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Alpha Will - The Trial

It had been a harsh winter in the forested valley where the tribe of wolves lived. Freezing temperatures, copious snow, and vicious beasts had been experienced and conquered with knowledge passed down through the ages. With the winter food stores running low, the sudden turn in the graces of the weather gods had been welcomed with especial gratitude. Once again warm wind blew through the valley and the snow became but a wet memory. Nature was being reborn, and with it the tribe's activity began to increase. This was the time of sowing the fields, renewing the hunt and giving thanks for the gods that oversaw their multitude of lives, in the good and the bad times.

With that came the trials.

The youth of the tribe whom had matured over the winter months were to stand before the tribal leaders, the elders and their peers, to show their skills and strengths in the hopes of being recognized as adult members of the tribe. It was a time of great celebrations, brawling, sparring and secret dealings, for this life changing event was taken very seriously.

Tensions ran high in the longhouse of the Riltak family as well. In the men's chamber, the mighty grey wolf stood tall, looking upon the youthful figure of his son, Olvar, who appeared before his father with his head held high, yet with an anxious twist to his tail.

"My son..." the fatherly wolf spoke in his deep voice.

"You must not be concerned of me, Father," the young man replied confidently, "I shall do my best in the challenges that await me."

The Father's brow knit with worry, despite his boy's words.

"Your words give me comfort, my son, but it is a troubled time we lead...you know what I talk about, do you not?"

The youth growled.

"I do know, Father," he said, "I know the words that are whispered in the longhouses over the fires and smoke. The house of Kuruk intends to extend its reach even further come this year."

"Yes, indeed it is so," Riltak replied heavily, "and with his son Braum taking the trials this year as well..."

"He is a but a mewling whelp, Father," the boy said, "He speaks more than he does, and he has not yet proven himself!"

The elder wolf's tail shuffled and bristled in poor temper.

"There is much talk that Kuruk has arranged for the trials to be very favorable for his son," Riltak stated.

"That does not matter," said the boy, "I will not bring dishonor to our family, Father, whatever the outcome of the trials for me or anyone else."

The fur-cloaked father looked at his son with further concern. He did not seem entirely convinced by his youngest offspring's words. Olvar was young, and bright-eyed, indeed, still growing into his body as well, a sleek figure dressed in the light spring leathers that his generation preferred. He might have been a spirited youth, but severals other had come of age during this springtime and many were vying for the spots on the top of the hierarchy within the tribe.

Riltak wondered, mostly privately, what would become of his youngest son. His elder brother, Ranbor, had performed well during the challenges a few years past, becoming a member of the hunting parties, yet the older wolf was not sure what his young son would fare. He feared that Kuruk might influence the trial and bring misfortune to the House of Riltak. The competition for the top spots of the tribe had been a long struggle where both of their families had played roles, with Kuruk coming through as the winner so far. Riltak feared that ill fortune could befall them should his son fail...

The grizzled wolf placed his paws upon his son's shoulders and squeezed them firmly.

"I trust you to obey my word and to uphold the traditions and honor of our House and this tribe, son, " Riltak spoke to him solemnly.

His son bowed to him, slightly, before meeting his eyes again.

"Will you give me your blessing, Father?" he said.

The Father nodded, curtly.

"It shall be yours," said the father, before he placed a very soft, brief kiss onto his son's forehead. "Consider yourself blessed."

"Thank you, Father," the young wolf replied.

"It will be time soon," the older wolf said.

"I am ready," the son answered.

*

Olvar, the youngest son, left the longhouse of his family after a teary goodbye from his mother, and brief farewells from both his brother, father, and other associated members of the household, to head over to the challenge fields.

Although he knew that the senior males of his family would follow, for traditionally all of them would have to present at the trials, it was similarly part of the ritual that the sons taking part in the trials would make the final walk on their own. It was designed to allow the supplicant to reflect on the fact that they were literally stepping away from the comforts of the hearth at their birth home, to take their first entry into what they hoped would be adult life as full members of the tribe.

Thus went Olvar, in his leathers, along the winding path through the woods that led into the more heavily built up part of their village. The field laid further away, beyond the trees that darkened the path he took, moving slowly yet with determination. Anyone watching him pass would've noted his contemplative gaze, and the stern angle of his tail, kept carefully under check so that he would not reveal too much of his deepest feelings. The conduct of the village's youth during the time of the trials was something that was to be remembered, and could weigh upon someone's reputation for years to come, even with the most favorable outcome on the challenges themselves.

Those spying upon the young wolf would defer in respect, and Olvar knew as much. Hence the voice he heard shouting upon him signalled trouble by its very tone, not only by its owner.

The wolf was brilliantly white in his tone, a sign of great breeding to ensure the purity of such a coat that made wolves of the same color wonderful hunters and warriors during the long winter months when it offered them exquisite camouflage. During the rest of the time, they simply stood out, and carried a kind of a mystery about them, which likely had contributed to the fact that the great Kuruk had taken the position of the leader of the wolf tribe.

The smug smile upon the muzzle of Braum, the Alpha's son, spoke as much as the words he slurred from his tongue.

"Why, the runt, isn't it?" spoke the white wolf.

His smirk only broadened when they came into speaking distance, two wolves sizing each other up.

Olvar wouldn't let such simple picking to get under his furs. He'd grown up hearing such jabs from the other, more senior sons of the important families in the tribe. Sometimes the arguments had gotten physical as well, and led into blackened eye sockets and a sore, stomped on tail on more than one individual, Olvar himself included.

"I am in a hurry," Olvar spoke his brief reply. "You wish to talk, you talk later."

The white wolf's cocky smirk turned even dirtier than before.

"Oh, yes...I shall look forward to it when I speak, and you listen...and you will only speak when told to..." Braum suggested.

Olvar's body tensed, but he kept himself under control. It would not do him well to begin the day with a tussle with the son of the Alpha of the tribe of all furs.

"You foresee a poor future for me," he noted.

He wanted to go on, to walk towards the valley again, but with the white wolf trailing him, he did not intend to reveal his back for Braum. He wouldn't put it past him to pounce him and make sure that he would be too sore to do anything properly during his own upcoming trial.

"I hear Kariun has volunteered to serve as a challenger the trials," the white wolf said.

That did give Olvar a pause. He knew that the Alpha had the freedom to appoint any members of the tribe to serve as the challengers, the men of either great strength or wisdom that all aspiring youths had to face in order to prove their skills and worth. To name someone like Kariun to take part as a challenger made it sound more than intimidating. The great wolf warrior was one of the tribe's most trusted and celebrated hunters. He and had kept them eating through even poor times of game migration, not to mention his infamous deeds during their campaign against the tribe of antlerheads, to the direction where the sun set.

"I heard no such things," Olvar spoke to his verbal pest.

"Well now you did," grinned the white wolf, lazily. "And I hope that you've been good with your chores...I hear Flytan has room for another apprentice, and you know what happens to runts like you who can't make the trials..."

Olvar bared his teeth at such a remark. Flytan was the village basketmaker, a grizzled old wolf with an oversized belly and paws that had likely never gored on prey or enemy, but which moved at remarkable swiftness while he made baskets. He apprenticed many youths who kept up his trade, and doing the somewhat menial, unglamorous work was seen as not something suitable for truly strong, significant male members of the tribe. To even suggest that someone from an important family like Olvar's was only good for winding lengths of wicker about one another was nothing short of a great insult, and might've been worthy of a tussle under different circumstances.

The wolf did not want Braum to see his displeasure, however. The white wolf was in need of a lesson, and Olvar was sure that the whelp would get what was coming for him later on.

"Perhaps that would suit a delicate thing like you," spoke Olvar, confidently, "I intend to pursue a greater profession, myself."

He saw the displeased glint in the white wolf's eyes, and felt a measure of pleasure for this successful retort. He did not intend to let it escalate further, however, but continued on his way towards the village, with the white wolf in tow.

"With your pads bloodied from pulling the reeds up for drying!" the white wolf painted another picture of the terrible fate of menial labor he envisioned for the smaller male.

"Hmmm..." rumbled Olvar.

"And the ladies...who's gonna want the cubs of someone who makes ladies' items?" Braum truly seemed to think that it was the worst fate imaginable.

"Hmpph...why haven't you got one yet?" spoke Olvar.

Braum's white ears flattened to his skull.

"Because none of suitable breeding has yet come my way!" he hollered.

They had reached the actual outskirts of the village, and with people mulling about, the risk of an actual physical assault seemed to have lessened, or so Olvar felt, continuing on his way towards the keep that formed the centerpiece of the village.

It was initially built many generations ago, and maintained since. The sturdy walls made of wood, tree trunks and rock had protected them from raiders and beasts alike, under the guidance of a great leading Alpha. The poles rose at regular intervals above the stone and earth ramparts, held skulls, some belonging to beats, some to even more vile enemies whose fate had been to serve as warning ornaments once their heads had departed from their shoulders.

Even from afar, the sound of the drums being played made his ears dance along to the ancient tune, calling for the spoken men of the tribe to lay down their work and make their way into the keep, for the ritual of the challenge and the trials. Olvar saw some, walking with their cloaks, fathers with their sons, entire families, leaving their mates to the doorways of huts and houses, watching as they departed into the distance.

The young wolf shared a smile of recognition with a few, and got some in return, trying to keep his mood high despite the tension that might've burst into outright terror should he have not kept himself in check. Olvar's thoughts travelled back to the advice his father had given to him, ranging from notes on combat technique to simple ways to reduce his anxiety. His nerves could barely take the wait, and even with time now running out, the prospect of waiting for his own turn gnawed on the back of his mind.

The very air seemed to vibrate with the collective tension, of the dozens of eyes taking in the sight of everyone entering onto the courtyard of the keep. The youth who wished to take on the challenge of adulthood were to remain in their own niche, off to the side so that the crowds could watch them throughout, weight them in their own minds, perhaps, before their turns came.

The others came and took their own positions - hunters, traders, the artisans, each seated where they were accustomed to remain, as per the custom of the tribe. The Elders were to be found there as well, on their own bench that faced the singular entrance into the Keep, so that they could observe everyone entering.

The drums thrummed all the way until the Alpha stepped forward.

The Alpha did not need a musical accompaniment to impress. Bedecked in furs and the antlers of his enemies, the white wolf stood tall, proud, and haughty, obviously enjoying the din of admiration that crossed the gathered audiences of the men of the tribe in the keep. The Alpha made his way onto the center of the square, trailed by his guards and his son, Braum, who smiled smugly at the prospect of basking in his father's glory.

"The challenge!" barked the great white Alpha to the hushed crowd.

"THE CHALLENGE!" concerted the crowd.

"These boys stand before us, hoping to become men!" the Alpha gestured at the small group, standing off to the side and separate from the rest, in a limbo between their adolescence and adulthood in the eyes of the tribe.

The crowd cheered.

"May the gods look after them as they seek the fulfill the traditions of our people!" bellowed Kuruk.

"GODS BE PRAISED!"

Thus spoke the Alpha of the wolf tribe, before he retired to his own reserved seating with his entourage, and settled in to enjoy the festivities. Seven youth were to test their strength and skill, which meant that the events would run until darkness fell to the forest, and torchlight replaced the sun to illuminate the Keep.

"STEP FORWARD, OLVAR, SON OF RILTAK, THE SON OF DJURT!"

Three of the youth of the village had gone through their trials before Olvar was called to make his own stand in front of his peers. The young wolf stepped onto the center of the yard, walking as confidently as he could even if his feet felt heavy as stone from the nervousness none of his mental preparation could have fully eliminated it. Every eyes was on him, ranging from the confident, if concerned support of his father and his brother, in their own section of the stands, or the curiosity of the crowds, or the smug determination of Braum to see Olvar become a true runt of the tribe, nothing more than an errand boy, as the white wolf youth had proposed.

Perhaps it was a true danger as well. Off to either side of the Alpha stood Kariun, the mighty warrior, and Laukoma, the shaman of the tribe and known for his wisdom. It was their responsibility to test the applicants in both strength and wits, as per their request, and upon these encounters the elders of the tribe could make the decision whether the youths taking up the challenge had deemed themselves worthy. To test their mantle with two such esteemed wolves was a great task indeed...and this Olvar faced now, standing there in front of the crowd, his head held high, yet feeling small standing at the center of the Keep.

"You have requested to take part in the trials," spoke the Alpha Kuruk, using the ritual words," in which way do you ask to be tested, to be seen whether you are ready to be a full member of our people? Shall it be strength, or wit?"

Kuruk might have been speaking, but it was his son who caught Olvar's attention. The wolf smirked while looking over across the space between them, likely already thinking of the possibilities for endless humiliation in regards to the so-called runt - starting with the public disgrace of the trials the white wolf seemed to envision.

The wolf swallowed.

"I choose to challenge neither!" he barked out.

The tribe was shocked into disbelief. Could it be possible that the son of the great warrior and tribesman Riltak would so readily denounce his chance for the trials even without giving it a proper try. How could have Riltak raised such a creature, in the hems of his fine mate and with the example of his elder brother and his father to accompany him throughout his formative years?

The Alpha remained stern, even if the others about them were gawking. It did not fit his rank to show such emotion, and he stayed a stoic figure in his decorative, ceremonial cape. It was very difficult to read anything that might have been going in his mind.

His son appeared victorious.

Olvar did not dare to look at his own family. He knew that he would have seen such utter shock and possibly disappointment in their faces that his own resolution might have cracked under such duress.

"Explain yourself, son of Riltak!" boomed the Alpha. "You have a chance to make this choice only once!

"I CHOOSE NEITHER!" Olvar's voice became louder. "I TAKE THE ALPHA'S CHALLENGE!"

There was a momentary silence that was followed by a true wall of murmurs breaking from the gathered crowd. Olvar dared a look over to his own family's section, where his father was staring with wide eyes. His brother Ranbor, a proud warrior in his own right, appeared completely shocked, like many others were in the circle surrounding the courtyard. Such words had not been heard in the trials in living memory, they must have thought, and now the young man had come up and spoken such things...was it that they had heard right? Heads were pushed together all through the crowd while they contemplated such a possibility.

"I TAKE THE ALPHA'S CHALLENGE AND I STAND TRUE!" Olvar yelled once again. "I HAVE THE RIGHT!"

He might have had the right, according to the tribe's ancient traditions that went back many generations, yet whether there was any sense in enacting such a thing was something that certainly made his fellow tribesmen to question the young man's sanity. The Alpha's challenge was nothing less than how Alphas were made...by having fledging leaders express their wish that they wanted to try and beat the current leader in a challenge, hence showing that one reign should come to an end while another was to start. To have something like that happen in the trials for the youths... nobody could even remember if anyone had ever been as foolhardy.

"You speak very serious words, son," the Alpha addressed Olvar again, seemingly calm, yet his mild frown spoke of his own apprehension. It was not a face of fear, yet one of true consternation about the possibility of having to fight a promising youth who might have had a good future ahead of him, had he not decided to challenge the Alpha himself. Anyone losing such a challenge was destined to serve the rest of the tribe as the lowest of the low, a subject of ridicule, if nothing more.

"I speak my true words," said Olvar in his reply. "I wish to use my right to challenge the Alpha, and nobody else, to prove my worth."

The Alpha wolf's frown deepened.

"And you understand that when you fail, you eschew your right for membership in this council of your peers - " the Alpha gestured upon the gathered, tumultuous mass of men around them, "that you face an uncertain future among us, known just for your challenge?"

Once again, Olvar did not dare to look at his own father, whom might have been already trying to summon plans on how his son could escape such fate, after speaking up a challenge to the Alpha's very authority.

"I know the full meaning of this challenge, and I stand by it," Olvar said.

Again, the crowd muttered.

The Alpha barked out, and there was silence once more.

"You have heard him!" he pointed his large paw at the youth standing in front of him. "He wishes to test his merit with me!"

There were a few yells from the audience, derisive, even. The Alpha did not listen to them. His attention was entirely in the enigmatic youth in front of him. Whatever could've been going on in his mind, even the wise older male couldn't tell. To him he looked like anyone else in such a situation, except that the circumstances had turned most extraordinary due to a few simple words.

Now it would be time for action.

"Speak then, son of Riltak," the Alpha rumbled on. "It is your challenge to make."

For that stood true as well - the one making such a challenge to the Alpha was entitled to name the manner in which they were tested, considering that after all the whole concept of the Alpha's challenge did stand on the fact that someone wished to proof that their prowess in one given skill or art surpassed that of the standing leader of the tribe.

"I wish to do the hunter's knot challenge!" Olvar announced.

Someone in the audience let out a guffaw of sheer laughter.

Olvar bowed his head, briefly.

"Your skills as a hunter are the stuff of tales and songs, Alpha," the young wolf continued, "I wish the hunter's knot challenge!"

The waves of murmured conversation once again ripples across the gathered men. The Alpha simply looked at the boy who dared to make such declarations on him. It took him only a moment before he nodded his head, sharply, and began to undo his cloak which was then offered for the silent, hulking Kariun to hold while the Alpha got rid of the garment that would have impeded his movement.

He stepped forward onto the middle of the yard within the keep, every single pair of eyes upon them two, especially the magnificent while wolf answering the challenge of one of the youngest members of the tribe.

"We shall play the challenge as it was played in my youth, and as I know it," the Alpha stated.

Olvar nodded in his own turn.

"As the one who has been challenged, Alpha, that is your rightful choice," he spoke, respectfully, he hoped, yet loud enough that everyone had to hear it.

The Alpha barked out.

"Bring us two times ten lengths of hunter's rope the length of a good arm!" the white wolf commanded. "Ten for each of us!"

The two wolves stood still, one young and one old, sizing each other up while the supplies for their challenge game were fetched by responsible parties. Neither of them was keen to speak in this interim, with the air so heavily charged and both of them considering the task at paw. A few voices in the crowd pledged fealty for the Alpha while others decided to heckle the youth who had decided to take onto the great white wolf leader of the tribe.

"SHOW HIM HIS PLACE, ALPHA!"

"GIVE HIM MISERY!"

"KICK HIS TAIL, ALPHA!"

The voices silenced once two hunters arrived, paws loaded with the ropes the Alpha had requested. The white wolf inspected them carefully, each of them to ensure that they were of even length and quality, before nodding his approval.

"As the defending party - " the white wolf announced, causing a few chuckles from the crowd. The whole situation seemed to amuse several of them, if only for the prospect of seeing the young wolf get a true lesson in wolfhood from the big, strong Alpha. Though not known for particular cruelty, every member of the tribe knew that no leader would ever take any challenge to their authority lightly.

" - I am entitled to request you to take the first turn," the Alpha said.

The young wolf's tail swished in an obvious sign of nervousness that attracted only further jeers from the audience. That'd show him right, they must've thought, show the kid what he'd gotten himself into.

Olvar simply nodded, in determination.

"I accept your request, Alpha," the wolf replied to the suggestion. "I am ready."

"No you're not," the Alpha spoke quiet enough that the crowd couldn't hear his words, aimed at the young male in front of him. "TIME FOR THE ROPES!"

The crowd cheered, now that the Alpha was about to show his skills in the full view of everyone - a rare privilege for those who had not accompanied him on his hunting trips.

"Ten ropes!" the Alpha yelled. "Ten ropes...tied like prey, and then left to release himself!"

The crowd jeered.

"Laukoma!" the Alpha barked.

"Yes, Alpha?" the shaman demurred to him quietly.

"Prepare your water clock to take the time!"

"I shall, Alpha," the grizzled wolf nodded.

The Alpha turned to face the boy.

"Paws behind your back, against your hips, and apart, and turn your back to me," he spoke in his most authoritative tone.

Someone in the audience whistled. The sight of being tied with ropes in public by the very Alpha of the tribe was a spectacle that they were enjoying, and throwing their jeers and leers at the young wolf was the least they thought Olvar would deserve for his behavior in regards to being such a snotty youth and trying to speak up and challenge the Alpha of all men in the tribe. Had it been anyone else, the humiliation wouldn't have been quite as sweet as now that the boy was to be worked over by the bigger, older male.

Olvar's ears and tail revealed his anxiety, when more and more rope was wound around him, multiply braided and tied into knots that tightened the ropes securely about the young man's limbs. His arms were tied tightly behind his back, before he was ordered down to the ground on his knees, and the same treatment connected his footpaws together, and another length of rope bound the youth's arms to his knees, under both of them to join them. The result was that ended up with his muzzle against the ground, all limbs tied together, and with almost no freedom of motion left in his body. The ropes were so tight about his chest that he could barely breathe in the uncomfortable position that ensued.

"He is tied!" the Alpha called. "Are you ready, shaman?"

"I am!" answered the wolf.

"Let the challenge of the knots begin!"

There was a burst of cheers, yet once they calmed down, no further commotion happened. They were to witness the victory of the Alpha, after all, and that commanded respect from his subjects, the sight of the young male writhing in his bondage in the feeble hope that he could free himself.

Nearby, the shaman mostly kept his attention in a tall clay cup. Its interior had been marked with grooves on the lining that were at regular intervals, and upon the Alpha's announcement he had pulled a small wooden plug away on the bottom so that the water could drip out of the cup along a reef at a regular rate. This was the way how time was measured now, during the trial, to see which of the two participants in the hunter's knot challenge could release himself from the ties of the other faster, and hence the one with best skills with tying ropes could be found.

The Alpha remained standing close by, to watch how Olvar rolled on the ground. The young wolf moved into all directions, wiggling his arms, wrists, feet, even his tail, and he made a great smear of the packed earth that served as the floor on the center of the keep. The simple leathers he wore were bound to look wholly disrespectable by the time he would be done with the ropes, although once the shaman Laukoma announced that the first cup had been drained, this seemed like a distant prospect.

The white wolf did not speak .He simply looked down at the wolf, whose eyes still seemed jittery and anxious, and did not meet the Alpha's for a very long time.

Olvar was too busy shuffling his head from side to side instead.

"The second cup!" called the Shaman.

"GIVE UP!" someone already opined, from the crowd.

"Silence!" the Alpha grumbled. "Everyone deserves equal...opportunity."

It came off as the sneer it was, and he glanced down at the bound wolf, with a small smirk on his muzzle now.

"Hmmm."

Olvar barely registered what went on about him. He was too concentrated on trying to rid his way out of the numerous ropes that trapped him bent onto his own body.

His shoulders were the first body part to gain any proper movement, which helped with the rest...with him rolling about to ground once again, to his side, when the shaman called the third cup having been expended.

"JUST GIVE UP ALREADY!"

Olvar imagined it could've been Braum making that jeer at him. If he closed his eyes he could have seen the wolf's face, already grinning at the prospect of Olvar having to report for the basketmaker in the morning to begin his life of drudgery. Such a thought of a potential future would've been enough to make anyone try to break free of their bondage in the hopes of avoiding that kind of a fate.

"Fourth cup!"

To the young wolf and his onlookers, it appeared that his hopes of securing a brighter future by at least giving a gallant attempt on the knot tie challenge were flowing away just like the water from the shaman's cup. He was sweaty, dirty, and with abrasions on his skin from the ropes that had been pulled tight on him.

"Fifth cup!"

He was already panting with exhaustion, and squirming desperately under the heavy gaze of not only the Alpha but the rest of the tribe as well. Just how disappointed his father and his brother were...how could they explain this to Olvar's mother?

"Sixth cup!"

By the time the seventh cup ran dry, Olvar was a pitiful sight. He was sweaty, dirty, and his clothes had been reduced mostly into tatters...but the ropes had finally loosened enough that he had managed to free his left arm. That made it much easier for him to work the ropes. He did not get encouragement from the tribe, even at this point, for they appeared convinced that even if he managed to get himself free, he would still end up being on the mercy of the Alpha and any kind of leniency he might feel for the so-called runt.

It was midway into the eight cup that Olvar finally struggled his legs free and stood up, panting and holding onto a tangle of ropes in one paw that hung down all the way to the crowd.

"I have...succeeded," he breathed out.

The Alpha shook his head thoughtfully.

"Shaman?" he called out.

"Seven and a half cups!" Laukoma replied.

Laughter. Pointing and stomping at the dirty wolf whom looked especially pathetic next to the shiny white, all-powerful Alpha whom now held the boy's future in his paws.

"Did you hear that, Olvar, son of Riltak?" the Alpha spoke loudly.

"Yes," Olvar said, tossing the still knotted ropes down to the ground. "I accept that as my performance in the trial, and now...now I'm ready for the second challenge."

"You may still defer, if you are wise," the Alpha said, "you might plead for the leniency of your peers."

The jeers told what their opinion would be. Dead silence emanated from the corner of the yard where Olvar's family and their close supporters and kin awaited, surely as nervous and wracked as the wolf himself whom stood there by the Alpha, his obvious victor.

"No," the young wolf spoke up, "I shall...continue the challenge as...it is meant to play."

"You...wish not to stop?" the Alpha spoke again.

"I want ten ropes!" Olvar replied.

The Alpha bared his teeth momentarily, with a growl coming from his throat. The crowd cheered for him again, although a few jeered when one of the Alpha's guards brought Olvar the lengths of rope that he was to use in his half of the challenge. The young wolf only inspected them briefly, not as thoroughly as the Alpha had done before in his desire to make a proper show out of it all.

"They are adequate," Olvar spoke up, though his voice could not hope to carry with the same depth and strength as that of the taller wolf still standing next to him.

"So the challenge shall begin," the Alpha muttered. "Do your...best."

"As a member of your tribe, Alpha, I would do nothing less," Olvar said.

Now he could definitely see the evil smirk on Braum's lips, standing next to the hulking form of Kariun, the great hunter-warrior. He still held the bright red cloak belonging to the Alpha, complete with its trophy antlers the huge dark wolf handled with care.

"If you would...lie down..." Olvar stated. "On your back."

The white wolf smirked.

"That used to be called the grunting position in my day," he whispered. "It is much easier to get out of than the hog tie..."

"I...I know the game," Olvar replied, as he picked the first rope.

Compared to the Alpha's intricate work, Olvar's paws moved with much less grace while he wound rope, made knots and tightened loops of thread about limbs that were immensely more powerful and muscled than his own.

The Alpha was truly a magnificent figure of manhood, whom had not let himself go with age. He could've easily beaten a man the size of Kariun, and likely dealt with half a dozen of young men like Olvar was, now struggling to tie each of the white wolf's legs up against his chest so that they connected with the wolf's arms.

The Alpha ended up bent up over himself, really, but seemed nonplussed by the situation, even witnessed by his subjects. He did not speak, which Olvar took as a sign of either finding the situation too amusing to risk speaking should be burst into laughter, or he was simply observing where Olvar was making his knots, for the easiest way to get rid of them when it came the time to start the timed portion of the challenge. There certainly were many of them, entire tangles where the frowning young wolf had concentrated on trying to ensure that the Alpha wouldn't get himself free quite as quickly as the crowd seemed to expect.

Olvar knew that it was time to ask the gods that oversaw them for a miracle.

The last rope done, Olvar sounded as breathless as he had been after his own feeble attempt to escape from the Alpha's expert work. The man on the ground appeared perfectly calm, simply waiting to begin what he knew the crowd expected to be a great performance.

"I...hope this will be quick, Alpha," Olvar spoke softly, quietly.

"Do not expect me to show you leniency, boy," the Alpha hissed. "You brought this on yourself."

Olvar's ears flattened.

"No...you did," he said, "begin the challenge!"

The jeers of the audience fell silent at this announcement, surprisingly loud from the young wolf. Olvar looked over at the stoic shaman, and nodded.

"Start the run," he affirmed his resolution against.

The shaman unplugged his first refilled cup and the water began to dribble away.

"It has begun!" the shaman called.

The crow immediately cheered and began to yell and bark their encouragement for their Alpha's escape from Olvar's amateurish bondage. The wolf boy could already hear the ropes creaking under duress when the great white wolf tested the strength of the bindings by flexing his body. Unlike Olvar before, he was not rolling on the floor or wriggling, he simply breathed rhythmically, concentrating to the sensations of the ropes pressing down on him from all sides, seeking weak spots where to concentrate his assault on.

"SHOW HIM YOUR STRENGTH, ALPHA!" a voice among the gathered men hollered.

"BRING DOWN THE HOUSE OF RILTAK!"

"GIVE HIM HELL, ALPHA!"

Olvar listened to the jeers for only a moment further. He did not dare to wait any longer, even if his stomach felt it would burst from the nervous sensations that made it difficult for him to stand still in place, near the Alpha.

"For everything you have done to my House," Olvar hissed.

The deeply concentrating white wolf's ears swiveled at the sound of the young wolf's words, so full of vitriol that might have even seemed uncharacteristic for someone who appeared to be slight of bodily making and potentially also of a feeble mind, if judged by the kind of a spectacle he had already staged in the trials.

The Alpha twisted his elbows, and the ropes made audible creaking noises when he pulled on them.

"You little - "

Olvar moved swiftly.

"Those ropes may have lots of knots, but I've got one more just for you," the young wolf growled.

The wolf's claws tore into the fur breeches the Alpha wore as his sole garment besides the cloak he had relinquished for his guard before. The white wolf's eyes flashed with anger and surprise at this move, and his heavy tail slapped against Olvar's arms, trying to smack him away even as he attempted a kick. The ropes wound from under his knees to his wrists prevented his footpad from moving more than a couple of inches, and hence the younger wolf ducked the hit.

The onlookers immediately began to protest as well. It appeared to them that the boy had taken it to himself to disturb the Alpha's part of the challenge by attacking him, and they made it known with their yells as well.

"OUTRAGE!"

"STOP HIM!"

"HE HAS FAILED THE TRIAL!"

"GET OFF HIM YOU IDIOT!"

"YOU'RE RUINING EVERYTHING!"

The numerous yells became but a rustle in Olvar's ears, like the sound of wind ruffling through a forest in the winter when the trees were covered in snow and nothing could pass without being seen by the marks it made on the whitebound ground. He could only concentrate on what laid in front of him, the Alpha in his bound state, and the ripped cloth under his palms.

He tore again, and the right leg of the breeches came apart in a seam with a loud ripping noise. Olvar immediately thrust his paws into the tear in the garment and pulled so that he effectively disrobed the Alpha from everything he was wearing at the time. The white wolf's tail swept along the dark ground, and he was truly moving now, almost using the same technique Olvar did in his own attempt to release him from the bondage.

"For my father and his father, my brother, my house..." the wolf almost chanted, as he tore onto the wolf's clothing. "I LAY CLAIM!"

The last words he shouted, from the top of his lungs and in such a shrill voice that it hurt his throat and his ears flattened.

His own clothes were in such a state that it took very little effort for him to pull his own leathers away and expose himself for the shocked audience.

"Crough!"

Olvar's panting had filled his muzzle with runny saliva, and he hocked up a prodigious quantity onto his palm

"Claim for your fucking white ass!" Olvar snarled when he slathered the runny spittle all over himself.

"What - "

He slapped his hand down onto the base of the Alpha's thrashing tail and spread some of the goop onto the bare flesh revealed there.

"SOMEONE STOP HIM!" a voice yelled in the audience, Olvar could hear, in his ears that were almost deafened by the blood rushing through them.

"Nobody can stop me now," Olvar growled.

He grabbed the temporarily helpless wolf's white-furred calves, strapped with the ropes that still bound them, and shoved his hard, slimy prick against the Alpha's asshole.

"Agh!" the white wolf yelped.

Olvar bit his lip and thrust, without giving anyone a moment's a chance for a respite when he took his challenge against the Alpha to a brand new level. He pushed powerfully against the reluctant hole, and his blunt tip prodded onto it, seeking entry. There was so much saliva that he even slipped, momentarily, through a couple of humping motions that missed their ultimate mark.

"Shit," Olvar growled.

He had to move his paw, to grip his shaft so that he could steady himself and apply more of his weight in his attempt at piercing into the growling, hissing wolf's ass.

"SOMEONE DO SOMETHING!"

"STOP THE WHELP! HE'S RAPING THE ALPHA!"

Olvar glared down at the wolf underneath him with a twisted grin over his lips.

"NOT A RAPE!" he shouted again. "A CLAIM! HE'S BEEN WON IN A CHALLENGE OF WIT!"

Still he pushed, trying to force himself through the resistance of the Alpha's squirming body.

"HE ALLOWED HIMSELF LAID BARE LIKE THIS!" Olvar continued his verbal warfare towards the crowd that was now after his hide, he could feel, amidst everything else. "HE HAS BEEN OUTWITTED!"

More stringent measures were required, the wolf felt. To really drive the point home, to the audience, to the wolf underneath him as well, Olvar grabbed the white wolf's huge nuts and twisted them in his paw.

"WOOOOOOOHHHLLLLLL!" the white wolf howled, in surprise, pain, terror, a loud noise that scared birds off their perches upon trees surrounding the keep.

The grey wolf's cock found its mark and slammed deep into the Alpha's ass, no holds barred when he put his weight into it and let his strength do everything negotiation and gentleness could have done under any other circumstances but now.

"SOMEONE GET HIM OFF HIM!"

Olvar was sure that the voice, shrill with terror, had to belong to Braum, the Alpha's son who was now forced to witness his father being impaled on a much younger male's cock in the full view of every mature member of the tribe.

The very thought encouraged him to grip the white wolf's legs tighter, and thrust his hips back and forth, drive himself in in an attempt to stretch the wolf's rear even further now that he'd thrust his way into the Alpha's barely slickened hole. The muscles clenched, likely in agony, Olvar thought, but he did not care. The primal instinct in such a situation, not only because of the reluctant, deep heat surrounding him that was encouraging him to fuck and breed the hole, but the utter sense of power he felt on that moment, something he had never had the chance to savor as the youngest member of his family, let alone such a junior force in the functioning of the entire tribe.

No more grumbling for past times of glory, he thought, no more humiliation in the paws of the House of Kuruk.

"Graaaaaaaaah!"

The Alpha trashed so much about his bindings that he almost managed to throw off Olvar, whom had to grip with his full strength so as not to be unseated from his victorious position, cock sunken into the hole he had won with a bit of possibly dastardly trickery, but he knew that on the level of a thought, it was an impeccable plan.

"Not so easily, slut," Olvar growled before he spat onto the Alpha's face.

"I'M GOING TO TEAR HIS FUCKING TONGUE OFF HIS MOUTH BEFORE I TEAR OFF HIS COCK AND FEED IT TO HIM!"

The yelling of Braum reached Olvar's eyes, but he did not move his own gaze away from the eyes of the Alpha, wide open and gawking at what was happening to him, the claiming of his body that was happening at this very moment by the male he'd once called whelp, and whom had been ridiculed up until the moment he had revealed his true colors to the tribal folk.

"Y-you' reg - "

The young wolf jabbed his hips forward, and the Alpha's threat slurred away into a kind of a low growl that left from his throat, his lips cracked open. Olvar felt the Alpha's tunnel squeeze down on him in a way that was different from the kind of flexing movement it'd been doing before in an attempt to expel him.

Now it was doing something else completely.

"Eghrr..."

Olvar could barely believe it himself, too, yet it was true. The Alpha's sheath grew thick even though the forced buggery, and his cock started to peek through over the lip of the fold of skin that usually protected his manhood.

He only began to fuck the wolf harder, upon this realization.

"You...like it like a bitch!" Olvar growled.

It would've been a terrible thing to say to any upstanding member of the tribe, let alone the very Alpha. Breeding a man's tailhole was not an unknown way of showing dominance or even simply to have a pleasurable time, when it came to the habits of the tribe, passed along the many generations. The position of the one receiving a hard cock up their ass was seen as something that was embarrassing and immature at best, and simply disgraceful at worst.

"Yeah...big, strong Alpha...taking it up the ass...and liking it...HE'S LIKING IT!" Olvar yelled. "EVERYONE FUCKING SEE HE'S ENJOYING IT! PROVING HE'S NOT WORTHY OF HIS PLACE!"

Now he was going to put the white wolf in his place, the youth thought darkly, and continued to thrust hard into the hole that was becoming more and more slick with every passing moment, when his juice oozed into the rear with the throbbing of his hard member expelling it within the humiliated Alpha's rump.

"First cup!"

Olvar couldn't believe that the shaman would still be keeping time even amidst this commotion.

"SOMEONE - "

"OH SHUT UP, YOU FOOL!"

That sounded like Olvar's father, Riltak, at least to the youth who was mostly concerned with the sight of the Alpha's cock growing bigger and harder, and expanding over his creamy belly furs. It looked obscene, bulging out of its sheath and throbbing.

"You hear that...they're seeing that you're done," Olvar hissed hotly.

The youth's rough words seemed to be the last straw. Now the white wolf struggled again, trying to remove the grey wolf from his person and to free himself before everything was to be lost. The downside to his jerking motion was that it actually caused Olvar's cock to press even deeper into his hole. The wolfcock churned the Alpha's insides and poked and prodded, stretching his achy ring until -

"GRaaaaaaaaaHH!"

The wolf's spine curved, his eyes growing huge when his body was suddenly overtaken by the sensations from his never-before filled ass. His muscles convulsed, and his thick cock throbbing against his belly jerked, rising up from his stomach when a long, hot pearly stream splashed out of him.

"F-FUCK!" yelped Olvar. The heat from the hole clenching down on him felt better than anything he had felt before, combined with the smell of the Alpha's anger, fear, and on top of that, the deep musk of the cum that splattered his body from his belly to his neck while he spent himself from the sheer sensation of having something pumping him deep in the ass.

Then it was truly quiet, in the crowd, watching the Alpha - and the runt - staring at the copious seed that now dribbled over the white wolf's furs. None of them seemed more surprised than the Alpha, eyes fixed on the sight of his straining cock oozing out another musky glob of seed.

Olvar smirked.

"Well...looks like the bitch really gets off on getting FUCKED!"

He gripped the Alpha's splayed legs and returned to his earlier humping. He thrust as hard as he could, with all the enthusiasm of youth and mixed with the extreme antipathy he felt towards the white wolf and his family.

The payback, he thought, couldn't have been any sweeter than the reveal that he had shown to the entire tribe that their Alpha was secretly a big pussy who liked nothing better than getting it up his ass.

"You know it's gonna be everything you're doing from now on...fucker...raising that white tail of yours for anyone who wants to stuff their cock in your fucking shithole!" Olvar drawled while he hunched over the wolf, his muzzle leaking saliva that mixed with the congealing cum that speckled the wolf's fur into wet clumps in places.

He thrust hard, not knowing that every push of his cock into the white wolf's ass rubbed against that hidden, swollen spot there that had no name for his tribe's people, but whose existence was whispered about. Whatever it could've been called, "uuuuhhhh" seemed a possibility, considering the noises the white wolf made while he was constantly reamed.

"That what your hunting trips are for?" Olvar growled. "You bent over a fallen tree while every man in your party FUCKS your sloppy ass like a whore after too much mead..."

He spat onto the white wolf's face again.

"You know that, WHORE?!"

The furious pounding of an angry wolf against Kuruk's ass, fully engorged knot and all throbbing against his hole, made the white wolf spew his seed again, from the pressure inside his rump - and perhaps from the humiliation of the situation as well, the crowd might have thought, watching the lewd display in quiet shock. Gone were the leers now, replaced by gasps of shock when the Alpha of the tribe submitted once again fully to the boy half his age and nearly half his size as well.

"Thhheeere..." drawled the wolf, "show everyone what a slut you are for cock...your mate will never look at you again knowing what a bitch you are for other males!"

By the sounds of it, Olvar took special pleasure in speaking the next words.

"And do you think your son can be a hunter after they find out that he was sired by the same spunk that comes out of you when you get it in the ass...he's probably just like you..."

The broken Alpha looked incredibly embarrassed at such words, and Olvar could hear muffled growls and yelling from the crowd as well. Should he have turned his eyes away from the white wolf's face, he would have seen the quite delicious sight of the Alpha's son Braum pushed down to the ground, with several sturdy warriors and hunters practically sitting on top of the white wolf in an attempt of stopping him from lunging into his father's help, or at Olvar's kin whom observed the spectacled from the other side of the courtyard.

Olvar's mind was too clouded by his lust for sex, power and retribution to care much for what was happening around him. He was only concentrated on thrusting his cock into the white wolf's ass, hard enough that his balls slapped resoundingly onto the white-furred ass smeared with the loose earth from the yard where the Alpha had desperately tried to kick himself free. Here and there, droplets of cum mingled with the ground and created an even mustier a scent that hung heavily in the sweaty air between the two males rutting out in the open.

"Your sweet pussy will be fucked until it'll be always wide open...anyone will be able to see how the Alpha has fallen..." panted Olvar, biting his lip, "you'll be the...gods-damned....fucking...bitch to anyone who can get it UP!"

His growing knot pounded ruthlessly against the Alpha's asshole, certainly not as big as the bulge of meat on the white wolf's own twice-discharged dick, but still something impressive enough that when Olvar let out his dominant howl and shoved it in to the hilt, the Alpha's eyes flew open and he groaned, growled, and practically mewled when the relatively huge piece of flesh spread him over even wider.

"That's...right...feel the m-meat breed you..."

His thrusts were so violent that the bulging knot began to make its way through the Alpha's hole. The thickening on the shaft made the white wolf's opening spread even more every time it popped in, for just half a second before Olvar pulled it roughly out the same way it'd come from, to the same expansive effect on the Alpha whose eyes kept rolling and his toes splayed when the punch-like blast of pleasure filled his ass.

They made a strange duet, for a few seconds, the wolves howling and yelling, both for their own reasons. Olvar's was one of victory and rapture, the white wolf's something that did not even have words for it, but enough to cast through the slowly darkening air.

"Nhhghhuyeah..."

The burning heat of the male's overstuffed rear was more than Olvar could handle at the moment, not in the heat of the fight that had taken place on the dirty ground of the village keep. His balls drew up to his groin and he blasted away his seed into the Alpha's never-before-bred rear. Shocks of liquid heat flowed, and they seemed to trigger yet another humiliating defeat for the white wolf as well. The burning in Kuruk's ass intensified, and so did the throbbing of his cock which once again began to expel creamy cum all over the stark-furred male's belly and chest, and running onto his neck.

"Yeah...that's how they're gonna see you from now on...splattered with juice..." Olvar growled.

The crowd began to make more noise again, as if they had sensed that the display of utter dominance had come to an end. While Olvar looked about with his sweaty eyes, he could see that especially the side of the yard where Kuruk's own house loyalists stood was getting restless.

"Shaman!" Olvar yelled.

The grizzled wolf stepped forward, having forgotten his water clocks somewhere along the way when he too had been taken by the display.

"Yes...son of Riltak?" Laukoma's voice sounded much more respectful than before when he directed his words at the young wolf whom still was tied by the balls to the much older, much larger white male.

"You know the law of the tribe, you are the eldest," Olvar stated, "is that so?"

The wolf nodded, after a moment of deliberation.

"That is the honor that has been given to me, son of Riltak," Laukoma replied.

"So tell them, shaman," said Olvar," tell them that the challenge has been taken...and won...by wit...against the Alpha himself!"

A few voices of protest roused from among the loyalists, but the Shaman only had to clear his throat to bring an end to it. Such was the respect he too commanded, among his kind.

"The trials must be won by strength or wit...and...the son of Riltak has displayed both by...by his claim on the Alpha..."

" - and what does our law speak about the Alpha and his duties?"

That was Riltak himself, splendid in his own cloak and rich furs, standing out from the crowd to issue his own verdict on the matter.

"Speak, Shaman," the wolf spoke without looking at his son, in his...pressing matter.

"It is said that each Alpha, for his time, as per his strength and his wisdom, as it has always been," Laukoma recited, from the lines that had been passed on through generations by memory, in song and repetition until he could recall them with perfection," the law is clear. If the blood of the Alpha is not spilled, then he shall serve the one who won over him, for as long as the...new Alpha such decrees."

There were barks of protest.

"You heard him!" called Riltak. "You heard how it goes! You have witnessed it yourself, in the past as it is now..."

He pointed at his sweaty, dirty son, and nodded, in deference.

"One Alpha falls, another stands," the older wolf said, before he bowed.

His father's gesture almost shocked Olvar. It showed respect beyond the young wolf's years, obviously for his great feat, besides their familial connection. To Olvar's surprise, there were even a few other bows, from amidst the crowd, faces he knew, now reacting to him in such a different manner.

"You heard them," Olvar hissed at the man on the ground," speak now, for it is the only chance you'll ever be given."

Kuruk's breathing had barely stabilized, from the exertion of struggling to free himself from the ropes that still tied him down partially, from the fight, and the events that had followed. He avoided Olvar's eyes, looking instead towards the pile of men underneath which his enraged son was still held by the men.

"...as I have served this tribe..in honor...I respect...the honor of every generation before me...and to come..." the white wolf spoke up, only to suddenly fall silent, momentarily.

Perhaps to his kinsmen it looked like he had become overcome with emotion, at such a moment, but the truth was much more banal, that of the young wolf's cock twisting inside him and once again sending those blinding pulses of sensation through his body.

"I don't think they can hear if I can't...slave..." Olvar hissed, "louder..."

He made his cock jump, within the wolf's smeared tunnel.

"I...I defer..." the white wolf hissed, lips pursed as he tried to keep back even further moans when his own cock twitched and oozed a pitiful dribble of cum from his already drained balls.

The resulting commotion was deafening. There were many voices shouting, everyone trying to gain the upper note while in the middle of them still, Olvar basked in his glory.

"You'll make a fine servant to warm my feet at night..." he spoke to the white wolf, "your new natural place..."

The white wolf did not speak.

"SILENCE!"

Anyone still paying attention to anything really going on discovered that yet another face had entered the fray - this time a dark and grey shaggy-furred wolf of impressive stature, and with a scar running across his muzzle. He stepped forward, and barked out loud enough to truly address the gathered men, to gain they eyes.

"As Aahdur, of my House Aahdur..." the proud wolf announced, "I call for the council of the houses to be gathered here, now, with everyone in attendance to discuss the issue of succession, as these things have been done in the past and now.

There were complaints, of course, yet the additional voices of Dator and Leene, both men of high standing and respect, hunters and warriors leading their own houses, swayed the balance in the favor of a talk instead of a cacophonous battle of launching insults and jeers.

"So it shall be, as it has been, and will be!" announced Laukoma. "We shall speak, with all the houses in council, in regards to the new Alpha."

"Son," spoke Riltak, and leading into another stretch of silence.

Olvar felt more self-conscious than ever before, having his father watch him, almost naked, in coitus with another male, even, and as the center of such attention.

"Yes, Father?" the wolf spoke softly.

"This makes you the leader of the House," the older wolf bowed his head slightly, "You should speak for us."

Olvar shook his head immediately.

"I defer to you, Father," he spoke, "you are more worthy of that name, and I stand by your will in matters of the house...and the tribe."

"Is that what you wish, son of Riltak?" Laukoma asked.

"Yes," said the young wolf. "It is my right."

"Truly it is so," said Laukoma.

"So it shall be," the shaman announced.

Olvar smirked down at the wolf beneath him.

"As for you..you have no place in such a council anymore...and neither do I, for I am in need of a bath and a rest...which you shall provide for me..."

The white wolf's lips barely moved when he spoke, as if still in some kind of a daze.

"Y-yes...Alpha," he whispered.

The act of pulling out a fully formed knot was more difficult than Olvar had anticipated. His girth was lodged firmly in the former alpha's tunnel. The young wolf tugged experimentally with his hips, much to Kuruk's discomfort. Exasperated, Olvar placed a muddy footpaw on the alpha's ass and pushed. The resulting effect on the white wolf's ass both sounded and felt truly obscene. Olvar's knot slowly pulled and stretched the Kuruk's abused rear before plopping out completely. The white wolf's plaintive whines were cut short when he was catapulted forward into the grime. His muddied fur was accentuated by a dribble of cum fresh from his rear. The wolf let out a yelp of surprise at the sensation, yet he was not given much rest. Struggling to right himself, all that he could manage was to flail his limbs like a newborn calf, tied as they were. His sudden struggle only pushed more seed out of his newly loosened hole.

"Kariun, cut him free and bring him his cape," Olvar pointed at the wolf still sprawled on the ground at his feet, "we can't have the servant of the Alpha's house to be wandering around wholly naked, can we?"

The patronizing tone must've made Kuruk's cheeks burn as the hunter wolf approached. Kariun did not protest the order, he simply stepped over and used his knife to cut the remaining ropes, so that Kuruk could finally return to his feet.

Kuruk did not dare to meet the eyes of the many men, once his peers, surrounding him from all sides and witnessing his total humiliation.

Olvar pushed the cloak roughly over the white wolf's shoulders. He was so tall that the younger male almost had trouble reaching to do so.

"We're not done yet," Olvar snorted.

He picked up a length of rope from the ground where they had fallen rather haphazardly.

"Still," Olvar commanded.

Kuruk agreed without a further word.

He remained still, even when the younger wolf twisted a loop of rope around the white wolf's muzzle and pulled it tight. It barely accounted for much of true bondage, being more symbolic than that, but it was enough. He made no move to try to snap the rope, something that spoke much to Olvar.

His will had been broken, at least temporarily, and once he'd come about, he knew that the duties and the laws of the tribe would bind him stronger than any rope ever could.

A man brought to such reduction by the one thing he held most dear, thought Olvar, his own honor.

"Down," said Olvar. "Slaves don't walk like a man."

The white wolf had no choice but fall upon the ground again, this time on his paws and knees like a mere pack mule.

"Come on, your new home awaits, servant," he told the wordless wolf.

Olvar managed one further shock for the council of men, by climbing onto the white wolf's broad back, to take him truly like a a mere mount to carry him him away.

"Go," he said, simply.

There was a silence that was perhaps appropriate, when the almost naked white wolf was walked out of the keep of the tribe, with his still somewhat hard cock jutting between his thick legs while he crawled carrying the dirty, tattered, and by all means victorious younger wolf.

*

They did not speak for the long time it took for the two to cross the village - much longer than usually, since even though Olvar dismounted him and walked alongside, rope at hand, the white wolf still had to proceed on all fours - and then down the path over to Riltak's longhouse, its windows lit by lamps from within by the time they approached through the growing darkness.

"Once you are in that house, you will only speak when spoken to, servant, you understand?"

"Yes...Alpha," whispered Kuruk.

Olvar gave the white wolf another damning smirk, at the state of him. He reeked of sex, sweat, cum and mud, too, from having rolled around on the ground in his desperation to get out of the ropes that held him down for Olvar's gambit. The young wolf knew that he himself was not in a particularly good shape, either, when it came to his presentation, but at least he was not a sight as lewd as the broken white wolf.

They stopped outside the longhouse, and Olvar barked out.

"Tamnair, come to the door at once!" he yelled.

A few moments passed before the heavily reinforced wooden door was opened and a moderately antlered head appeared, to see the speaker, and to bow in deference. The sight of the white wolf, even on the ground as he was, unsettled the young deer at the door, obviously. He hurried to open the door entirely and to bow very deeply, with his hands held behind him.

"There is no need for that, Tamnair," Olvar said, "You will not bow to this one. He is no longer the Alpha, and he is now our house servant."

The deer's eyes seemed to go as wide as they ever could.

"What do you speak, young Olvar?" the deer mumbled, his words coming through a mild accent of a foreign twang to his speech.

"I will explain later, for there is much to speak and no time at the moment" he said," make sure that my mother and my sister in law are in the women's quarters before we come in. They need not see something as sorry as this."

"Y-yes, young Olvar, right away," the deer spoke, bowed again, and hurried back inside the house.

Olvar gave a tug on the rope wound about Kuruk's muzzle, and grinned down to him dirtily.

"I'm sure that Tamnair will be a fine teacher of the art of housekeeping," he said, "he certainly knows what is means to be a slave..."

The white wolf spoke nothing, not even when the deer returned.

"The men's quarters are ready and waiting, young Olvar, and the women are in their rooms," the deer spoke. "Is that as it should be?"

"Yes," Olvar smiled, briefly. "You may return to the kitchen until you are called again."

"Yes, young Olvar."

Olvar decided that he would choose what the deer would need to call him, later on. Now he simply wanted to enjoy the spoils of his victory some more before he had to think too much about it.

"Follow me," he barked to the white wolf.

They entered the house - much like the one Kuruk inhabited as the Alpha, if perhaps not quite as richly decorated with pelts, bones and wood carvings as the white wolf's own familiar home was. The scent, of course, was different, being a mixture of the inhabitants of the House of Riltak. His own would mingle with it, too, and his fur would catch a measure of it as well, in time.

He was led through a doorway into the men's rooms, and into Riltak's rooms, the very same space where Olvar had shivered while he received his father's blessing those short hours earlier.

Olvar removed the rope from Kuruk's muzzle, and pointed a spot on the floor.

"There," he commanded.

The wolf moved, again, to the indicated place.

"Stay," he spoke, as if speaking to an unruly feral mutt.

The wolf remained on all fours, head slightly hung, and the antlers upon the shoulders of his cloak somewhat askew. Olvar smirked and tugged on his own breeches, to expose his groin once again. It smelled strongly of cum and musk still.

"Up here," he pointed at his sheath, "put that muzzle into use. It has to be clean and wet before it goes in your ass again. You understand that, slave? And do not speak to answer me. You must learn to have other ways to do so. Slaves don't talk much because they don't think."

The still wordless, dazed white wolf raised his head, avoiding Olvar' gaze especially once the sheath was slapped against his nosepad. The musky residue was smeared against it and made the wolf snort, but he had no choice but to open his maw and begin to mouth and lick at the rank sheath.

"That's a good boy," Olvar gave the wolf a brief compliment at the feeling of the slick tongue playing with the roll of flesh. "Keep going."

The white wolf lapped at the musky sheath for quite some time. His saliva made it wet and glistening, and most of all, the cock inside the furry pouch grew firm and peeked out. Olvar's lips pulled into a satisfied smirk once the tongue began to sweep over his now bare meat.

"That's right..."

He gave the wolf a cockslap on his muzzle, for good measure.

"Alright, that's enough. Grab your filthy rump and spread it apart to show your dirty hole to your Alpha," Olvar growled.

The thickly muscled white wolf had no option but to reach back behind himself and take a hold of the halves of his rear, and to pull them apart to reveal the cum-stained mess Olvar had made of his once untouched posterior. The single onlooker could see the new freshly fucked hole and how it flexed, with the wolf's paws keeping his ass cheeks spread. It looked incredibly obscene.

"Yep...feel how you've been ruined, slave. Feel that new pussy of yours."

The furiously flushing wolf's fingers moved a little, to carefully touch at the slickened opening that'd been stretched out by the very male whom now issued him the command to play with his asshole, and feel the messy cum sticking onto his furs and still seeping out of him.

Olvar grabbed his dick, and gave it a quick squeeze.

"I hope they'll be talking a long time...and I imagine they will...probably about how you took it in the ass and liked it...oh how much you liked it..." he hissed to the quietly obedient white wolf, the fallen Alpha of the great valley tribe.

Olvar spat into his palm.

"Tail up. And keep your fucking ass spread like that. It's gonna be used well."

The white wolf swung his bushy tail up, and quickly gripped its tip into his muzzle to make sure it's stay out of the way. This exposed his rear fully, from the stretched pink hole to the well-drained balls below, now dangling uselessly in their sack.

"You stay just like that now, slave."

*