.

Malachai is not eager to be parted from 'Chana, but he doesn't stop her if she excuses herself at some point during the day. There is a noontime feast at tables that are set all down the middle of the main street of the town, and Malachai presides over it. Sulochana takes the moment of everyone moving to the lunch tables to excuse herself long enough to wander through her own folks and make sure they're all happy. She also surreptitiously passes the cute little wooden bunny to Fantine, with the whispered instruction to gift it to the girls if they're well behaved! After hugs with her people, she'll head back in Malachai's direction. If he seems at all so inclined, she's happy to sit next to him during the feast as well. He says grace, asking the blessing of Light on the food and the people -- both townsfolk and caravaneers. Some townies are also sure to take food to those staying back at the caravan's camp.

There's more food as the day begins to wane, but that meal is more casual. Malachai's people suspected he would be distracted or even gone by that time, so didn't plan on anything elaborate. Indeed, as the sky begins to purple with twilight, the elder/alpha offers his arm to 'Chana and asks, "Shall we retire?"

The Hetaera beams up at the town's alpha as she loops her arm into his, "Love to!" Malachai closes his eyes for a moment and takes a couple of deep breaths before starting to lead 'Chana up the hill toward his house. Around them people surreptitiously start to gather up dishes and such. The games have mostly shut down for the day and been packed away. There is still music going on, but it seems more of the impromptu variety -- 'Chana can hear what sounds like Sabrina's singing and Little Joe's guitar. 'Chana too is humming quietly along with the music, leaning comfortably against Malachai as they head for his house. She smiles and nods to any of the townies they pass on the way; she's in a very good mood right now!

Up on Malachai's porch there are a pair of the younger townies waiting. Both of them are wearing brightly colored and embroidered clothing and seem to have been waiting for a while. The young woman holds a heavy, loving cup-style chalice by both handles, while the young man holds a small golden plate with two dense little cakes on it. When Malachai and 'Chana reach them, the young man offers the plate to 'Chana first, saying, "May you never hunger."

Sulochana blinks, smiling uncertainly at the two young people and murmuring a reflexive, "Thank you." She glances inquiringly at Malachai as she slowly starts to reach for one of the little cakes. She's checking for some visual hint of the proper response -- is this right?

Malachai takes one of the cakes first and then gives her a slight nod when she reaches for the other. He takes only a bite, chewing and swallowing slowly before he puts the rest back on the plate. Sulochana tilts her head thoughtfully as she watches Malachai take his bite -- then she smiles and picks up the uneaten half of his little cake. Unless they stop her, she thinks sharing might be nice! She smiles winsomely up at Malachai as she murmurs, "Never hunger," before taking a small bite herself as well.

The gesture seems to please Malachai greatly, and the two townies smile as well. Behind them, some of the townsfolk have gathered together on the lawn and up the walkway. The caravaneers have been carefully redirected. Once 'Chana has followed Malachai's lead, the girl hands him the cup and says, "May you never thirst." The scent of the drink is sharp and herbal, with a vaguely sweet undertone. Malachai murmurs, "May the Light lay upon you," and takes a deep draught of the drink before offering it to 'Chana.

Sulochana watches alertly as Malachai drinks. When he offers the chalice to her, she carefully accepts it, using both hands since she's not sure how heavy it is. The sharp, slightly bitter tang of the drink's scent makes her wrinkle her small nose for an instant, but then she smiles and raises the big cup in a salute to Malachai, "Light and love." She hopes that's acceptable, as she internally braces to keep her face calm while taking a cautious sip of what may taste rather funky to her. She's not sure if she's supposed to take as big a drink as Malachai; unless they suggest that, she'll just wet her lips.

Malachai's face lights up at her benediction and he says in a tone that indicates this is somewhat ritualistic, "With this, I welcome you into my home and my heart. I offer my claws and teeth for your protection. May the Light of heaven bless you."

Sulochana starts to cautiously set the chalice down, relieved she doesn't have to drink more of this bitter concoction, and murmurs with equally courteous ritual, "May the Lady's blessings grace your life; may Her hand stretch over you in protection."

As 'Chana starts to set the cup down, Malachai puts his hand under it and lifts it back toward her mouth, murmuring, "You should finish it if you can." 'Chana manages not to sigh, instead nodding once. She takes a deep breath, then determinedly brings the chalice to her lips and drinks as much as she can. She's relieved when, after another gulp of air, she manages to do so without coughing. She puts the cup down carefully, but can't help the small grimace as she grins up at Malachai. Wow, that drink was bitter! She wonders what was in it, carefully not licking her lips.

Malachai smiles happily down at her and hands the chalice back to the girl. Whatever was in the drink is warming 'Chana's stomach despite the bitter taste, much like whiskey has done when she's drunk it with Rattler. The white-haired werewolf steps forward and opens the door to his house, moving inside and then inviting her to enter, "Welcome to my home." Inside, there's a large sitting room with many small stools and a sturdy, comfortable chair, along with two or three couches and other soft, low seating. Directly to their left is a staircase and Malachai offers his hand to lead her up it.

Sulochana looks around with interest, surprised at both the house's size and that it has two stories. She grins at Malachai and accepts his hand, padding quietly barefoot after him as she wonders: lots of people must hang out here ordinarily, maybe? The warmth from the drink is starting to spread out through 'Chana's body, and her head is feeling pleasantly fuzzy. The light seems somehow a little brighter. She blinks and carefully shakes her head once -- little bit of focus needed here! Whatever was in that drink might affect her, and she needs to be wary against it. She's reassured that Malachai drank quite a bit of it too, though. He's backing up the stairs, apparently quite familiar with them.

Sulochana trots lightly up the steps with Malachai, a mischievous grin on her lips -- she knows what this gait does for her decolletage! At sight of the next floor, however, she pauses and blinks in astonishment: the upstairs area consists of an open loft with an abundance of soft carpets and large cushions on the floors, and a bed whose square footage rivals the entire area of 'Chana's caravan. There are several large windows in the walls of the bedroom. They can be shuttered, but they currently are not. The sashes are raised, letting in the night air and the faint sounds of the celebration still going on down in the town. This is so not what 'Chana expected! She ooohs in soft appreciation, then laughs delightedly as she gives Malachai an impulsive hug, "What a lovely bedroom you have!" Before he can really react she releases, bouncing over to nearly pounce on the bed. She giggles as her skirts flare out dramatically around her, then rolls luxuriously and unselfconsciously on the bed, "Mmm!"

Malachai moves around the cushions on the floor and to the side of the bed, murmuring, "You honor me tonight." He sits on the edge of the bed and leans over to cup the back of her head with one hand, then kisses her. It's not in the least tentative, but it's not overly pushy, either. Confidence and need mix together to make it intense without being uncomfortable.

Sulochana leans happily into the kiss, relieved at how pleasantly the evening is going for everyone. She's also faintly surprised at how... well, welcoming all the townies appeared to be! Most large extended families have at least one or two folks who are worried the Hetaera will claim too much of their patriarch's attention, or that she'll want to stay -- and end up taking some of their inheritance. This group, though, has been nothing but smiles and cheerfulness. It's oddly nice! She rests one small hand on her partner's shoulder as she tries to slither carefully into Malachai's lap, if she can do so without breaking the kiss.

Out in the town, the caravaneers have all been gently encouraged to stay in the main celebration area, or to head back to their caravan. Rachel is one of the townsfolk who have stayed at the celebration; about half the townsfolk have slipped away, here and there. In the bedroom, Malachai shifts to let Sulochana insinuate herself into his lap as he's growling softly into the kiss. It's not a warning growl but rather a sound of enjoyment; a wordless signal of his pleasure. Now they're alone he's letting his hands wander a bit more; taking in the feel of her beneath the lovely clothes. The Hetaera's soft purr in contented reply is almost lost in his growl -- but her touches are not. Carefully placed so as to arouse and tingle, Sulochana's talented fingertips brush sensitive places on the bigger man. He can feel her lush lips turning up into a smile of pleasure as their kiss deepens and grows more breathless.

Malachai is not an accomplished lover. By comparison, Roy has been playing with courtiers for decades, while Bringer is hundreds of years old. But the town's elder is passionate and giving. His hands are callused, but he's gentle with them as he starts to peel away layers of 'Chana's clothing. His kisses are hungry and a little demanding, but not selfish. He uses his sense of smell more than a lot of men, nuzzling into 'Chana's hair and even beneath her arms and breasts, catching the scent of her.

The Hetaera has used her own internal scent as a natural perfume on several key places of her body. She'd guessed -- correctly, as it turns out -- that the shifter might both use his nose more than regular humans, and find the scent of her arousal to be a turn-on for himself as well. 'Chana also touches a great deal, stroking with hair, hands, and body against him, and using her smaller size as a means to wrap herself with distracting pleasure around her sweet but slightly staid lover. If he lets her, she'll also slip his jewelry and clothing off him, and she's careful to present herself for him to easily do the same to her. She laughs with soft breathlessness as he nuzzles hungrily against her, undoing his braids and running her fingers through his silvery hair. He reminds her in a charming way of Onca, and so she rubs herself relaxedly against him -- skin against skin the way she knows pack- and smell-oriented entities enjoy, so they're sharing each other's scent.

Malachai loosens up as he lets passion build. The drink that they shared is starting to work its way through 'Chana and she notices her own senses are heightened. Things are beginning to feel distinctly fuzzy around the edges, and sensations are feeling quite intense. When Malachai leans close she can smell him -- and not just the scents she's used to. She can smell hints of woodsmoke and sex and herbs, traces of things that might normally pass by unnoticed in her human form. When she runs her hands through his hair, she's aware of almost every single separate strand -- and hearing... she can hear Malachai's heartbeat, the shifts in his breathing... and the sounds of people outside the house.

The Hetaera draws a shuddery breath, her eyes closing as she throws back her head where she rests against Malachai... and then she simply inhales -- inhales harmonious scents, arousing sounds, tingling kinesthetics, seductive flavors. It feels overwhelming, and she shivers, clinging to Malachai for balance as she opens her tilted eyes. Her startled gaze shimmers a brilliant golden-green, where it's aimed directly into Malachai's, "Wh-what was in that drink, Malachai? I feel... feel like I'm drowning in sensation!" She shudders again, her body tingling with ecstatic arousal, and slithers around to wrap her legs about the larger man's waist, her arms about his neck. Softly she growls, "Make love to me, handsome man!"

Malachai's smile is knowing and hungry, "I don't know the recipe. It is used in the coming-of-age ceremonies. The one time that everyone, even those that are not of wolf-blood, are able to be the wolf for a night..." Even as he speaks he's moving, large hands shifting her body and lifting her against himself. Despite his age his body is still leanly muscled beneath his clothes. His lips are near her ear as he moves to join with her, sliding slowly into her, "Tonight you will see what it is to be one of us... that is my final gift." The words turn to a low growl and she feels and hears the spike in his pulse.

Sulochana laughs breathlessly again, internally a bit shaken -- what has he drugged her with? Two things keep her from lashing out in sudden, fierce panic, though. First, and most important: he drank as much (if not more) of the drink as she did -- therefore it cannot be poisonous, so she should be safe. Secondly, and nearly as critical to her: she is a professional. This man is her client, and she is one of the most renown Hetaerae in the entire continent. She will not be deterred from doing her job as magnificently as she can! Further, if there's a way for her to use this odd, sense-addling drink to perform even better, she shall definitely do so.

'Chana takes a deep breath, forcing calm and inner concentration -- and then slides with deliberately fierce sensuality into "reading" Malachai with all her senses as clearly and fully as she can. She's going to do her utmost to give him the night of his life! She discovers Malachai is not complicated, unlike many of her clients. He wants to be as close to her as possible, and to experience as much of her as he can. It's easy to read what caresses heat him up best and what sounds inflame him. The only pressure seems to be not to waste a moment of their time together.

During a break to catch their breath, Malachai rises from the bed and goes to a chest. He brings out a golden pelt and lays it across the foot of the bed. Sulochana is languidly sprawled across Malachai's bed in a fetching pose, but she'll roll smoothly over and slide down to join him. She smiles dreamily as she runs her fingers through the thick, rich fur, purring, "Oooh, lovely... feels delicious, Malachai. What species? Wolf, I'm guessing?"

Malachai nods and watches her stroke the pelt with half-lidded eyes and a languid smile. "Yes. From one of the earliest ancestors of the wolf-hearted among us. Sometimes we turn to humans after we pass into the Light, but she didn't." He touches the pelt almost reverently himself and then caresses along 'Chana's back and flank. The pelt smells of wolf and of many people's mingled scents. Outside, 'Chana can hear singing in a language she doesn't know but recognizes as being the one she's heard the townies speak. There are drums and the smell of a wood fire.

Sulochana coils neatly against Malachai, lying trustingly half across his lap as she smiles with lazy, sensuous invitation up at him. Her voice is a throaty purr by now, "This must be an ancient treasure of your people then, mmm? Do you keep all the pelts of the wolf-hearted? Did you know her?" By this point the Hetaera is mostly asking questions simply to help her partner feel good, to relax into the calm of beloved memory before more love-making. Her slow, languid stroking is almost reflexive, designed to help Malachai feel aroused and cherished.

Malachai is making throaty sounds of approval, "I did not... only two others that we know of did not return to human form when they died. Their pelts we kept as well. This one is a gift for you." He keeps one arm around her and lifts up the pelt, carefully positioning it so the head sits atop hers like a hood.

Sulochana raises an elegant eyebrow in slight surprise, shifting slightly so she is practically laying in his arm and he can easily move her around. She grins, tilting her head back a bit to peer mischievously up at the larger man, then leans to gently rub her head against his chest, "I can't take away a treasure like this, Malachai. But I'm happy to share it with you tonight." She sighs in soft pleasure as she runs her fingers through the lush fur again; she adores the sensuous delight of fur against bare skin!

Malachai simply smiles at her insistence that she can't take it away with her. He knows the secret of this pelt. Every child of the village, on reaching puberty, takes the draught and wears the pelt. They all shift. If they have the natural ability, the ritual wakens it in them. If not, they get to have one night of knowing what it is to be two-natured. Malachai pulls the forelegs of the pelt over the Hetaera's shoulders, and fastens it around her waist with strips of buttery leather that have been sewn in place. Then he carefully lifts her out of his lap and stands, offering his hand, "Come with me."

Sulochana is feeling almost liquidly sensual right now -- as if she were in her native Naga form but still had legs. She rises with boneless grace, ducking under his arm to press up against his side. As they walk she pads silently next to Malachai, glancing around and sniffing the richly sex-scented air with tingling pleasure. She purrs absently as they head down the stairs, and she runs one small hand in a smooth caress along his back as he leads her through the house. Malachai murmurs, "The moon is up. They'll be waiting for us." He doesn't mind a bit having her so close to him. Wolves are not shy about touch and he is more than half-wolf at the moment. He doesn't seem uncomfortable with his nudity or with hers, and he doesn't seem drunk -- mostly simply ecstatic.

Sulochana mmms in faint inquiry, not really sure what Malachai means; she's high enough right now that she's not thinking logically. Currently her input is all sensuous and intuitive, and she's enjoying the delicious touches of thick fur brushing against the back of her legs, as well as the strong, warm body pressing her close. Malachai leads her through the house and out the back door into a yard she has not seen before. In the center, in what looks to be a well-established ring, is a huge bonfire. Around it is what seems to be everyone in the town over the age of twelve. They were singing a moment ago, but now they are silent; all eyes are on the Hetaera and the alpha.

Sulochana looks around with dreamy pleasure, not really registering physical reality so much as sensuously lost in appreciation of this moon-lit moment. She rubs languidly against Malachai's side as she purrs, "Oh, that's sweet that everyone undressed as well!" She's smiling, still half-drugged -- just like Malachai -- as she notices the neatly folded piles of clothing next to or behind everyone. She's not really capable right now of logical thought about what's going on.

Malachai laughs, and so do several of the townsfolk. "We aren't shy of our bodies under the correct circumstances." He leads her toward a pile of what smells and feels like rabbit and fox skins near the fire, then urges her down onto her knees. As he does, he speaks to the townsfolk in the musical and foreign tongue they all seem to share. There are happy shouts of laughter and even a few howls as people throw back their heads.

Sulochana flows down onto the skins, laughing softly as she stretches out and rubs herself unashamedly against the soft, lush fur. She rolls over and smiles with heated invitation up at Malachai; she's already unwittingly started tuning out the surrounding townsfolk. Why isn't her partner down here with her? She bets she can tease him enough that he can't resist her! Malachai's eyes are back to being bare rims of gold around huge pupils, even with the leaping light of the fire. He lowers himself to his knees and rests a hand on 'Chana's chest between her breasts before kissing her again, heated and urgent. Then he starts to guide her over onto her hands and knees.

Sulochana's movements are no longer deliberate or pre-considered. The drink has unleashed her usual self-restraint, and Malachai can see her baring the fiery core of passion that flames within her like a hidden bonfire. Now her desire flares forth in hungry sensuality. Her movements are fluid, like heat incarnate, as she uses all her wiles and training and beautiful body to inflame her partner into meeting her with similar lack of restraint. She rolls easily onto her hands and knees, glancing with coquettish invitation over her shoulder and slowly swaying her hips. Her desire inflames his hunger; his hunger feeds her.

It doesn't take much to enflame Malachai, as he's been simply waiting for moon-rise -- that moment has now come. He joins her on the bed of fur and slides his hands over her shoulders and back, then around her waist until they can rest on her hips. He shifts forward, pulling her back to meet him as he mates with her again, here with his pack. The tail of the pelt that's tied onto her shifts and brushes against the backs of her thighs and the fronts of his. There is no restraint in him now; every careful control is dropped. He knows what is going to happen and welcomes it. Sulochana too is falling deeply into instinct, and her lineage is predatory. She laughs in soft triumph as her panting, eager partner can no longer restrain himself, then growls and hungrily grinds her hips against him. Her senses are spilling over with blazing heat, fierce passion, and an overwhelming hunger.

Malachai is murmuring and crooning to her in the native tongue of the townsfolk and thrusting with eager abandon into her. He leans over her back until his hands can rest on the furs beneath them, his belly and chest pressing to her back as they rise toward a mutual release. He's in the grip of the ritual and the drug as well and the shift begins almost seamlessly. As the moon rides high, it shines off fur and skin and 'Chana can feel her body becoming other. The small woman is nearly wild with passion and drugged abandon. As a shapeshifter for decades -- for most of her life -- the sensation of change is weirdly different, but also neither startling nor unwelcome. She tosses her head back in seething release with Malachai, and her ecstatic cry flows as seamlessly into a smoothly rising howl as her body flows easily into another shape.

The shift is faster for her than it is for Malachai. The pelt pushes it, and 'Chana's own native ability is for a very quick change. The shift of the alpha and his mate pulls the other wolf-natured amongst the townies along with them. Here and there, people drop to their sides or to all fours as their bodies transform.

Sulochana straightens up, briskly shaking her pelt into place, then glances over her shoulder at the still shifting Malachai. Huh... wolves must take a long time to change. No worries; she'll introduce herself to the rest of her new pack, and keep everyone safe, while the wolf-hearted take their time. She strides around the ring with relaxed confidence, pausing before all the human-formed pack members so they can nuzzle and stroke their alpha, as is her rightful due. Those that can touch her, do -- and the humans reach out to offer their hands palm up to her. There is awe on their faces. She is larger than the largest of the natural wolves. They expected the tiny human to be a small wolf.

The new alpha wolf bitch doesn't realize just how huge she is -- she's simply accepting the submissions of her pack, resting her chin gently on those bold or eager enough to nuzzle up to her. Her size is due to her native form -- a Naga -- and due to the induced nature of this change, whereby she conserved mass; currently she would tip the scales at a massive (for a wolf) 200 to 250 pounds. Her sleekly shining, thick fur is as black as midnight, while dark-reddish stripes gleam as highlighted streaks in the dancing firelight. Her eyes are still golden, but when she swings her head around to check the perimeter they flare a dangerous, warning scarlet.

'Chana is also still somewhat under the influence of the shared, drugged drink -- the one that was supposed to help her shift, but has instead pulled her predatory instincts strongly to the fore. By the time all the wolves have finished shifting and gotten to their feet, 'Chana-wolf has already paced smoothly around the circle, accepting (as her rightful due as alpha) the wondering caresses and nuzzles of the human-form pack members. The wolves too all hastily acknowledge her with lowered heads and flattened tails, whining politely as they crouch and lick her chin. The townsfolk don't seem frightened, just awed. The wolves likewise accept her. Even if it weren't for her greater size, their alpha has chosen her as his mate, and that would raise her status amongst them.

By the time she's made the circuit, the large and handsome silver wolf is watching, tongue lolling out in satisfaction. She will be a wonderful mate. He is shocked at just how large she is, but the dark color he expected from the shade of her hair. The fact that she is already well-shifted by the time he is able to pull himself back to his feet is also shocking, but he takes it as another proof of her suitability.

'Chana-wolf notices only that all her pack is present and able to move now, so she raises her head and gives a long, low howl, calling the pack to hunt. She's pleased when everyone instantly and excitedly chimes in with her! A few heartbeats for them all to sing together -- then she grins fiercely and springs away into the darkness, to draw everyone laughing and barking and darting along after her, heading up the mountain to hunt. Malachai is fascinated with the size and loveliness of 'Chana in wolf form. He has certainly chosen a glorious wolf-bitch to be the alpha female to his pack. When she lopes off, leading the pack to hunt, he moves to catch up to her. It's good that she knows her place, but he cannot let her usurp his. Even the humans are laughing and howling with them, moving up the mountain to hunt. Only a handful stay behind to watch after the children and make sure the caravaneers don't snoop where they oughtn't.

'Chana-wolf grins at the excited young wolves who dart ahead of her, turning to pant and bow in delighted invitation to her, to come play. She has a pack to feed, though, so she keeps to her steady, purposeful trot, instead commanding them to bound on ahead and locate a fine fat deer for them to hunt! The wolf-hearted can drive the prey back towards the human-formed, so all may share in the bounty. She gently bumps a companionable shoulder against the smaller silvery wolf when he catches up to her. Malachai bumps against her in return, and licks her muzzle. The hunt is going to be truly glorious.

The townsfolk have done this before and 'Chana's instincts on how it works are very good; wolves work well together in a hunt. They chase down not one but two fine bucks to share together. None of them are really very hungry, having feasted earlier, but this is a bonding hunt. The wolf-shaped are playful and happy -- it has been far too long since they had an alpha bitch in the pack. Malachai's mate died years back, after all.

Malachai himself is indulgent with his mate, but not to the point of showing submission -- despite her size and magnificence. 'Chana-wolf is a dominant personality anyway, so Malachai's behavior doesn't really register to her -- she's more interested in making sure the wolf-hearted (who rank higher in the pack than the human-formed) don't swipe all the best bits of their downed prey. She may currently be in a wolf shape, but her protective Naga and feline instincts are strongest right now; she doesn't want submission so much as good behavior from all concerned.

It's well into the night before people begin drifting off back to their homes. The humans are the first to go and 'Chana eventually finds herself with just the wolves. She nuzzles the last departing human-form, laughing softly with lolling tongue as the young man hugs her impulsively before scampering off towards town after the rest of his companions. After that she settles relaxedly down by the remains of their kill, taking a moment to lick her paws and chops clean. She idly eyes the other wolves, wondering what they do after a hunt. Most of the wolves are also lolling about, flopped around in heaps of lupine bodies and cleaning one another's muzzles and paws. Malachai is walking around the circle of them, counting by scent and touch.

'Chana-wolf is faintly amused internally as she realizes she counts more easily than the silver wolf. No worries; she cleans herself up while he reassures himself. When a young wolf sneaks over to curl up against her she succumbs to her tiger instincts and leans over him to give him a few quick, tidying licks as well. He's surprised and a bit nervous, rolling over onto his back for her. Usually dominant wolves don't do that sort of thing -- it's the more subordinate wolves (staying carefully lower than the dominant) who groom for appeasement! Malachai notices the grooming and comes over, nudging the young wolf with his muzzle. It's almost a reprimand, but a gentle one. He assumes 'Chana would not know what the gesture meant.

'Chana-wolf pauses, glancing curiously at Malachai. She's not sure why he's reproving the other wolf, since the young one showed immediate submission, but no one's snapping and snarling so she's unworried. She goes back to finishing cleaning up, then glances around. She's fed, she's warm and dry, she's content... time to sleep. Her instincts remind her of her little wagon, but after glancing around at the group of ten wolves she simply shakes her head -- nowhere enough room for them! She hmms, then remembers Malachai's lovely, large bedroom. Capital idea! She gives a soft, crooning call to alert everyone to move, then turns and starts heading down the hillside. She glances over her shoulder to spot Malachai, her tongue lolling -- she thinks curling up with the littler silver wolf would be quite pleasant right now! They're both still strongly scented of each other after that passionate mating, after all.

Malachai shoulder-bumps 'Chana and they all move away from the remains of the kills, heading for Malachai's house. The back door is open and there are a couple of townies in the kitchen as the wolves trot through. It's apparently not an unusual thing for them and the wolves greet the humans with head-bumps and lolling tongues. Malachai and 'Chana take the lead, moving upstairs to the big bedroom. There are a few of the human pack members there already, curled up together in what can only really be called a puppy pile around the foot of the bed. Malachai jumps easily up on the rumpled, sex-smelling bed and flops down contentedly, waiting on his mate.

'Chana-wolf takes a moment to sniff the air on both floors, making sure everyone is happy and relaxed -- both wolf-hearted and human-form. Once she's reassured she paces with careful deliberation up onto the bed; she doesn't want to either squish anyone or break anything, and she's used to ordinarily weighing over a ton. She turns around three times, then settles with tidy grace, unwittingly taking up an entire section of the bed due to her size. She glances around to see who wants to cuddle up before she shifts position again, since her instincts remind her: things smaller than her are usually fragile!

Malachai cuddles up against her and the rest of the wolves slowly join them until there is a happy pile of fur on the bed -- which explains its size. 'Chana-wolf visually checks her pack -- all good -- then rests her head on her large, jet-black paws. As her golden eyes close she gives a small, contented snort-sniff... then drifts off to sleep. All is well.

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Last modified: 2010-Aug-28 20:29:49

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