Where the Wild One Roams

Hlina woke up the next morning to harpies and avian singing in the distance. Those were always beautiful songs. Enchanting in a way that made her want to listen, and often had her feet moving her towards their song before she knew it. It was even more so to men especially, her mother had said. She didn't understand it, but she accepted it.

It was nice having a blanket again. It had been a long time since she slept with anything but her and her mother's hair to cover them as they clung to each other for warmth during the night. Winter has been especially hard to endure.

Standing up, she wrapped the blanket around her body, under her arms, and twisted the corner end into the fabric beneath her armpit. It would be nice to wear clothing again too. She hadn't worn clothing for ten years now, not since she was human in her previous life, or whatever she should call it. Her consciousness being ripped out of her body and transferred to another world and into a man's seed to impregnate her mother and then to being born again.

It was odd though, she looked forward to wearing clothing again, but she also was used to not wearing clothes as well. She had survived all these years without a stitch of clothing. It was certainly a nice commodity to have, but she knew from experience that she didn't need it. She was secure and confident in herself, and in her own skin. Still, it was nice to wear something besides her own skin… from time to time.

Walking back to the camp of her mother's murderers, she found them still laying where they died. In the light of day, with her initial anger subsided, the shock of what she had done hit her. She stared at the two men still in their tents, and the last in the middle of the camp. She hadn't ever killed before. Ever! And now she has killed three men!

Blood stained the ground where their lives drained out of them. The earth was thirsty, and it drunk up everything leaving only a scarlet stain as a memory of what had transpired. A memory that she must live with now!

Stumbling to a tree she puked loudly…

When she was done, she wiped her mouth, and then searched the camp for a canteen. She found three. Washing her mouth out, she gargled, and then spit. Investigating further revealed three traveling packs. Pulling them to the center of the camp she upended them spilling their contents onto the ground and began rummaging through it all. Her father had been a hunter before he died, her first father from her other life. Robert Daniel Reas loved the outdoors, and he had taken his wife and daughter on many camping and hunting trips. He had often said that they may live in the Nuclear Age but should the worst happen and the Commies decided to start World War III, then it would be good to know how to survive by hunting and fishing in the wild, that is, if anyone survived. Her mother had just smiled and nodded, but Helena didn't care what the excuse was as long as she got to go camping and hunting too!

Looking through the items that looked so similar to what she knew from her previous life, she started packing it all away again, this time all of it in a single pack. Once the pack was full and all the items were secured, she lifted the it to her slim ten year old shoulders and walked back to the tree she spent the night sleeping under and slipped it off. It was heavy, but she would be able to hike it back to her cave without much trouble.

Returning to the camp she set the two empty packs across a log, rolled up next the fire pit the day before, then turned her attention to the tents. Two tents were made of green dyed leather laid over and tied to well made, triangular, wooden frames. The third tent, Jannics tent, was made of thick canvas tied to a wooden frame on the outside unlike the others. They were simple. Rudimentary. Easily assembled and just as easily disassembled and packed away. Untying ropes holding leather or canvas to frames, she dismantled them. Pulling back the oiled, green leather revealed two dead men. She didn't even know their names, and yet, she had killed them while they slept. Murderers and rapists, they deserved what they got!

Approaching them hesitantly at first, not wanting to touch them, she made a quick albeit thorough search of their pockets. A few minutes later she looked down at her hands. Three dirty handkerchiefs, six gold coins, three pocket knives, two silver lighters, and three keys. To what, she couldn't imagine. Maybe they were house keys like she had possessed in her former life. That was all that they had on their persons.

Examining their clothes more closely, they wore dark-brown pants with green, blue, and pale cream shirts, and thick leather belts. All three shirts were ruined and blood stained. Their pants were in good condition but she hesitated to take them. All three men had well made brown leather boots. Two pairs were knee high pull-ons, and the third pair were lace up thigh-highs. They were all too big for her now, but she might grow into the knee-high boots and the thigh-highs later on. Both mens feet they had come from were rather short and lithe with small feet. Only Jannic had been a bear of a man standing what she thought might be well over six feet tall and with a weight close to two-hundred and fifty pounds.

It was a good thing she had surprised him and stabbed him right off. Otherwise, he would have overpowered her easily, and her fate would probably have been her mothers, minus the killing. At least, until he grew bored of raping her.

She decided that their pants would have been good to have, especially the smaller men's pants that she would grow into in the next few seasons. She hadn't worn pants, or any clothing since birth and part of her craved the caress of clothing, but then, she didn't want their pants enough to try getting them off of them. Instead she pulled their belts out of their belt loops. One belt had a square silver buckle with a large turquoise set in the center, and the other an oval buckle with gold rope work and a large cat's-eye stone set in the center, and Jannic's was buckle was set with sapphires and etched with Celtic rope work and runes. After the belts, she moved down and pulled off their boots.

She gathered up three cloaks and sword belts, and then matched swords to scabbards after cleaning the blood off of the two she used to kill the men. After the swords there were three daggers, three strange pistols, the skinning and gutting knife she killed the first man with, and a hatchet.

Of the leather tent covers she rolled up, one was ruined as a whole, but she was sure she could make use of it somehow. Of the blankets, one was wrapped around her body, the other two were still beneath two dead men. Those might be ruined by blood, but they might be recoverable if she washed them well enough.

Taking the tent rolls and the items she had taken from the bodies, she returned to the traveling packs and loaded it all inside before tying the frames to the bottom. Looking up at the small chipmunk, that had been only four feet tall or so when alive, still hanging from the tree. She contemplated her belly and the gnawing pain of hunger she felt. She hadn't eaten since early the day before. She had been so grief stricken by her mother's murder and enraged she hadn't so much as noticed her hunger, and then after killing those murderers she had been too exhausted physically and emotionally. Now, she felt like she might swoon if she didn't eat soon.

If cooked and salted properly, that chipmunk would feed her for a long time. With a sigh, she lifted the second pack up onto her shoulders and took it out to where she hid the first.

Once she returned, her gaze fell on the smoldering coals that littered the fire pit. Using the hatchet, she left and gathered enough wood to keep the fire burning almost all day, and then she rekindled the fire. She let it burn high and hot and build a good bed of coals. In the meantime she pulled what remained of the thigh and lower leg off the spit before slicing off chunks of meat. Without thinking of how human that chipmunk appeared, she set to eating with a purpose. Soon she felt full, and with it her strength returning.

Next, she started the grim task of dismantling the chipmunk carcass appropriately. This was not something Alvas taught her. This she remembered from her previous life. Of her father taking her hunting. Of her first kill. A small doe, and of her father standing back and watching her as she field-dressed the small animal. Disgusted, she glared at Jannic, no doubt these good for nothing men would have left the rest of the poor Animal to just hang there and rot, wasting her death… her sacrifice, for a single meal.

She puked when she cut the chipmunks head from her neck, and puked again when she found furry hide with entrails on top, and then gagged as she cut off the hands. She had nothing left to puke up. It was just as well. She tried to remove anything… everything… that made the chipmunk appear humanoid, and then she took it out and buried it all beneath a tree. Lowering her head over the grave, she gave thanks for the food the little chipmunk was providing, and then returned to her work.

She tried to not think of the carcass she was butchering as having once been a sentient, loving, caring person. Or, so she thought. So she imagined. She hadn't ever seen or met a living Animal when she was a baby. It made what she had to do now a little easier. But the fact that it was humanoid made her imagination run wild with possibilities.

Neck and shoulders first. Next, pectoral muscles and shoulder blades. Everything that connected the arms to the body. Lower arms and upper arms, cut away at the elbow and then at the shoulder. In her mind they were hock and trotters, or really big chicken wings. Add salt, skewer the meat, set on the fire, and wait. She had to use the hatchet to hack ribs from spine and sternum. Two full racks. They weren't humanoid at all!

The belly, tenderloin, loin, and fat back were next. It was an animal. Just another animal! Why couldn't she stop crying?

Even with one leg missing she couldn't look at the pelvis and the remaining leg and buttock and not know what she was cutting up. Running to a tree she threw up. When she returned, she felt numb as she cut through the thick layers of muscle that had made a small shapely chipmunk woman's buttocks. She couldn't deceive herself into thinking of it as a ham. With grim determination she finished. Tenderly she walked the meat over to lay on a blanket beside various other parts awaiting cooking.

When she returned, she cut through the tendons until the pelvis fell to the ground. She was almost done, she growled to herself as a mantra. The thigh came away from the rest of the leg at the knee, and then the last bit of the lower leg was severed from the foot. If she never had to do this again she would be happy!

It was almost dark by the time she was done cooking all the meat. The whole day had passed by, and she ached to return home. To return to her mother. Not that she was looking forward to burying her, but it needed to be done. Her mother deserved better from life than what she got. The least she could do was bury her properly. The only reason she hadn't was because at first she was in a fury and she didn't want the killers to escape, and after seeing the little chipmunk she knew Alvas would have been ashamed of her if she left the poor Animal to rot. If she didn't hold to the values her mother taught her, then the chipmunk's death wouldn't be the only death that would not have served a purpose.

She thought for a while about how to pack and carry the meat back to her cave. Finally she decided to use one of the oiled cloaks, Jannic's she thought it was, to line the traveler's pack before loading the meat into it. Once done she looked around the camp and began tidying up. By the time the fire burned down to ash the camp was clean except for three dead men, one with the pelvis of a chipmunk on his chest.

Looking down at herself, she shook her head. Having the blanket wrapped around her body had reminded her of the feeling of clothes and the security they imparted, whether real or an illusion. However, she took it off when she started butchering, and now she was covered in blood smeared across her body, and mixed with ash. She wouldn't put the blanket back on until she bathed. So naked and tired from a hard day's work, she pulled the pack up onto her shoulders and set out for a small cave she thought of as home.

It was the better part of a day's journey back the way she had come and now she must make the trek in the dark. She would make it home. She would. She had to!

In a few days, after she buried her mother, she would be back for everything she salvaged from these murderers. She was alone now. She would have to do whatever she had to, to survive. She had to!

All she has now was a faint glimmering hope of one day finding Daniel…

——(!)——

"Mama," Hlina said as she knelt in front of a large rock propped upright under a large tree.

On its flat surface was written with her own finger, in the only language she knew how to write, English. It read: Alvas. Beloved mother. Gave up everything to save her daughter, then later gave her life to save her again by not calling out while being raped and murdered.

"Mama, I'm sorry. It's been six years since you were taken from me," She sobbed, tears pouring down her face to her chin where they fell to her thick dark-brown thighs, "I can't take the loneliness anymore! I'm leaving this place, I'm sorry! I'm going to try to find somebody, anybody… I love you mama… I will come back and visit, I promise!"

Hlina stood up from sitting on her haunches and wiped her tears from her face and thighs. A silver waist chain shifted on her wrist. It had been her mother's. A symbol for any of her people who saw her that she had been a mother. Now, it was her only connection to Alvas.

She was sixteen now. With no calendar she was reduced to tracking seasons and moons. This was the fourteenth spring since her mother found this cave. She had grown a lot in the last six years. Her black hair was still almost long enough to touch the ground, and did any time she crouched, knelt, or sat. She was always pulling straw or small twigs out of it. When she stood her long curly locks nearly reached her ankles. It was a full time job keeping it from being a completely tangled mess, but was still her best and most consistent clothing, and it was warm.

She stood taller than her mother had been now. She thought a full head taller, but she couldn't be sure. Aside from her height, her black hair, and eyes that gleamed like polished bronzite, she looked very much like her mother with a small wide nose, an overly plump almost too wide mouth, a sharp angular jaw that ended in a small pointed chin, and long alfari ears that stuck out over her shoulders and twitched to track the sounds of the forest and drooped or rose with her moods. She had a long delicate neck, her mother slim shoulders, slight chest, breasts that had never really developed much to Hlina's chagrin, and a long waist that seemed impossibly slim when compared to her hips and buttocks.

She felt like she was the amalgamation of two different people. Her top-half long and willowy while her bottom-half was thick and curvy. Her hips were much broader than her shoulders. Much! While her ass was so thick and round she found herself always brushing against things. Trees, rocks, and such. Inside her cave she was always knocking things over. She seemed to always overcompensate or undercompensate for how wide her hips were.

She just hated how it seemed that her ass was so large!

Not that it was fat, she didn't have an ounce of fat on her body. Being perpetually on the cusp of starvation did that!

Below her gargantuan hips and ass, her thighs were also thick, as well as her calves and ankles. She liked her feet though. They were small and square with high arches with short stubby toes. Her legs also redeemed her ass and hips to some extent. Although thick they had very elegant curves, from her crotch and hip to knee, and from knee to calf to ankle, and they were so long. Thank god!

It had lent to becoming a very fast runner, which she grudgingly admitted was because she had no breasts. She remembered trying to run in her previous life. She had been as fast as the wind, all the way up until she turned fourteen and her breasts finally became too large to run with. By fifteen she wouldn't run anymore unless she absolutely had to. No girl should have to contend with double-D's and F-cup breasts at fifteen. Now with not much more than A's she found she missed having larger breasts. Not that she wanted double-D's, but nice B's or C's would have been welcome.

Brushing pine needles and dirt almost as dark as her skin from her knees, she righted a small leather wrap she had made from tent hides. Pushing it down to cover hips and bum correctly, she fiddled with the wooden toggle to make sure it was secure.

It had been tricky, learning how to make clothing. She had ruined half of a seven-by-ten foot long roll of leather hide trying to make panties, bra, and dress. She gave up on it until the following winter came, and then she really became ingenuitive. Using a blanket, the second leather hide, and the skinning knife, she cut insulated wrappings for her arms and legs, and leather sleeves and chaps. The sleeves were all cut from one piece of leather. The chaps came up to her hips and she used a belt to hold them up. Down her arms and legs wooden toggles fastened the leather together keeping her arms and legs warm.

Once she had use of toggles and down to a science, making sure her cuts in the leather were small but just large enough to interlock and fit a toggle through, then she took a second blanket she cut in half and used the rest of her one good roll of leather and made an insulated leather skirt that fell to her calves. It rode on her hips and was held together by toggles. One on the hip and three more all the way down her knees. Of what remained of the blanket she made a poncho from and then did the same with what remained of the leather, and then used a second belt to buckle it snuggly around her ribs. To keep her feet from freezing in the winter snows, she used the three men's socks and boots.

For the next six years that was how she kept from freezing. She liked wearing clothing again, but as soon as it was warm enough to go naked she did so. Her fear was that she would wear them out if she wore it all year round. However, in the end she grew out of most of it well before it was ever close to worn out. It created a new challenge for her in the coming years. How to repurpose what was too small?

Sleeves were turned into bras, and the chaps were turned into a girdle to keep her core warm and short hip wraps to cover her bum in the summer. The poncho was still usable, and the skirt needed modifications as her hips and butt grew bigger and wider. By the end of her growth her feet grew into the thigh-high boots, she still had one of the cloaks, and she was left with only one blanket to sleep under and wrap around herself during the frigidly harsh winters.

Besides her issues with clothing and staying warm, after six years her hatchet was dull, the swords were useless, and the daggers, well, they made her feel safe even if she hadn't ever seen another living soul after killing those men. Still, the swords might be able to be sold, and the hatchet sharpened.

It was late spring now, plenty warm enough that her only clothing was the leather wrap around her hips and her mothers waist chain wrapped around her wrist. Her clothing was rolled up in tight rolls deep in her cave along with boots and cloak. She carried in her pack only what she needed for starting fire and cooking roots and vegetables. She had no idea how long she would be gone, but if she didn't find anyone by midsummer she would return.

For all her life she and Alvas had harvested roots and stored them for winter, when Alvas died it became just her. Now, with her leaving none of the winter preparation would happen. If she came back, it would be to die near her mother. There would be no way she would survive until spring.

Pulling her pack up onto her shoulders, she took hold of a walking staff leaning against the tree. Turning back to her mother's grave, she gave it a final somber glance and then left…

——(!)——

"Hlina…"

"Earth daughter…"

Hlina sat up out of a sound sleep with a start. Someone had been calling her name again. The voice started periodically calling her sometime after her twelfth summer. It was only a whisper she heard just before waking, but it was getting stronger of late. She could swear she heard the voice tinkling like chimes caught up in the wind as it blew through her hair. Sometimes when she was bathing the water seemed to laugh and giggle. When she watched the fire, and she lost herself in the blue, red, and yellow flames the voice almost sang to her in a harmony that promised of warmth and power. But it was when she laid out on the ground to sleep that she heard the voice the loudest. It's call left a sense of warm invitation, a promise of safety and protection.

Sitting up, she yawned as the fog of sleep left her mind, and as she stretched the voice slipped from her thoughts. It had taken months to finally find a community. She had almost despaired and returned to her cave and her mother.

People!

She had finally found other people!

The thought excited and terrified her. She remembered people in her previous life. Her dad, mom, work mates. She was close to her father and mother of course, and Daniel's father up until he took off when he found out she was pregnant with Daniel. However, she never had many close friends or workmates. She had been a young mother, and then had to work hard to support herself and Daniel. There just simply was no time for friendships. As soon as she was off work she had to be home, to relieve the sitter, cook, clean, help Daniel with homework, then hangout and maybe watch a little television or a movie before bed.

The thought of Daniel immediately caused her heart to ache, but it was a dull ache now. She had come to this world to find him, however her life had not been easy and it had been years. This world was harsh, and there wasn't any guarantee that he was alive!

Right now, she must take care of herself. Especially if she was ever going to find her son.

Rummaging through her pack, she pulled out a root and took a bite as she looked about her camp. Rolling up the blanket, she dismantled the tent, and shoved everything into the pack. Looking at her clothing, a leather bra, and short skirt, she gathered them up and shoved them into the pack as well, then she hid everything under the tree and covered it all over with straw. Once everything was secured she touched her mother's chain that was now wrapped around her neck like a necklace. In order to be as stealthy as possible she took it off her wrist where every swing of her arm made the chain slink up and down her arm with a slight clinking sound, but she worried that sharper ears might hear it. Of course she worried that those same sharp ears could hear her heart thudding in her chest.

It was a five mile jog from her camp, in only her skin and hair, to the village she had nearly stumbled into five days ago. As she approached she watched her footing more and more. A limb under her barefoot would puncture and tear the soles of her feet, and in all probability elicit a yelp as well, and it would also leave a bloody trace and scent trail wherever she went. That was not even mentioning the snap of the limb would in all probability give away her position like an alarm gong.

Rocks were dangerous too, for many of the same reasons. She had stubbed many a toe, and that would cause her to cry out and leave her limping for weeks depending on whether she broke any toes. For the most part she tried to stay on soft dirt or on the carpet of pine needles that littered the forest floor. Pine needles over dirt was the most preferred because she wouldn't leave footprints though a good tracker would still be able to find the traces of her passage.

Once she was within a mile of the village she darted from tree to tree, silent as a shadow. When she was only a few feet from the edge of the village she hunkered down under a bush and watched the people go about their daily chores. The men folk split wood, mended fences, and worked on butchering their kills. There were three rabbits, one a sensually curvy female, or she had been, the other two were males. There was a female badger with a white marked face, a black underbelly and legs, and grayish hair and back with a long white streak that ran from crown to tail tip. The last two Animals she saw were a female deer-centaur-like creature and a fawn, probably hers. They would feed the village for weeks.

Another group of men went about more trade oriented tasks. The blacksmith and tanner were the most prominent. Men sharpened knives. Others trained with various melee weapons. There were a few that practiced shooting with bows and arrows, but the majority were young girls and women.

Not to say that there weren't women training in melee combat arts as well, but the majority of them, about two thirds, went about the village performing more domestic tasks while the remaining third was split with two thirds training in archery and the remaining third trained in martial arts and weapons combat.

She saw children too. Happy and laughing, they ran around a central green, rolling around and playing. Older children ran errands for adults, and the young adults Hlina thought might be about her age were already learning from their parents how to hunt, how to build, how to maintain, and how to make a home and community. It was beautiful!

The only thing that threw off the whole atmosphere was that the entire village was a pack of wolves. They had to be! Besides being humanoid, they were covered in fur ranging in colors from white to black. Some of the women folk went about their tasks as naked as she herself was with the exception that she didn't have fur, not even body hair. As pine needles poked into her skin from her breasts to belly, and her lower belly between her thighs, she was reminded of just how hairless her body was.

Other wolf-women folk wore aprons, bras, or loincloths. Or, they might even wear a combination of just one or all three items. The men folk wore loincloths mostly though some wore pants that ended just below their knees and were tied at the waist with rope that wrapped around the waist above long fluffy tails. Depending on tradecraft some also wore leather aprons or flexible leather girdles wrapped around midriffs but left the chest and shoulders bare.

One such older male was making his usual walk around the village. He had silver hair that fell down his back. His body was covered with short fine silver fur on his face, chest, and belly while the fur covering his arms, legs, and back was much longer. He was slim in the waist, long of leg, broad of shoulder, and his arms were thickly muscled.

The alpha, it was the only description she could define this man as, carried himself with confidence and authority. She thought he must be the leader or chieftain of this pack or village. Maybe their rank within this village was similar to how wolves ranked themselves as she knew them from her earth. With an alpha and an omega and everyone falling somewhere in between.

He was older than her, she could see that much, at least twice as old as she was. Maybe her mothers age. That didn't bother her in the least, in her mind she was still the forty-four year old woman who raised Daniel for twenty-three years then if she added sixteen more years in this life in this world and she was a sixty year old woman in a sixteen year old body. A sixteen year old body flooded with estrogen and a libido that was hot and eager to eat up the first man, or men, she decided was worthy of her. Then there was the fact that the last time she had a man between her thighs was well before she found out she was pregnant with Daniel. Forty years of abstinence was making her ravenously wolfish!

She found herself drawn to watching him move about the village more than the rest. He walked on the balls of his feet. Feet that appeared to be thick furry wolf's paws and she wondered what it must feel like to walk and run like that all the time. He was one of the few that wore buff colored pants that ended just below the calves of his hybrid legs. She found herself idly wondering what he was hiding inside them. Most of the other males wore only loincloths and it was very quickly apparent that their genitalia were covered in thick fur and the muscular organ that she wanted to feel between her thighs and deep inside was covered by a thick furry foreskin she had never paid enough attention to biology class to know or remember the name of. Those other males didn't interest her. This male though. He made her mouth water, and her belly warm…

Her eyes moved upward to a strong flat belly girded with a red dyed woven leather girdle just above his hips and climbed up his muscular frame binding his core and ribs all the way up to just under thick pectoral muscles. Hlina found herself drooling, and wiped her cheek and chin.

Across his shoulders, down his back, and falling down over his pectorals hung an intricately woven American-Indian styled breastplate of bone and gems. Small white bones that were hollowed out of their marrow. Citrine. Turquoise. Red coral. Emerald. It was beautiful… like he was.

The long fluffy tail wagged behind him poking out of a hole in the back of his britches where they were made to curve around the tail and gather with the drawstring at the waist. His tail itself was long and silver with just a hint of white on the tip and wagged back and forth gently with every step he took, helping him balance on the balls of his feet.

"Well! For how much longer are you going to watch us?" A gruff voice growled as Hlina felt a hand grab her ankle and drag her roughly out from under the bushes.

Hlina shrieked and clawed at the earth, but there was nothing for it. Her cover was blown!

"Oh! You smell of arousal!" The male growled, this time sounding mildly shocked. He chuckled as he teased, "Maybe you aren't watching us all, you're just watching him!"

He stopped abruptly when she came fully into view and he found himself looking down at a completely naked female dokkalfar child. His eyes widened in shock, and then narrowed suspiciously.

"You're a child!" He exclaimed.

"Who are you? Where did you come from?" He growled, "Answer me girl!"

Fear gripped her throat like a hand strangling her. With a shrill shriek she snatched her foot, hoping to free herself of the wolf. His hand tightened like a vise around her ankle but she did succeed in pulling him off balance. Kicking at him, she succeeded again in catching him in the abdomen and propelling him backwards. He released her as he stumbled and flipping over she quickly hopped to her feet. Looking around she found shocked wolf village inhabitants staring at her in surprise, and then she was running!

She ran as fast as her long strong legs could carry her in ground-eating strides. She had never been able to run like this in her previous life. There was a small river nearby. If she could just make it there she might lose the wolf and anyone else that was chasing her. A bolas suddenly wrapped around her waist and she was snatched off of her feet!

"Stop! Running!" The wolf that found her growled as he slowly walked up to her while pulling her back towards him with the other end of the bolas.

"Finally tired of watching, did you Espowyes?" The silver wolf she had been admiring earlier said in a deep rumbling voice that she found very pleasing.

"All she does is observe us," Espowyes grumbled, "Or rather, she watches you Wanageeska in particular. She finds you appealing. I think she wants to mate with you…"

She wrestled with the binding of the bolas, but too soon she was being hauled to her feet and stood up in front of Espowyes and Wanageeska. She was tall, taller than her mother, she was sure of it, but these two men still stood a head taller than her. Defiant, she glared at them. They returned her stare passively, each of them scrutinizing her from head to toes, she finally begged, "Please, don't kill me! Don't eat me!"

Their eyes sharpened then and they glanced from her to each other before Wanageeska said, "She would make a good mate for someone. Not me though. I have my hands full already with Winema and Zaltana. Perhaps you Espowyes?"

Espowyes looked her up and down appraisingly before he teased, "Prime is remarkably awful eating, and even if we were interested in eating you we would need to feed you for half a year to fatten you up enough to make it worth it!"

To Wanageeska he answered, "I have my eyes set upon Chenoa, why would I settle for this… half-starved child, Prime or not?"

"Hey!" She hissed indignantly.

"You have not won Chenoa's heart or hand, yet," Wanageeska chuckled as he shook his head, "She moons over Kuruk just as you moon over her, and Kuruk moons over Meda though he has no chance of her ever looking in his direction. If any of you ever dared to look back over your shoulders… Well, you just might find the one that loves you most, but that is only my observation."

"You have a point," Espowyes answered thoughtfully.

Hlina admired Espowyes' willingness to listen to council, but she did not like them discussing her like she was a ham to be passed around until someone wanted to eat her! Struggling again she growled, "I am no piece of meat for you to pass around!"

Wanageeska's eyes sharpened as he looked her in the eyes. She stopped struggling and stepped back. His eyes were a fierce golden color that seemed to glow. Bringing a hand to her chin, he tilted her head up so that she couldn't look away as he said, "No piece of meat. If only the Primes ever saw us as anything more than meat! Or tools! You answer me quickly girl, or I will rip out your throat and we will all dine on dokkalfar meat tonight! Who are you? Where are you from? And, are you a scout? Are there more of you lurking around waiting to attack us?"

Hlina's dark-brown eyes widened at the threats, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly. Despite her indignation, she felt a warm trickle of urine course down her inner thighs as she told her story. Of her father trying to kill her. Of her mother killing her father. Of them running away and living in a cave for eight years. Of her mother being killed by three men, and of how she had killed them. And of living the last six years by herself until she couldn't take the loneliness anymore.

With tears in her eyes she tried to hold her head up high as she concluded, "I only watched you because… Because I was lonely and scared. I want to be near people again, but I wasn't sure how you would react to me just walking into your village. I also saw what you eat. I've eaten chipmunk before, but I didn't want to be the next item on the menu if you didn't appreciate my arrival. I suppose though, that if you kill me, it is fine. If you send me away I will return to my cave, though I will not survive the winter. I will lay on my mother's grave and join her…"

"Dramatic," Espowyes teased, but his heart was not in it as he looked to Wanageeska for his opinion.

Wanageeska looked at her for a long time. He put his hand on his chin and ogled her from her head to her toes and back up again before he answered, "You truly have no family? No people?"

"None," She answered.

"Remarkable," He mumbled as he shook his head. Turning to Espowyes he said, "You have first rights to her as your catch. You can take her as a wife, or as a captive. If you take her as a wife you may take her to your bed. However, if you do not you must not despoil her. If you do not want her I will take her as a daughter until she is of age. Afterward, I will find a man worthy of her."

"Worthy of her?" Espowyes laughed in surprised ridicule, "She's a Prime! What value do you see in her?"

Wanageeska shook his head, but he answered with a sigh, "Espowyes, you are a good man. So, I will tell you because you are still young. Otherwise I would not."

Looking at me he continued, "Look at her Espowyes. Look at her but do not look at her skin. See the fierce spirit within. She may wear the body of a dokkalfar, but within that young girl lies the spirit of a survivor. A wild thing. A true Wild One! She's only sixteen years old and yet she has lived most of her life in a land that is harsh in good seasons, and deadly in the bad. For nearly half that time she has been utterly alone. How many of our own children, given those circumstances, would have done half as well? Would you have done as well as she has? My only regret is that her mother is dead. Such strength of character is in short supply no matter whether they are a Prime or Animal."

Turning back to Espowyes he continued, "Now, I have said my piece. You have first rights Espowyes, what will it be? Will you have her as a wife? A captive? Or will you relinquish your claim?"

"I…," Espowyes mumbled as he glanced from Wanageeska to Hlina. With a resigned sigh he answered, "I will take her as a wife. What you say is true. I did not see her worth Wanageeska, but your words have removed the blinders of prejudice from my eyes. I will take her to my home, and she will eat from my hand. She will sleep in my bed, and she will never be forsaken. She will find warmth in my arms, and she will bear many offspring from my loins."

Wanageeska nodded. He was smiling now as he took out a cord of red rope. It was roughly two feet long, and he tied one end to her wrist and the other to Espowyes. Hlina didn't speak up. She was just happy they weren't sending her away, or slaughtering her for dinner. Once the red rope was tied to them Wanageeska loosed the bolas around her waist. He rolled it up and then took her chin in his hand and tilted her head up to look at her.

"From this day onward you are the wife of Espowyes," He said softly, "He has given his oath to provide for you. It is your right, if he does not provide for you, to bring your claims of neglect and oath-breaking to the village chieftain and speak before the council. He will be admonished to keep his oaths first, and then if he does not you may seek a nullification of your union and appeal for a new husband. These are your rights Hlina Reas Alvasdottir, as one of the Howling Forde Lupus."

When he was done Wanageeska turned to Espowyes and suggested, "You may wish to take her to the river and let her bathe, so she is not humiliated in front of the village by her incontinence."

Espowyes nodded and Wanageeska left them. Hlina watched Espowyes as he led her to the river. He wore pants much like Wanageeska, and the more she watched him the more she saw much of the older man's resolve in the younger. She found herself smirking, but didn't mind it. Espowyes coat of fur was a mottled blue-gray. He was not as pretty as Wanageeska, but on second and third observation she thought she found him just as attractive.

The wind picked up, coming from behind them. When the scent of her arousal wafted into Espowyes nose he turned with wide eyes to regard her in surprise. She smirked at him and gave her best "I ready when you are" looks.

Clearing his throat, he mumbled, "After you bathe, we will go to your camp and gather your things."

She nodded and her smirk curled up into a full smile, "How long have you known I was watching you?"

"We caught your scent almost a week before you found our village," Espowyes admitted, "We followed you all the way back. When it was determined that you were going to discover us, most of my brothers said we should kill you and dispose of your body."

"Why didn't you," She asked.

"You were alone, and naked," Espowyes replied with a shake of his head, "I sent my brothers away and with a promise that I would kill you if you tried to leave our territory, but even if you are a Prime I could see that something was not right. So I waited, and watched."

"You don't think very highly of me, do you?" She asked, suddenly changing topics.

"Every wild Animal in this world is raised to fear the Primes," He mumbled under his breath, "Fear later becomes prejudice and hatred once you are driven from your home a few times when Primes come hunting and killing any Animal they find. So no, I don't think very highly of you. What you have accomplished on your own is extraordinary, but beautiful as you are, it will take time for me to see anything other than a Prime when I look at you."

He paused then, and thought about what he said before continuing, "I must warn you, I am not alone in this. Most of the village will be suspicious of you until you've proven you're not just another Prime."

"I… understand," She answered a tad bit breathily. She hadn't expected to be ostracized purely because of her race. She hadn't experienced it in her previous life either, but she knew it. Racism seemed to proliferate wherever humans existed, apparently. There seemed to always be those that thought they were better than others because of one reason or another. Culture. Religion. Skin color. Eye color. Height. Weight. A million different reasons to hate, kill, and terrorize, and in return spawning and enflaming more hatred, more killing, and more terror.

A cycle that can only be stopped by one thing… Love…