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Aldrnari Pyrelight had never cared too much for Ascalon. The place was mostly ruined, and while it gave the younglings a good homeland to explore, defend, learn, and forge their warbands, he had never particularly cared for the land of his birth. The son of an Iron legion forge master and former Flame legion shamaness, at least one half of his ancestry had always been in question as to his loyalty to his birth legion.

Still, there were a few things here worth coming back to. The brewers within the black citadel were one of his favorites, along with his old Warband's stomping grounds in the Plains of Ashford.

At the very least, it was a damned sight more comfortable here than it was further north in Fireheart rise, where he'd busied himself keeping the traitorous Flame legion at bay the season before, or in the far west, with the thick jungles of Maguma still plagued by the remnants of the Mordrem loyalists or bloodstone crazed beasts, never even mind the swarms of pocket raptors and vines thick enough to carve a home into.

He'd spent the last three months there earning his keep by fending off attacks for a group of Asura, along with a handful of other Charr mercenaries. His flamethrower had found plenty of use there, not to mention his extensive knowledge of constructing traps and automated turrets out of whatever materials he could get his paws on.

He reached up, adjusting the strap on the soot-blackened weapon that had earned him his Warband name as it rested across his shoulder blades, tied to the rest of the pack brimming with his ill-gotten takings. His skill with the weapon was something to behold, and he worked the fire from the weapon with an almost unnatural glee. Perhaps he'd inherited some of his mother's talent with working the fire, though her art had been done with her bare hands. His relied wholly on the skill and the condition of the tools of his trade.

He stopped just beyond the walls of the Ashford trading forum, his four ears flicking about, listening for any sign of danger. Even this close to the citadel itself, Flame legion and separatists were problematic at best, and an outright irritation at worst, even if they didn't serve much of a threat. He could take care of himself. Heck, even as an arrogant cub they hadn't proven much threat, with him and his Warband often seeking out their camps to ambush them and earn some glory. Of course, also didn't hurt that it made them look badass to the other young cubs, and earned them gloating rights as an adolescent.

He chuckled as he tore off a hunk of Moa jerky, sitting against a rock to give his paws a break from the trip. It felt like a very, very long time ago. Since then, his fur had grown out, as had his teeth and horns, along with the thick mane of inky black hair running along the top of his head and down past the nape of his spine. Reaching up, he rubbed the sharp horn jutting a good hands width out from the top of his jawbone.

The Black Citadel loomed in the distance, as tall and imposing as he remembered it from his childhood. He'd grown up rough. His mother, for obvious reasons, hadn't exactly been welcome within the walls, and his father's skills were always needed on one front or another, leaving most of his raising up to the warbands. Of course, that wasn't exactly unusual for Charr, but even so... He could hold it against the old man. It wasn't as if he were around much either for the three cubs he knew about.

With a grunt, he picked himself up, continuing down the dusty, well-trodden trail that led towards the Citadel. Of course, he planned on visiting but therein did not lie his main reason for returning here every time. His real destination lay just before the Citadel, a small village that simply went by Smokestead, and the one particular Charr who always seemed to draw him back.

Her fur looked golden almost in the late afternoon light, tinted copper by the smoke that rose perpetually from the forges within the Black Citadel, spotted like a leopard, unlike his own dark tiger stripes sharp against the ash grey of his pelt. She was shorter than him by almost two full heads. Her horns elegantly curved backwards, and her ears twitched in his direction as his feet crunched on the gravel leading towards the scattering of houses in the village.

Fierce emerald eyes bored into him as her head turned at the familiar jangling of his loaded kit, and the shine of his gold-rimmed armor. Her own apparel was much lighter, simpler to manage, a tanned leather jacket covering her soft fur that he could already recall beneath his fingers. She glared at him. An arrow thudded into the road barely two inches from his left foot.

"Oh no you don't. You don't get to just waltz back in here after last time!" She hissed, nocking another arrow in the sleekly curving longbow clasped in her paws. The near-miss didn't faze him. If she'd intended to hit him, she would have. He'd seen her fight enough times to know she didn't miss easily.

"And the time before that?" He chuckled, deep, baritone voice rumbling as he plucked the arrow up, and continued his lazy stride towards her.

"As I recall, I took that out on your ear for the last time you went off adventuring and left me laying in bed to nurse cubs!"

Of course she had. How could he forget? His upper right ear still bore the long tear down it's middle, an easy three inches long splitting it into two halves that flapped about when he twitched it. His four ears gave a twitch. Oh, it had stung, but oh had it been worth it...

"And the time before that?" He was perhaps thirty feet from her now, standing across a small gravel clearing. Her bow was still leveled at him, utterly unerring in her aim.

"Pretty sure I kept a chunk of your pelt from all the clawing we did." Her bow wavered half an inch downwards. His pack clattered to the ground behind him as he let it slide from his shoulders, boldly stalking across the gap between himself and the smaller female. She prodded his chest with the tip of her arrow when he was close enough.

He batted her bow aside. It fell from her paw, forgotten. A knife appeared at his throat. He brushed it aside, grabbing her by the wrists as he pinned her to the steel side of her small home. The knife fell away as his lips met hers. She kicked him in the shin for good measure and parted her jaws to let his tongue wrestle with her own, arms hanging loosely in his grip as she kissed him back.

"I was beginning to think maybe you'd finally been eaten by something larger than you. You'd never forget about me." She growled playfully, her tone harsh, but only playfully so. This was their normal ritual. He'd missed Tannivar's touch. Releasing her paws, her arms immediately went around his neck, looping over his broad shoulders as she all but threw herself into his embrace.

"Never. I'd have killed it from the inside then. Thought you knew me better than that after I dragged you into my Warband." He rumbled, playfully nipping at her lower lip. She batted his face away with her palm in a very feline way, using her entire paw to turn his head as she lunged at his exposed throat.

"Nuh-uh, I don't think so mister. Considering you never take me out with the Warband." She growled against his life vein, hotly lashing her tongue over his pulse as she dug her claws into his back, scratching right through the fancy jacket he wore and into his skin. He gave a soft grunt, shoving her back against the house again roughly until she retracted her claws, and swung her head up to kiss him again.

He returned it in kind, murmuring between their lips.

"Mhmm, sure you aren't, my little Lightbow."

"Maybe it's a different light clan?" She tried to brush it off, but she'd accepted his invitation to his Warband before they'd had their first cub. And the second... And the third... She gave an annoyed chuff. "You can't just come back here to knock me up again while you get to go out adventuring with the rest of the crew. Besides. I'm the only decent archer you've got. What? Between the rest of you, you've as much ranged effectiveness as a pack of cubs throwing stones."

"Well, I don't know about that. Between our three throwing stones, I'd say that's fairly- Mmph." She shut him up with another kiss, this time taking the lead and wrestling her tongue past his lips to fight for dominance between his teeth. He invariably drover her back until she was panting hotly through her nose, the tips of her horns scraping the steel wall behind her from tilting her head back so far.

"Don't make me set your foot on fire with an arrow again, mister. I still haven't forgiven you for leaving me as sore as you did before you left. I was in bed for 3 days!"

"Oh please, you were already heavy and swollen, and you were begging for it." He countered, setting the little feline back down. She turned deftly, and whipped her tail across his nose, making him recoil in surprise.

"Wanting you and begging for you are two different things, Oldrnari. You're lucky to have found someone as young and flexible as me. Frankly, at your age, I'm surprised you haven't started investing in a tombstone for yourself." She teased him as she made her way over to the doorway, pushing it open and turning in the frame, looking at him expectantly.

"Well? Don't think I'm bringing your things in for you. You had best get going up to the market and fetch some of those Orrian Steak Frittes if you're expecting any kind of welcome home tonight!" She laughed in his face, and promptly slammed the door in his face, leaving him just grinning dumbly and shaking his head. How the hell had he ended up with Tannivar was just about anyone's guess.

Tannivar all but threw herself onto the bed, still laughing with her giddy excitement. He was home, back to either keep her barefoot and pregnant or to pick her up to drag her off to adventure, did it really matter anymore? The infuriating male was her mate, her soul mate, like him or not, and she belonged with him and it never felt right when they were apart.

It's been a good three months since I saw him last, right before my grievance leave... Some Charr females went through a sort of... spell after their year-old cubs were shipped off to their Farhar, and Tannivar didn't have much of a choice to take the leave they offered to saddened parents. She knew it was part of the life of a Charr, but the grief didn't care. It kept her from work longer after each cub, but Aldrnari checked on her often, and unlike many of her Warband he never berated her for her weakness.

The old man is just as sad as I am not to come home to a house full of screeching cubs. She hated the quiet, but she needed time before she could go with her partner again to war, she didn't want to get anyone killed as much as she needed to be with him.

Honestly, he couldn't have returned soon enough, and when he did finally knock upon the door, she all but leaped off of the bed to throw it open. The wafting aroma of the well-seared steaks hit her nose immediately, and she snagged him by the collar of his shirt and yanked the much larger male inside.

Well, that certainly hadn't been what he had been expecting, if the look on his face was anything to go by, but when she stood upon the very tips of her toes to kiss him, any emotion besides his adoration for her fled from his features. His lips were warm, and his embrace was nice, even if he was awkwardly trying to balance two plates as he held her.

"Surely you didn't miss me that much."

She pushed him away, and snatched one of the plates of food from his hands, padding over to her sofa so she could eat.

"Nope. Just was eager for my food to get back. You can go, or stay. Whatever really. Shut up and come eat with me." She whined softly, and together, they sat side by side, enjoying their food. Even without words between them, and just the quiet clink of cutlery on the cheap clay baked plates,

Just his presence in itself was a massive comfort to her, and her tail flicked, her mood vastly improved just simply by him being here. Aldrnari was more often than not out roaming with his Warband, but she was... Well, often at home with their cubs, or pregnant with them. Several of his children were already grown and had warbands of their own, and the ones he'd had with her were still younger. Occasionally, he'd surprise her by returning with one of them in tow, and they would regale her with stories of battling fierce devourers or chasing angry Moas, and of playing Warband with the other cubs.

Neither spoke until each morsel of food was cleaned from their plates, but considering how she'd just been about to find dinner before he'd shown up unannounced as he did. He finished before she did, but respectfully waited until she was done before he even opened his mouth to speak.

"So how have-"

She shut him up by twisting suddenly and pressing her lips against his own. The larger Charr simply purred in response, pulling Tannivar into his lap with a delicacy that seemed uncommon for the brutish, warlike cats, petting one of his massive paws through her hair.

"You're home." She simply stated like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. Not the flame legion, not gold, not Ascalon, not even the other Charr. He was there now, and so was she, and everything in the world was right for that perfect moment.

"Yes. I am." Their purring filled the simple home as they simply held each other for a few long, long minutes, his teeth adoringly gracing the edges of her ears and neck while his paws ran up along the length of her spine. She tucked her nose into his chest, her fingers working to unclasp his top while she did. The moment it was out of the way, she took a deep breath, taking in his scent as she nuzzled the light grey fluff covering his strong pecs.

He smelled of the jungle, wet and earthy. Of the hot plains of the Silverwastes, but strong above it all was the sharp tang of the crude napalm of his flamethrower, and the scent of soot and ash, of a thousand foes reduced to cinders under his boot, and gunpowder that followed when his tanks finally ran dry.

"You had an exciting trip to Maguma, didn't you?" She pointed out, summing up her assessment just based on the scents she drew from his fur alone. She dug her paws into the thick fur of his pelt that ran down the length of his spine, curling his fingers into fists, unwilling to let him go.

"It'd have almost been nice if it weren't for the ankle-biter swarms." He replied with a sarcastic chuckle.

"You got something against short people?" She teased.

"Only when they're covered in scales and trying to eat me."

She mawwed on his nipple in response, her tail flicking as she crawled up over him. She knew she'd inevitably end up with another cub in her if she kept this up. She didn't care. To stay with him, it was worth it. She'd force him to take her with him when she left. She was part of his Warband as well, and there was nothing he could do to stop her short of tying her up. Of course, she always did a good job of not letting it show, and certainly not letting it get in her way, but eventually, it did cause issues when drawing her bowstring back.

Aldrnari's paws found her hips, his fingers digging in through the leather trousers while she wriggled in his lap, her tail swishing back and forth like an excited cub. Of course, he would have been doing likewise if it weren't pinned beneath him...

"So, how much did you miss me, my little warmonger?" He rumbled, pulling Tannivar close against his chest as he listened to her pleased, contented purring. Her entire chest was vibrating like the engine of a Charr tank storming down the roads of Orr.

"Enough. Too much. You're always gone for months at a time, and when I do get mail from you, it's like catching a fleeting glimpse of you on a crowded street. I get to hear your voice in my head for barely a minute, and then you're gone again, off on some exciting adventure with the rest of the Warband. I'm not doing that again." She growled, and leaned in, nibbling along the edge of his throat as she purred out languidly.

She straddled his waist like she had so many times before, and yet each time they were together felt new, exciting, like a reignited passion in her chest, and a smouldering heat just waiting to be reignited in... Other places. His touch sent tingles of anticipation racing along her spine, her back instinctively curving and arching as his fingers traced its length from her neck down to her tail, where his fingers wrapped around the long, swaying appendage, giving it a gentle tug.

"You will.... Just you'll have to come with me this time if you think you can keep up."

"Please, all of you men are one and done. It'll be you trying to keep up with me this time." Tannivar said with a laugh, batting at his face with one of her paws. His whiskers folded beneath her fingers, making his nose twitch reflexively like he was suppressing a sneeze. Just the fact that the expression was so ill-fitting on his face made her chuff with mirth.

Perhaps that had been a part of why she had fallen for him so easily. When she first saw him, it had been clearing a separatist stronghold, when they'd both been on a job assigned by the tribunes. He'd been a good few years younger then, but he was still tall and chiseled, like a grey granite statue, washing fire back and forth with a sort of glee to his grisly work.

She'd fought at his side for hours until they'd cleared each and every room, her bow striking down runners, and his flamethrower rooting out those who tried to hide in cover. By the end of it, she had been panting from exertion and the heat, and his fur had been several shades darker, covered in a fine layer of soot and ash from wielding his destructive tool.

He'd offered her water when he'd seen her state, and by the light of a dying fire, they'd had their own little victory celebration with wine and some passionate lovemaking in the shadows of the camp. Since then, she'd almost always fought by his side, at least until she grew too pregnant to follow... She was determined not to let him out of her sight again.

His massive paw cupped her cheek, holding her like she was a delicate flower in the grasp of a giant, and his lips met hers again with a renewed drive.

"Please, you know me better than that. You weren't complaining about one and done last time. You were moaning because I wouldn't stop..." His voice was growled between their kisses, the much larger charr simply picking her up in his embrace. Her legs reflexively swung around and she crossed her feet just above his tail base.

"Mhmm... Last time was nearly three months ago though. You've been gone far too long. Now shut up and take me to bed, you brute, if you insist on having me. Show me just how much you missed me." She snapped with that same sort of fierceness that had drawn him to her originally.

He was more than happy to comply, all but kicking open the door to her bedroom, the steel scuffed at the same spot from him having repeated the same action countless times while he carried her away. Her jerkin and undershirt got lost somewhere along the way, as did his heavy boots. Her back crashed into the mattress as his weight pinned her paws above her head, using just a single hand to hold her down while the other threw his belt and trousers across the room.

In short order, he was bared fully to her, his shaggy, grey and black striped pelt on full display. Comparatively, her own ginger fur appeared vibrant against his muted colours. All of his cubs by her at least had gotten her pelt, brilliant light oranges with black and white mixed in here and there.

His bare hands worked against her chest roughly as he shifted to the end of the bed, slowly going down onto his knees so that he could better go down on her. His horns became like handlebars, and she grabbed on eagerly as his nose brushed against the thin slit between her legs, a low, approving growl passing his lips as he scented her desire, her need, ages-old instincts determining her suitability for breeding.

A warm chuff of air blew across the thin ginger fur that covered her intimates, as he gave a feral sounding 'Ruk ruk' from his throat, his tongue lashing out to taste her. Feline tongues weren't gentle, Charr included. He was rough and demanding with his licks, but she wouldn't have expected or accepted anything less. There was value in a male who knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it.

She moaned at that first contact, her claws adding fresh 'trophy marks' as he called them into the bone of his horns, between the countless other shallow grooves she'd made over their years together. They were her claim to him, and his proof of claim on her, as much as the three beautiful and strong cubs she'd given him, and the many more she would more than likely bear him in the years to come.

His claim on her was just as irrefutable as the scars she left on his back, the teeth marks he left covering the scruff of her neck, innumerable scratches all over each of their bodies. He snarled between her thighs, and she gasped, her hips lifting off the bed entirely. His claws dug into the insides of her thighs as he used his strength to shove her legs apart, baring her sex freely to his muzzles aggression.

His tongue penetrated into her sweet passage, pushing her outer lips apart like a blooming flower, devouring her nectar-like he was drinking Nord mead at the tavern. His rough tongue scraped her insides wetly, slick with saliva, but still with a coarse graininess to each lap of the muscle. In each swipe, there was a rasp of discomfort, and a wave of pleasure that made her push her hips up and pull his head in, her moans only matched in the small room by his growls.

She tried to wriggle away from the stimulation, her little clit throbbing each time his tongue roughly scraped over the oversensitive bundle of nerves, her sharpened teeth biting into her lip to stifle her moans and whimpers. Her knuckles would have been white if the fur on her fingers didn't cover them so well, so tightly clenched around his horns, guiding and pulling his head exactly where she wanted him.

He growled once more, his entire chest thrumming as he dove his tongue deep, gathering up her feline honey on his taste buds with broad, sweeping laps that had her moaning and arching like a common whore in heat, her entire body trembling. He drew the thick oral muscle back, rasping her insides and flickering the very tip of his tongue over her clit, and Tannivar simply lost it.

She collapsed to the bed with a thump, taking the stupid male and his stupid horns back down to the mattress with her, and thumping his jaw against the bedframe in the process. Her climax overtook her, and for a long moment, she saw nothing but blinding white flashes and felt nothing but a plateau of pleasure that had set her nerves aflame as surely as Aldrnari's flamethrower would have ignited a bale of hay.

She collapsed, limbs and tail twitching erratically, wildly even as her passaged clenched around a tongue that was no longer there, earning a few needy whimpers from the usually resolute and strong female. Underneath him, she was more than happy to relinquish that control, for a time at least...

Between her thighs, Aldrnari gave his head a firm shake, reminding her that she was still holding his horns in a death grip, and when she didn't take the hint after a few moments, instead, he sealed his lips around her clit, suckling firmly. She gave a sudden and surprised yowl, pushing his head away from her still spasming womanhood before she fell back, panting.

"I would have reminded you to let go, but you've never done that before. This seemed more efficient." He said with a rumble, laying a soft trail of kisses along the edge of her thigh, his paws stroking over her fur slowly.

She breathed out a sigh and made a lazy rude gesture with one of her paws, her tail tip still twitching back and forth like a loose live wire. Her entire body was humming, her very core filling with a warmth that was all too familiar and welcome.

"Mrrhmm... Damn you and your efficiency." She moaned as he crawled up over her body, his own tail lashing rapidly. His clothes were kicked off on the end of the bed, or what remained of them that he hadn't discarded yet. His grey fur shone like silver, with thick bands of black running across his entire body in tiger-like stripes. Specks of silver were scattered through them as well, along with numerous singes, burns, and knots of bare flesh from a lifetime of fighting that one simply acquired in his profession.

Her paws reached up, pressing softly against his abs, stroking through the fur and gently, tenderly brushing across each knot of burned or scarred skin they found, and yet even if she had the power to magically mend them as some did, she wouldn't have. A Charr's scars were their legacy, and his were as impressive as they were numerous. She'd been by his side when he'd earned many of them, and him by hers when she had earned her own.

The soft pads of her fingers combed through his coarse and thick pelt, following the line of an old wound, where a champion risen on Orr had tried to cleave him in two, then shifted to another, hidden by fur-regrowth where an arrow had lodged itself in his waist, and in a rage, he'd torn it out with a roar before he burned the offending archer into a pile of ashes that the wind would have scattered to history.

She'd witnessed the ferocity with which he fought for his Warband, the reckless courage and fearlessness that he confronted his foes with, risking all to close within range of his tool of choice. To him, rifles felt impersonal, and mortars hardly let you see what you were firing at, but a flamethrower? Close enough to see their eyes, but far enough to avoid a sword... Most of the time.

Her fingers curled as they looped over his hips, his entire torso covering her now, his muzzle buried in the crook of her neck, his teeth grazing her life vein when she felt a fresh addition, the small, telltale bumps of stitches almost catching on her claws. He gave a quiet hiss in warning, and she ignored him, stroking her fingertips across the uneven line in a slow, careful stroke.

"Hmmm... Earning stories without me again? Whitetooth did these, didn't he?"

Aldrnari huffed and parted his teeth, slowly stretching his muzzle across her neck until he had her throat between his jaws like a lion hauling a carcass. She went limp submissively, raising her hips up until she felt his eagerness brushing over her belly, leaving a thin streak of his mess from her navel to her puffy nethers as he shifted into the pleasant sensation of her fur rubbing against his maleness.

"It was nothing... A scratch. Wasn't going to let it stop me from getting back to you- Ahhh~ Grrrr..." He gave a growl as she prodded the wound with her thumb.

"One of the Mordrem guards scored a lucky blow..." He grumbled, brushing off the wound like it was utterly inconsequential, and more of an insult to his pride than anything else.

"Hmmm... Probably wouldn't have if I'd been there to watch your back." She rhetorically muttered, unable to contain the grin upon her features. He wiped it off of her face by rolling his hips back, and forcing the first inch of his tapered pink Charr cock into her sopping folds, her mouth opening into a pleasured gasp.

The soft moan about to pass her lips was stolen away when he pushed her down into the bed, snarling as he kissed her roughly, and drew himself back, her body clenching around his spire to hold him inside. His barbs flared, and she yowled as they dug into her sensitive, cum slickened flesh. He hilted himself in her a moment later, driving himself all the way to her Cervix with a thrust that demonstrated his power, and his ability to tame the little wildcat beneath him.

Gods above she had missed this. She'd have given up her share of the spoils from even a most profitable raid if it meant he nailed her like this as her reward. Her claws dug into his back like pinpricks that drew blood, locking herself to him while he ravaged her already swollen and sensitive sex with his barbs. They covered his shaft and his cockhead like a hundred tiny little claws, scraping and scratching her itch in a most thorough way, primal and bestial, a savage callback to their ancestors' rutting in the plains and scorched savannahs to the far north of the continent.

They made her body thrum like a struck harp, the sensations exciting, sharp, and very much at the forefront of her mind, impossible to ignore. He wasn't gentle, ad nor would she have expected or wanted him to be. This was three months of stress and lust boiling over, surrendering to instinct and his base nature, and she was the lucky recipient.

His fangs closed around her throat, and she could feel his tongue bathing over her life vein between his thrusts, pounding her raw with her very life hanging in limbo. His bite wasn't hard enough to break the skin, but she knew him well enough to expect he could as easily as he laid down his foes. Still, it was enough to start depriving her head of precious blood and airflow, and she moaned in increasingly loud, but breathless gasps.

The pleasure and pain built as he snarled, releasing her neck so he could shift, supporting himself on his hands as he changed up his angle, his hips a blur of motion and pure lust fuelled fucking, wet slaps echoing off of the walls in her modest house. His sac slapped against her rump with each forceful hilt, the large, heavy orbs within his furred ballsack more than ready to put another heir of his into her womb. They'd be completely empty by the early morning when he finally decided he'd fucked her enough to sate both of their lusts for at least another day.

She wouldn't have it any other way, and slid her soft paws along his waist, before she dug her claws into the powerful muscles of his glutes, grabbing her partner by the ass to hold him inside of her. He was throbbing, his barbs fully flared and tearing their way along her passage, scratching the delicate flesh and triggering her body to react by priming her for breeding.

She'd already been entering her heat, and she knew it. There was absolutely no chance that Aldrnari would leave before he was certain she was going to grow heavy with his next cub, and there was no way she would let him before he'd done exactly that. He was going nowhere, and neither was she.

With a growl, she bit him back, trying to encourage him to take her harder, to prove to her that he was worthy of being her mate. It was a ritual of theirs almost. Passion between Charr was often a rough and almost violent courting that few of the other races of Tyria understood or engaged in, to the extent that the savage felines did.

Blood, cuts, scratches, bruises and even the occasional dislocated arm from someone being a little overzealous pinning their partner down weren't unheard of. They were creatures of war. Violence was an inherent part of everyday life for Charr, and it extended to the bedroom as well. She'd tried doing it gently. It really wasn't for either of them. The callback to the primal urges and instincts just didn't click.

But this? The way he held her, pinned her, owned her and dominated her, showing his strength and his virility with each wet smack as he hilted her, and dragged his barbs back through her clenching and spasming tunnel... It was a raw passion, untamed and wild, and she craved it.

She'd witnessed Kralkatoric's brand storms up close, even flown her way through a few, and traveled others on foot when passing down the scar. They gave her the same thrill, harsh, raw, violent, unpredictable. One could never tell where the next strike would come, how the crack of the bolt would set your nerves tingling, the way the fur on her arms stood on end a moment before the strike when the air became charged.

That was the kind of love she needed. Romance and sweetness were well and good, but it didn't stroke her the same way that this did. She moaned for him, arching her hips up and rocking back against his thrusts as her peak quickly built, rising and rising until she felt as if she were standing atop a mountain, standing on the tips of her toes at the very edge. His growled order set her off.

"Cum." He snarled and took her throat between his teeth once more.

He was her Warband's leader, and she gave herself over to his command in her entirety. Her body spasmed around him, the rich, feminine scent of her arousal hitting her nose sharply as she was pushed bodily from her peak, tumbling over it with nothing holding her back. She rode her peak as his barbed prick flared within her passage, digging into her sensitive flesh harshly while he claimed his prize.

Tannivar let herself go, rocking her hips back against her mate while his claws dug into her to try and hold her still, warmth flooding her core as he plastered her cervix with his life-giving seed. His own snarls and roars joined her in a blissful symphony of release, months of pent up lust and longing and need that was fulfilled in the span of a few long, sacred moments that neither would have traded for all the gold in the world.

Slowly, her frenzied moans and caterwauls turned to soft whimpers and pants, the feline showing her throat to him in complete submission. Despite everything, despite the months apart, the conflicted feelings, the sadness whenever her cubs left home... It was all worth it to her. She started purring as his tongue swept across her life vein tenderly, his teeth grazing her fur.

"Ahh, you... You're taking me with you. I don't care." Tannivar finally managed to get the words out, her entire body slumping into the mattress while she tried to collect her thoughts up from the puddle forming between her thighs.

"Mhmmm.... Sure you can keep up with a pup?" Aldrnari teased with a chuckle, slowly drawing himself back, leaving her slit dripping with white globs of his cream trickling down the insides of her thighs.

She growled, rolling over, and with a deft sweep of her legs, she laid the larger male out on the floor, all over him in an instant, straddling his waist, one of her paws wrapped tightly around his still twitching prick, her thumb rubbing his tip.

"Oh, I think I can manage far more than that... Think you can keep up with me?" She growled, lining him up with her puffy sex-lips as she sank down on him. Oh, she'd show him who couldn't keep up...