Chapter 5: Inden's Decision
#5 of The Mating Season 5
Chapter 5: Inden's Decision
Inden huddled in the corner as his father's grunting intensified. He was five. Why was he here? Why was he here - why was he watching this? But he couldn't look away, and his tiny wings shivered every time his father's big cock fed in and out of the little female's tight pussy. She lay under his father, small and brown and wide-eyed. Inden was too young at the time to know that her sudden silence, her motionlessness, her stiff body meant she was dead. He thought she was his mother. For a long time, he thought that. He'd seen his father choking the little female earlier. She had squirmed as he raped her, as he choked her. Tears had sprang to her eyes, and as the breath was squeezed out of her, she managed to hiss one word before she fell still . . .
"Inden . . ."
Inden's father, Chief Yinzo, scowled and pressed his big paws down tighter. "You dare say my son's name, filth?" he rasped in the guttural language of the winged warriors, and never glancing once at Inden, he proceeded to rape her corpse until he had come inside.
Little Inden wept silently into his knees. Outside, he could hear the same thing happening to the rest of the little females that had been abducted a year ago. Their children could walk and crawl now. The winged warriors were finished with them. The mating season, it was over. It was time: all the females must die, including their daughters who had the nerve to be born with little clits instead of cocks. Many sons were dying tonight too - but only because they had failed to sprout the wings that were necessary to become a winged warrior. Inden could hear their shrieks and wails, could hear the fire's merciless crackling as the ritual ceremony of burning the dead began. Any wolf who ran, any wolf who fought was shoved into those flames alive. The sounds as they burned to death . . . horrifying. The smells . . . nauseating. Inden felt the sick rise in his throat, scorching as it threatened to hit the back of his fangs.
How many times had Inden attempted to flee this place? But the last time he tried that, he was tied to a stake in the center of the village, and every wolf was then allowed to molest him at will for a week. Running was for pussies, his father reminded him. This was his life, this was the way they survived. Females were dirt, females were trouble and must be eliminated within the space of a year.
And it really happened: Inden had never known a female for longer than a year while living under his father's tyranny.
For little Inden -- in his desperation to fill the void that was not having a mother - managed to find a mother figure in every new batch of abducted females each and every year. But he was soon to learn that any female he clung to was subject at the end of the year to his father's especial attention. The year he witnessed Rwanda's strangulation and rape at the paws of his father was his very last attempt to find some comfort within the madness: he never approached a female again with a flower, never knelt on one knee and asked the sympathetic slave "Will you be my mother?"
Present-day Inden awoke with a start, his fur limp with sweat as it lay plastered to his tight muscles. His dark mane was a shadow around him as he blinked the nightmare away. His chest heaved, and touching a big finger to his cheek, he found a tear. He clenched his teeth. So many years of freedom, but the past still crept up behind him, still stood like a shadow over his shoulder. Sometimes he thought he caught a familiar scent on the air - the sweet mixture of fresh dew and flowers that had always been in Rwanda's fur - and he would call out the little female's name before he could stop himself.
Wynn had once even heard him whisper his would-be mother's name, and he looked away in shame, not wanting to explain. He had already told Wynn before. When they were still children living in the summer village, he took her paw one day when no one was around and whispered to her the horrors that had been his life. She had listened to him, sympathetic and understanding, and out in the fields she had given him the purest kiss he would ever taste.
He had been bolder back then. He had snuck out to the fields to see her, and how delighted she had been that he was willing to break the rules just for her! But as they grew older and Wynn grew even prettier, Inden became more and more aware of how dangerous it was to be caught alone with her: just being caught holding Wynn's paw could seriously jeopardize the trust he was building steadily between himself and Kilyan. Inden had every intention of marrying Kilyan's daughter, and he knew that just one slip-up could destroy everything - or at least, that was what he firmly believed.
He was secretly terrified of Kilyan, after all. The way Kilyan smashed his father's head with that rock . . . he would never forget that. The spurt of blood. Chief Yinzo's foot twitching. And how enraged Kilyan's face, how twisted and contorted with sheer outrage. No, Inden did not want to get on the bad side of one so fierce and protective of Wynn as Kilyan.
But it was not only that. Inden had come to look up to Kilyan as a father and friend. Whenever there was a problem, whenever he needed advice, Kilyan always had the answer. Kilyan was always standing there with a kind smile, with concerned green eyes, and how long had Inden wanted to tell him, "You are my father - not Chief Yinzo! You!" But Inden quickly told himself such displays of emotion were for females, and rather than make a fool of himself, he worked hard everyday to increase Kilyan's fondness for him. He did these things for Wynn. Why couldn't she see that? Ranting and raving about having to marry him when they had longed for it together so many times . . . didn't she think that hurt him?
Suddenly angry, Inden ripped his sheets aside and sprang from his bed. He would make Wynn see it! He would finally give her what she had been demanding since he'd met her: he would make love to her, wildly, passionately, and he would claim her as his own - and the next male who touched her would smell his passion on her body!
Resolved to finally knock some sense into Wynn, Inden marched from his hut to do just that.