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This is a fanfic about a female Argonian, the werewolves of Solstheim, and the Daedra Lord Hircine. Please don't read if you are not of age, don't like breeding, and don't enjoy these sorts of situations. As always, comment about what you like, and tell me if you enjoyed this.

The Secrets of Solstheim: A Morrowind Fanfic

Everyone knew the legends of Solstheim, the cursed island off of the island of Vvardenfell; how it was blanketed in snow, populated by monsters and spirits, and ruled by a pack of werewolves that feasted on anything that dared to intrude on their territory. Other than the Imperials at Fort Frostmouth, who were too far south to bother attacking, and the Nords that dwelt in the village of Skaal to the north, nobody lived in the icy land that were capable of surviving the werewolf attacks.

That was during the day.

During the night, nobody bothered to go outside, save for adventurers that took the boat from Khuul in search for more loot and more treasure. Those particular idiots were the first ones out of the fort at night, and they avoided Skaal like the plague in hopes of finding a werewolf of their own to kill. They had quite a reputation on the mainland, after all, and to bring home a pelt of such a legendary creature would have been something worthy of bragging indeed.

None of those that took the boat came back again. Despite the warnings of the ferrymen telling every adventurer, every researcher, and every soldier that crossed of their danger, nobody listened. Nobody really cared about what happened in the past, except to show that they had done something that nobody else could have. After a while, the ferrymen just stopped telling the tales, figuring that those crossing had already heard them and were willing to ignore the danger and certain death waiting for them. As long as they had good coin to pay, they were just customers, and besides, some of them paid for the return trip and never actually took it. Pure profit was something they were hard pressed to ignore.

It had been that way for four years now, and the flow of explorers and adventuring foreigners had slowly slackened off until the ferrymen figured that the danger of the island had finally worked its way into the dense skulls of the outlanders. Maybe they would finally get some rest from taking non-working people out to Fort Frostmouth and stop having to wonder what happened to them.

Of course, it turned out that wasn't the case. One day shortly after the start of winter, an Argonian female by the name of Sunset Scales arrived at the dock. She immediately sought out the ferryman and said that she wished to go to Solstheim. It had been so long since the last request had been made that the ferryman actually was halfway to the boat before starting to tell her of the dangers. He expected that the delicate looking female would turn tail and run after hearing all the things that had happened at the island.

Instead, she simply grinned. "That's why I'm going," was all she said.

Shrugging, the ferryman shut up. Just another brainless outlander that was going to get themselves killed, he thought to himself. Might as well make sure that their gold wound up in his pocket than someone else's.

#

The trip took nearly six hours, and by the time that the boat docked at the fort's port, Sunset Scales wondered if she might have made the trip faster in the water. She dismissed the thought quickly; that was more or less annoyance talking, considering that the water around the island was almost frozen to the shore. If she'd tried to swim here, she'd either have gone into some sort of shock from the powerful chill or have been killed by a slaughterfish. The distance between Khuul and Solstheim wasn't something that was so easily surpassed by a simple swim, even if she was an Argonian and could have spent the entire trip underwater.

As the wind whipped around her, the chill biting at her exposed neck, she tugged her fur coat around her torso. It had been a pricey acquisition back in Balmora and the Khajiit that had sold it to her seemed curious what she planned to do with it, but it was paying off now. The fur kept out the cold a great deal better than her leather clothes underneath it managed, and her torso thanked her for it. Her bare feet and her legs - covered in netch leather that barely blunted the edge of the wind - definitely could have done with the same protection. Pity that it had been so ungodly expensive. She would have liked some fur leggings to go with it.

But by now, it was too late to go back. The last of her money had been spent on the ferryman's fee, and anything else that she might use would have to be picked up on her trip north.

"Do you want to reserve a seat on the ride back?" the dunmer ferryman asked.

She turned to look at him. His eyes and tone of voice already told her that he didn't expect her to be back, and she didn't blame him, nor did she believe anything else herself. She didn't plan to be back, anyway. "Thanks, but no," the reptile said with a shake of her head.

The Dunmer nodded at her before sitting down in his boat, pulling his own coat tighter to himself. He didn't have any fur to stay warm with, but at least his clothes covered him evenly from head to foot. She had to deal with the cold biting into the scales of her feet and legs, and it was all she could do to keep from shivering at the painful chill. Best not to think about it, she thought to herself with a shake of her head.

Sunset Scales turned her eyes away from the boat and to the island itself. Almost right in front of the dock was Fort Frostmouth itself, the last safe place before the village of Skaal to the north, according to a few soldiers that had been stationed here before. They'd mentioned some sort of mead hall that was between the two of them, but she discounted that as a really safe place. A bunch of drunken Nords wouldn't be the best thing to keep a place safe, particularly if there were more than the more basic monsters out there in the winter wasteland stretched out before her.

Her destination lay far to the north, somewhere near Skaal village. Maybe beyond it, if they had moved on already; she didn't know just how often the pack moved during the year, just that they stayed relatively close to Skaal. Probably hoping for some easy meals.

Out of instinct, her hand dropped down to her hip, grabbing tight hold of the dagger hilt that lay there. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it had a nice shock enchantment to it that gave it a greater sting than most people would expect. A few bandits had figured that out on the road between Ald'rhun and Khuul, and she figured that there would probably be a few monsters and creatures out in the snow that would get the same lesson. "I just hope that I don't run into anything like that Winged Twilight back in the ruins," she muttered under her breath, shivering at that memory. That little daedra had proven very hard to get away from.

Well, she might as well get moving. It would only get colder, and she would need to keep moving if she wanted the slightest hope of keeping warm in this weather.

The Argonian started jogging down the dock, her bronze-orange scales starting to get a little wet from melted snow. The clouds extended as far as the eye cold see, so far that she couldn't see the sun anymore. Any chance of telling direction by the heavens would not be available to her, so she would have to be very careful about what direction she picked. She could die if she took a wrong route.

She already knew that, but the thoughts of what could go wrong continued to slip around in her head. She could be surprised by others that lived in the snowy wastes; she could take a wrong turn and get lost and slowly freeze to death; she could fall through a frozen lake and drown. Well, not that last one so much, considering that she could breathe underwater, but the rest were certainly possible. Sunset Scales knew that there was every possibility that she could die out here on this forsaken island, and nobody would ever be able to find her body. Part of her wanted to turn back. After all, what was out there that was worth risking her life like this?

She already knew the answer to that, as well. The werewolves of Solstheim were out there, and they were worth risking her life to find.

Without further thought, she jogged past the fort and into the blustery, snowy winds of the Solstheim frozen plains.

#

It was hours later before she bothered taking a break, leaning against one of the many trees that covered this part of the island. Sunset Scales looked over her shoulder, wondering if the fort was still in view. It wasn't, though whether that was because of how far she'd come or because the wind and snow kept her from seeing it was up for debate. Not that she wanted to waste any energy thinking about that, at the moment.

She leaned her back against the tree before slowly sliding down it until she was sitting on the ground. The snow burned her feet, and she forced herself to pick them up off of the ground and lay them over her knees. Sitting crosslegged like that was uncomfortable for her species, but if she didn't do something for her feet, they were going to go numb completely, and in this weather, frostbite and possible limb loss would follow before long. With how far she needed to travel, she needed all her limbs to stay right where they were, and she wasn't going to lose a piece of her body to something she could at least stall a little bit, even if she couldn't completely prevent it.

As she rubbed her feet gently, she looked towards the direction she had been traveling. She hoped that it was north, but there was no way to tell at this point. The wind carried the snow in patterns that blurred anything beyond fifty feet ahead, and there was nothing at all to see more than sixty feet ahead. Frankly, she considered herself lucky be able to see that far forward. This was a light snowstorm for the island, according to the soldiers she'd interviewed for information. Normally, according to them, a snowstorm kept someone from seeing more than twenty feet ahead of them. Maybe one of the Aedra or Daedra were smiling on her after all.

She shook her head, grunting as the foot rub she gave herself brought full sensation back to her feet. Not a pleasant feeling, as they felt like some insane Imperial was jabbing her feet with a great deal of needles. Though she'd heard that they did things like that back in Cyrodiil, she couldn't imagine why. It seemed very strange to her that people would hurt themselves in order to feel better. At least, that was what the Imperials told her about the practice. Why not just make one feel better to feel better, she wondered, but then again, the humans of Cyrodiil had a lot of strange ideas. Better to just let them stew in their own insanity until they all killed each other. Probably with beheadings to get rid of headaches, she thought to herself with a little chuckle.

Well, now that her feet weren't in danger of going completely numb for a little bit longer, she should get going. Sunset Scales could already feel the exhaustion from the cold settling into her limbs, particularly her legs, and she couldn't afford to stay still when she felt like that. It just invited the cold to get in more, until she was so tired that she couldn't move anymore. Her family had told her about that when she'd talked to them about what she planned to do, and she was glad that she'd listened to them.

The snow crunched under her feet as she set off again, but she'd barely moved a few feet before another crunch in the snow caught her attention. She froze in place, just in time for a boar to rush past her, charging through the space she would have stood in if she hadn't stopped in her tracks.

On its back was a strange little creature, holding a pike. It looked like a little lancer, something like a child playing at charging someone like a knight. However, there was nothing childlike about the weapon in its hand, a trident with several sharp points on it. The boar stopped and turned to face her again, its trotter scraping against the snow and the ground underneath as it prepared to charge her again.

Her hand grabbed her dagger, pulling it free as the boar and its rider charged at her again. She dodged to the side just in time, avoiding the trident, but she knew that she couldn't keep this up for long. The rider on the boar had a trident that was at least five feet long, and it had a much greater reach than she did with her dagger. She'd have to get past the trident, not to mention the boar's tusks, before she could deal any kind of blow to rider or beast.

The Argonian crouched as the boar turned again, clenching her fist around the grip of her dagger. At a disadvantage or not, she'd have to get one of them on this pass. That last one had come a little too close.

Holding herself quite still, Sunset Scales watched as the boar charged again. Her eyes watched the boar's legs, measuring how fast he was going, and watching its rider. It wasn't on a saddle, so it would be easy to knock off if she could avoid the trident. Just had to do this right...

At the last moment, she dodged to the side and stabbed out with her dagger. She missed the rider's leg, but she did stab the blade into the side of the boar. She felt the blade skip over the ribs before sinking in deep. Judging by just where it slid in, it wasn't the heart or the lungs, but as long as it was some organ that would slow the damnable thing down, she'd be happy. Hell, she'd be thrilled.

Thankfully, it seemed that was the case. The boar collapsed after it went past her, throwing its rider forward and into a snow drift. Considering how still the rider was after hitting the snow, either it was unconscious or it had snapped its neck on something under the snow. Well, good riddance, she thought to herself, shaking her head as she approached the dead pig. The dagger stuck out just enough for her to get a grip on it, and she hurriedly yanked it out. A rather strong gush of blood followed the blade, reddening the snow below.

"Disgusting," she muttered. She dunked the blade into the snow nearby and made sure that the blood was washed off of the blade before wiping it dry on her fur coat and sheathing it again. For a moment, she wondered if she should cut up a bit of the boar and bring it with her as additional food. After all, she only had so much in her belt packs, and she could run out quickly out here.

She discarded the thought a moment later. If she was reduced to needing the boar meat, how was she to eat it? There was no way that she could make a fire to cook it, and she couldn't eat something that filthy raw. No, it was better to leave it here. Some scavenger or something would eventually come along and devour it, leaving the bones to eventually decay and be swallowed up by the ground again. Much better to do that than to bring along something foul and possibly diseased for food that she might not even need.

Turning her back on the body of the boar, she started marching into the blustering winds again. She tucked her hands under her arms to try and hold in as much heat as she could, hoping that she was still moving north. The battle had turned her around, and she was no longer sure just which direction she was going.

#

More than a few hours passed before Sunset Scales stopped again, this time at the base of a hill. The snowstorm had finally stopped, the winds and the falling snow disappearing as fast as they had come up a little while ago, and she could actually see the sky and the way in front of her. The moon was nearly full, which helped a lot, and she could see that there was a village not all that far ahead. It had to be Skaal, the village that the Nords had established here on the island. The various scouts that she could see coming back from the south and from the west supported that idea, as did the few pens of livestock that she could see from down here.

The Argonian sighed in relief as she made her way up the hill, waving her arms to get the attention of any sentries that might have watching. If there was anything that she didn't want to do, it was startle a bunch of Nords. They might or might not have been drunk, but either way, they didn't always take kindly to strangers, and she needed them to tell her which way to go from here.

It didn't take long before she was noticed, one of the Nords on duty pulling out a battleaxe and shouting for her to halt. She obliged him, stopping in her tracks. The ground around the village had been stamped and swept by much passage, so the snow wasn't as deep her as it was in the plains a little further south, but the ground was still icy to her scaly toes. She wiggled her feet around to keep them from going numb as the pale skinned human approached her.

He shouldered his axe, but still looked at her warily. "Where did you come from, and why are you this far north?" he asked.

"I took ship from Khuul a day or so back," she answered. "I came up here to find the werewolves that I have heard so much about." His face twisted into a frown of annoyance, and she hurried to explain herself. "I heard a lot about them back in Vvardenfell, and I wanted to see them in person. I am not here to fight them, or try to bring back a trophy or something. I just want to see them."

"Well, you sure timed it right for that." The Nord pointed to the sky, at the moon. "You see? They'll be here tomorrow night, and there's no time to send you back to the Imperials in the south before they get here, even if we had the spare men for it." He shook his head, looking back at the village before turning to her again. "Not going to go back and be sensible, are you?"

She shook her head.

"Damn stupid of you. Brave, but stupid." He groaned. Pointing towards one hut towards the edge of the village, he said, "Well, go to old Wind-Eye's hut. Maybe he can tell you what you want to know."

She nodded her thanks before passing by him. "Maybe I can find some better clothes, too," she muttered. The coat had done its job well enough, but she would be damned by Dagon himself if she spent any longer in the cold than she had to. Her pants were soaked through and her feet almost felt like they were going to fall off. Her scales just weren't built for this kind of weather.

Looking over the village, she could tell that the Nords didn't have a good life here. They might have, once, but the huts that she could see were in various states of disrepair. The only place that wasn't at least partially run down was the great hall near the center of the village. Even the hut that the sentry had pointed out had several holes in the wall that had only recently been patched, and the window that looked down the hill had a broken out corner to it. Had the werewolves been responsible for this, she wondered to herself. If they were, they must have been a great deal stronger than she had thought.

Shaking her head, she knocked on the door. Surprisingly, it opened almost immediately, the old man inside waving for her to come inside. She followed his wishes, moving over to the fire that she noticed on the other side. Almost immediately her legs began to burn from the heat, the return of sensation almost painful. Well, there was no almost; it was painful, but at least it meant that her legs were a little less likely to have been damaged in the long, cold walk here.

The old man - the shaman, she corrected herself - looked at her curiously. He leaned back in a chair with several layers of fur covering him, and had some lines of paint drawn over his face. They almost looked like tattoos, like the other humans sometimes put on their skin, but it ran slightly in the warmth of the hut. Either they were purely ceremonial, or he didn't want to put needle to flesh in order to get something like that.

He shook his head at her, gesturing for her to sit down by the fire, which she did. Her legs didn't like bending enough to let her sit on the ground, but Sunset Scales knew that she couldn't stand for much longer. Better to endure a little discomfort than to just fall on her face when her strength ran out completely. Her legs actually cracked audibly as she settled herself down, and she blushed at the sound. She looked away from the shaman, sure that he was probably smiling at her. At least he was kind enough not to say anything.

When she was fully settled and had the fire at her back, she shrugged her way out of her coat. Laying it down behind her and letting the fire dry out the fur, she let her armor be exposed to the fire as well. Though not as wet as the netch leather covering her legs, it was still soaked with some sweat and what little moisture that the fur hadn't been able to keep from getting through. Her chest screamed to be allowed to be let out and stop being held down so tightly, but that wouldn't be proper in front of a stranger, and a shaman at that.

Just as she was getting comfortable, the shaman spoke up. "So, what idiocy told you to come across the frozen island like that?"

She blushed, and bowed her head. "The same one that told me that I needed to see the werewolves." The Argonian looked down at the furred floor of the hut, shaking her head. "I know that it's stupid, but there's just something that I have to do. I keep hearing about them, and every time, something tugged at me, begging me to just start making my way north. I resisted for a while, but after a while, I just couldn't anymore. I needed to see them."

The shaman was quiet, so quiet that she forced herself to look up at him. She expected to see him looking at her like she was insane - something that might have even been true - or like she was a moron, or smiling at her with the good natured way that people looked at idiots. All of that would have been quite familiar.

Instead, he looked at her with a knowing eye. He nodded a few times before putting a finger to his chin. He had the look of someone that was making a difficult decision, and despite her own need, Sunset Scales wondered just what was going on in his head, what he was needing to decide. Was he trying to figure out whether he should help her or throw her back out into the cold, or was he thinking of something else? She knew that the werewolves were a threat and that speaking of them here would probably not be looked upon happily, but she didn't know what else to do. Only these Nords saw them regularly, and even if they didn't, they were the only ones that could maybe help her before she died of exposure out there.

"I was hoping that you could help me find them," she said when the shaman didn't speak further. "I know that they live further north than this village, but I didn't know anything more than that. The soldiers that used to be stationed at the fort to the south said that you had been attacked a few times, and I thought that maybe you could point me towards them."

"You won't need us to point you towards them." The shaman shook his head, extending a hand and pointing to the various damaged parts of his hut. "They came here during the last full moon, and my hut was only one of the ones damaged. A good few of the warriors were wounded or killed, and the wounded ones are still weak. They'll be coming again tomorrow. If there's a storm, during the day, and if not, during the night." He shook his head with a sigh. "They used to only come during the night, but ever since a year back, they seem to turn early, if the sun isn't shining through the clouds."

That was news to the Argonian, and she perked up to listen to Wind-Eye tell her more.

"I don't know whether any of us are going to live through tomorrow. The werewolves are growing stronger and stronger with each year, ever since the Bloodmoon four years ago. There should have been a hero...should have been someone to fulfill the prophecies." He grunted as he slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair. "Why didn't he come?!"

She hesitated. "I...don't know." Shrugging her shoulders, she slowly stood up. "I can't tell you why things didn't happen in the past, and I can't tell you what's going to happen tomorrow. What I can tell you is that I have to see the werewolves."

"I told you-"

"Before tomorrow." She didn't know why, but as soon as she said it, she realized that it was the truth."I need to see them before tomorrow, or all that I did was for nothing."

She met the shaman's eyes and held his gaze. His eyes, blue and as cold as the icy lakes across the island, seemed to be just as unwavering, but she couldn't look away. She had to do this. Just like with the need to see the werewolves, she didn't know why, but she had to. If she didn't, every bit of money she'd spent to get here, every long journey, every bit of pain and discomfort would be rendered worthless. She honestly didn't know what she would do if the shaman refused her; the very thought was unthinkable.

Eventually, he looked away. "I can tell you where to go, but we can't spare any warriors to escort you. They all need to be here for tomorrow, if there is to be any chance of Skaal surviving another month." He shook his head. "I shouldn't even be doing this much. All this will lead to is your death."

"That's for me to be upset about," Sunset Scales said with a shake of her head. "Just tell me where they are." She looked down at herself, and chuckled. "And maybe let me have some different clothes? I'm sure that with some of your wounded and how many have died, you can spare some." She only realized after she said it how ruthless that sounded and how rude, and she winced.

However, Wind-Eye only nodded. "Yes, there are many dead. I don't know if there are any clothes left that would actually fit you, but we can look and see if we can find any." He nodded towards the door. "Check in the main hall. Perhaps there is something that the wife of our former Chieftain can give you to wear. Her husband was lost in the Bloodmoon, and she mostly wears his clothes now."

She sighed deeply in relief, but bowed her head in thanks. Though her fur coat wasn't completely dry yet, it was still better than nothing, and she shrugged it back on. She knew when she was out of reach of the fire's warmth immediately, and when she opened the door, the cold bit at her face and scales seemingly twice as strongly as before.

Wasting no time, she ran across the short distance between her and the main hall. Despite how fast she ran, however, whatever warmth she'd managed to gather disappeared, carried off by the snow and the icy wind. By the time that she stepped into the much roomier, and still freezing, main hall.

The floor was covered with warriors and villagers, either sleeping or trying to heal from wounds that she didn't want to think about. Blankets and fur covered them, and their weapons lay close at hand. At least half reached for them at her approach, and less than half of those that did bothered letting go as she passed by. Not that she blamed them; they probably lived in fear of any stranger. After all, werewolves looked like normal people during the day and outside of the full moon...or at least, that was what she had heard. She didn't know if that was really the truth, though the shaman had suggested it.

No, she realized, he'd only said that they attacked on the full moon. That was something completely different. They might transform every night, for all she knew, and the full moon was their rallying point towards attacking the village here. Was the moon some sort of signal? It could be, considering that the wolves only attacked then. She would have to find out some way to ask the werewolves when she saw them.

That thought was so random and so silly that she couldn't help but laugh a little bit at it. Goodness, but she was looking at this strangely. Or was it strange? She had been so obsessed with the wolves for so long that she was no longer sure just what a normal person would think about the matter. Maybe they had the same thoughts of asking the werewolves what their opinion on the moon was. Maybe they didn't. It didn't really matter to the Argonian anymore; after tonight, she wouldn't be with these humans anymore.

She stepped up to one of the people still standing in the hall, a woman with her hair undone. The other ladies in the lodge had their hair tied up in braids, but hers was all loose, undone. "Are you the wife of the chieftain?" she asked.

The woman looked at her before giving a sharp nod. "I was. Who are you, and why are you here in this desolate land?"

"I'm looking for the werewolves. I...I need to see them, and your shaman, Wind-Eye, said that I should ask you for some clothing, so I don't freeze out in the wind while I look."

"You-" the woman started to say before cutting herself off. She shook her head and looked away. "Why do I bother? You might as well take what you can. It will only go to waste here when there are too few to clothe, too few to even stand on their own." She turned and led the way to the back of the lodge, where several closed doors marked where people would normally go for privacy or sleep. The widow opened one and gestured to a dresser on the other side. "There should be plenty of things for you there, though I don't think there's anything in your size. Considering where you're going, I doubt that's important to you."

"You're right." Sunset Scales turned from the dresser to the woman. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. You're going to your death, and likely wasting good fur, but if you're dead set, you might as well feed something than die in the cold in an hour." Without another word, the woman turned away, walking back towards the injured and sleeping near the front door. She knelt down beside one of them, rubbing a cool cloth against the man's forehead.

The Argonian shook her head, but ignored them. She couldn't do anything to help here, and wanting to do something didn't magically change that.

She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her before walking over to the dresser. It slid open easily, despite the dust covering it. The first drawer held several sets of fur pants, and she chose the smallest of them, sliding them over her legs and tightening the drawstrings as far as they would go. It wasn't much better, and she would have liked to have a belt to keep them up, but that was one thing that the drawer didn't have. A quick check proved that the other drawers of the dresser lacked them as well, but there were a few pairs of gloves for the taking. She grabbed the smallest pair again, and thankfully they fit her a great deal better than her pants did. Already carrying a fur coat, she didn't bother looking for something like that.

Feeling much warmer now that she was dressed appropriately, Sunset Scales opened the door again and stepped out. The warriors that lay on the ground and the widow looked at her for a moment before going back to their tasks, all shaking their heads or rolling their eyes at her. They doubtlessly considered her a fool for what she was doing.

Perhaps she was, perhaps she wasn't. Only time would tell, and that time was coming close.

Before long, she stepped back into the wind and the cold outside, but thanks to the furs, it wasn't nearly as painful to stand in it as it had been before. It wasn't comfortable, by any means, but itwasn't the torture that it had been during the walk to the village, either. Now, she could stand in one place and not feel like the wind was going to slam her into the ground or carry her frozen body away into some strange darkness. Smiling, Sunset Scales stood in place, looking up at the temporarily clear sky.

The stars above were quite beautiful, now that they weren't obscured by the torchlight and candlelight of a town. Sometimes, back on Vvardenfell, she'd been able to see the stars close to this clarity, when she was camping outside of the cities or way out of civilization, but something about seeing them out here, where the cold cut out any distractions and the clouds were out of the way, made it different. It seemed so much...clearer, had so much more clarity out here.

The moment of stargazing didn't last long. Wind-Eye approached from the left, and she turned to bow to him in greetings. He bowed his head in return and gestured to a warrior at his side. "Thorsk was the last of our warriors to observe the werewolves out in the snow. He can point you to where they are, but he is not to go further than an hour's walk from the village to show where they are. As soon as you leave, he is to return here, no matter what you might feel you need. Do you understand?"

"Yes." She turned her attention to the warrior. "You don't have to walk with me to tell me where they are. How far from here are they, and in what direction?"

"Are you sure?" Thorsk asked. "I do not mind-"

"Your shaman has told me that the werewolves will be coming again tomorrow, and I need to meet them tonight. If you come with me part way, I'll lose time. Just tell me where they are." Sunset Scales could almost feel the time she had slipping away. If she wasn't at the den of the werewolves by the time that dawn came, she would be too late for whatever it was that drew her onwards.

Thorsk nodded his head before pointing towards the north west. There was a silhouette of a castle in the distance, something that she most definitely hadn't expected to see. "You see the castle out there?" he asked. She nodded. "The werewolves swarm somewhere between here and there, almost always in a straight line. The owner of the castle used to be friendly to us, but the werewolves got rid of him some time back, and now his servants are our enemies. Some of them ride boars further to the south and harass people, but they aren't that dangerous, particularly in comparison to some of the other things on the island."

"I ran into one on the way here. He was dangerous enough." She nodded a few times, looking at the castle again. It was large enough that she should be able to keep her bearings even in the middle of a snowstorm. After all, even one of Solstheim's storms shouldn't be able to wash away a place the size of a small mountain, could it?

Giving her coat a tug to settle it a little better around her torso, she bowed once more to both warrior and shaman. "I thank you for your help, even though you didn't need to. I hope that you will survive whatever happens tomorrow night." That said, the Argonian set off, one hand on the hilt of her dagger and the other holding the front of her coat shut. The wind blew around her, and even though her furs kept most of the cold out, some little bit managed to slip through.

That wasn't what made her shiver, however.

#

She soon decided that the darkness of Solstheim's night left much to be desired. Everything was much harder to see, despite the snow that covered the ground. Somehow, it had been easier to see when the snow had been falling. With the clouds covering the moon earlier and not now, that didn't make much sense, but that was how it seemed to her. She almost wished that the snow would fall again, but shook that thought away. Even if it did make it easier to see - something she was still trying to figure out - it would make the travel that much harder, and it was hard enough as it was, her feet sinking into snow halfway up to her knees at times, and others being forced to wade through snow up to her hips. She wasn't sure how the Nords or wolves got around in this kind of terrain.

Her body was starting to freeze up again despite the furs. A part of her wondered how long ago she would have frozen without them, while another part wondered how she was going to get to the wolves when she could barely keep her legs moving as it was. Every step felt like it was going to take the last of her strength from her, and picking her feet out of the frozen muck of the earth felt like she was going to leave part of her leg behind, snapped off from the rest of her icy body.

Shaking her head to try and bring a little clarity back, she looked up to see how far off the castle looked. It had grown a little larger on the horizon than before, but it was still quite far away from her. The wolves must have been closer than before, though. They had to be.

Sunset Scales lowered her head again, wrapping her arms tightly around her chest to hold in what warmth she had left. "They can't be much further," she muttered.

Repeating the words over and over again, she kept slogging through the snow until she heard a sound. It was quiet, and for a moment, she was tempted to dismiss it as some sort of auditory hallucination borne out of false hope. However, it repeated itself a moment later, and she stopped to listen to try and make some sense out of it.

When she realized just what it was, a smile leaped to her face for the first time in a long time. It was the sound of wolves howling, and not just wolves, but werewolves. They were close!

Rejuvenated with new hope and encouraged by the howls, she started running through the snow. Every bit of cold that had made her want to fall down and sleep until she did fell away from her, and she ran like a young Khajiit through the forests of Elsweyr, as if there wasn't a care in the world and her parents were waiting for her ahead with treats and wonders galore. Her grin grew wider and wider as the howls got louder and louder.

Shadows dashed across the ground in front of her, forcing her to halt to not slam into them. They slowed and began to circle her, walking on all fours but with their heads lifted up. Muzzles sniffed at the air and forepaws lifted, slowly reaching for her.

She'd found them. She'd found the werewolves. Sunset Scales grinned at them, holding her arms out away from her sides, trying to show that she meant no harm. Admittedly, the beasts looked far stronger and far more lethal than the stories had painted them to be, and she didn't know how well they'd interpret the gesture, but at this point, it was the only thing that she could do.

They grabbed at the hilt of her dagger, pulling it free from its sheath and throwing it to the ground. It sunk through the snow immediately, dropping down beneath who knew how many layers of frost. She wouldn't be able to use that to defend herself if the wolves turned more hostile, but so far, they were just circling her. One leaned forward, sniffing at her face and hands, but didn't bite her. They seemed curious, more than anything else, and that boded well for her.

The wolves circled her for a full minute before one of them stood to its hind legs. It couldn't stand up completely like a human or like her, but it definitely could hold its balance. Leaning forward just enough to be considered looming, it approached her and only stopped when its muzzle was barely an inch away from the tip of her snout. She met its golden eyes, unable to keep from admiring the feral power that lay behind them.

She wasn't quite sure how long they stared into the eyes of each other before he grabbed her hand with his paw. He yanked at her, hard, and turned around. Obviously, he wanted her to follow him.

Well, that was what she was here for.

The other wolves remained at her side, following them like an honor guard as she ran as fast as she could. Even that wasn't quite enough to keep up with the fast pace of the wolf, and the only reason that she didn't fall flat on her face was because the wolf pulled her hard enough - not to mention moved fast enough - that she was pulled behind him with her feet off of the ground. The force should have been hard enough to yank her arm right out of its socket, but it didn't happen. Maybe there was something stronger about her arm, or perhaps she was not heavy enough to yank it free by her weight alone.

Either way, she tried to keep up by running as much as she could to keep from being dragged. The werewolf never growled, never made any sound of disapproval, but she could tell that he was in a hurry. Despite the fact that she hadn't been threatened or hurt by the wolves so far, she didn't want to give them an excuse or make them feel agitated in the least way.

They guided her across a vast expanse of snow and ice, passing around several places where the snow and ice had weakened for some reason and would have dropped her into a black abyss of frozen water. Every time that they avoided a danger, she felt her admiration for them rise up another notch.

One thing was for sure; these were not mere beasts. Beasts would have eaten her or chased her off, not guided her around dangers on their way to...well, she hoped it was on the way to their pack, though it could have been something completely different. Her eyes drifted behind her, wondering if there was more of the pack behind her. There weren't, but neither could she see the silhouette of Skaal any longer. She was too far away from the village to be able to see it.

She shook her head before turning back to the wolf leading her. She needed to pay attention to where she was going, not where she had come from.

#

Eventually, the wolves led her to the entrance to a cavern. The ones at her sides suddenly pulled ahead, slipping around her and into the entrance of the cave, while the one tugging her by the hand paused. She watched with some surprise as it took up a position near the entrance, like a guard. When she didn't enter immediately, it gestured with a forepaw towards the mouth of the cave, telling her to step inside. Not wanting to offend it, she nodded and walked by.

Inside the cave, the cold was less pervasive than it was outside. Still present, it at least was a still cold, rather than a biting one. Perhaps the shape of the cave mouth prevented the wind from blowing too deep into the cave, she thought to herself. Or maybe there was something about the walls that blunted the wind and kept it from wafting in. Whatever the reason was, she was thankful for the break in the chill.

Werewolves filled the various caverns and tunnels, either growling at one another, sleeping, or eating something. Probably something that she didn't want to think about the source of, she realized, and she turned away from them whenever she noticed the ripping and tearing of meat. Grunts and growls of a different sort slipped out of some of the darker, closed off tunnels, and she wondered just what the werewolves might be doing down there. The smell coming out of those spots - musky and salty - gave her a small clue, and she blushed as she hurried past them.

Whenever one of the werewolves stepped in front of her, she stopped in her tracks to allow them the right of way. Rather than growl at her, however, they would lean in, sniff at her neck and face, and then flash her a wolfish grin. She couldn't understand why, but it seemed a universal reaction to her presence; lean in, sniff, and smile. Did the werewolves expect her here or something?

That seemed possible, particularly as some of them began to point her down different tunnels towards some destination. When she tried to go a different direction, they growled slightly louder and pointed towards where they'd initially directed again. Faced with the possibility of annoying something that could bite her head clean off without effort, she decided to go along with what they wanted.

It took some time - minutes, hours, or longer, she didn't know - before she reached the deepest part of the cavern. Lines of ice crawled across the walls like a child's scribbles, the many lines gradually coming together at a single point at the other side of the room. They coalesced at a raised piece of rock, atop which there were several items. A spear, a helmet, and a piece of armor lay together on top of the rock. All of them were quite old, both in appearance and in functionality, looking more ceremonial than useful. The Argonian wondered if they were some sort of collection of things from somewhere further in the caverns, or looted from a burial mound somewhere else on the island.

That idea was smashed as the other werewolves in the room knelt before the raised rock. They weren't collected plunder, she realized; they were some form of sacred items to the werewolves, and this was an altar to them. But what would a werewolf worship, she wondered. It didn't seem likely that they would worship the Aedra or the Tribunal of Morrowind, so what would they find out here that would fit with their lives?

Her answer revealed itself as the ice around the altar pulsed, glowing with a blood red light. Each pulse towards the altar made it burn a little brighter with light. A moment later, the light actually started to lift the weapons off of the altar, floating in midair. The armor followed a moment later, until everything was arranged as though on an invisible mannequin. Sunset Scales stared at it in awe, her ears filled with the sounds of werewolf growls, grunts and howls. She felt drawn to the altar, and slowly began to step forward. Each step was slow, careful, measured; a tiny part of her mind told her that she should turn back now, but it was too late. It was like she couldn't stop.

No...it was like she didn't want to stop, couldn't stop, as if her life depended on her reaching the altar.

None of the werewolves tried to stop her, though she could feel their eyes on her as she walked closer and closer to their altar. They sniffed at her as she went by, their eyes glued to her. There was a heat to their glance, something that surprised her. She had only felt it a few times in her life, always from other males. She'd never expected to feel that same heated glance from something like a werewolf.

Finally, she reached the altar. Unable to stand under the presence that was building with each pulse of light, she fell to her knees. She looked up at the floating weapon and armor, watching as the light slowly began to take shape. It was a tall being, wearing the armor and holding the weapon, twice as tall as a normal man. Whoever was coming, he was a very large being. Even if he had been standing on the ground, Sunset Scales would have had to lean back to be able to look him in the eye. Would have had to lean way, way back.

The grunts and howls of the werewolves got louder and louder, and the echoes in the cavern raised them to a constant deafening din. Her ears hurt, but she couldn't lift her arms to cover her ears. She couldn't even adjust her position as she knelt before the altar; something unseen was holding her completely still. The thought of being completely helpless here should have frightened her, but it didn't. She should have been trying to run away from this completely abnormal scene, but instead she was as calm as could be.

With a bright flash, the red light coalesced fully into a form. The color of blood faded away to reveal a statuesque hunter, leaning on his spear with a hand on his hip. His helm covered most of his face, leaving his eyes exposed and not much else. He looked down at her, and she looked back at him. The eyes...the eyes were so old...centuries...millennia, even, yet the face was that of someone barely over twenty.

The sight of his face - what there was of it exposed - combined with the armor and the spear told her all that she needed to know about this being's identity. This was Hircine, the Daedric lord of the hunt. This was the perfect thing for the werewolves to follow; he was the embodiment of all that the wolves did. They hunted, they tracked, they killed, and they wasted nothing of their kill. They were his perfect followers, and he was their perfect leader. No wonder the Skaal had been unable to fight off the werewolves. They had found the other half of their being, and had...well, not become perfect, but unbeatable, particularly without the being of prophecy that the shaman had mentioned.

His gaze held her attention, even as the werewolves around her began to rise and move forward. They stood around her, behind her, their furry bodies so close that she could feel the body heat coming off of them. She should have been turning to look at them, to ensure her own safety, but she couldn't. All she could do was stare up at the Daedra lord's eyes.

"You have journeyed long to reach this place of my followers," Hircine said. His voice was strong, deep, and thunderous as the storms outside, yet it passed without the echo of the canines around her. "You have passed through water and snow, through forest and plain to reach this place. Do you know why you have come here, Lizard of the Marsh?"

Sunset Scales shook her head.

A loud chuckle filled the room, the cavern almost shaking with the power behind the voice. The werewolves howled alongside the Daedra's laughter, and only fell silent when he did. At this rate, she wasn't sure how long her ears were going to hold out before she went deaf.

"I doubted that you would figure it out, female," he said, a definite smirk to his voice. He gestured with his spear towards the werewolves, each of them standing proud around her. "You see before you the perfect hunters, the most worthy followers that I could claim. They serve me without question, and their very bite is enough to convert another to my service. But they are discontent; in my service, they may track, hunt, kill and slaughter, but they have lost one thing that makes them question whether it is all worth it."

"They have lost their females."

The Argonian gasped at the revelation, turning instinctively to look around her. Either something had broken the paralysis she had been under or Hircine had allowed her the movement, because nothing held her still like earlier. Still kneeling, she was face to crotch with most of the wolves around her, and embarrassingly enough, all of them were quite male. Sheaths bobbed with hidden arousal, and many of them showed a slight hint of pink at the tips. Heavy testicles dangled beneath them, and she blushed as she felt a little swell of heat between her legs at the sight of just how large those were.

She looked from werewolf to werewolf, looking for some hint of a female, but none were to be seen. No breasts adorned a torso; no slit could be seen between a set of furry legs. Every werewolf in the cavern, of which there were many, sported only the signs of males, and the more she looked, the more aroused that they seemed to become. Initially, there had been only a few that had a little pink showing. Those ones now had a good few inches poking out, and most wolves showed a little pink out of their sheathes.

Hircine spoke, and she turned to him again. "As you can see, my followers have become only male. They cannot breed, save for with one another, and while animals might be content with this, they are not. They require the chance to breed a true female, rather than just the members of the pack that will submit to the more powerful members. They require someone that will bear their pups, and ensure that the pack lives past whatever chance and change can throw at them." The Daedra lord gestured towards the pack. "You will provide them that chance. You have been chosen to be the mother of the pack. TAKE HER!"

With a howl of triumph, the werewolves surged forward, grabbing her by the arms and legs. They yanked her back from the altar, pulling her back to a place in the center of the room. The rest of the pack cleared out of the way as she was pushed down to the ground, those holding her rapidly pulling away her clothes in tatters and shreds. Every piece of fur and leather was thrown to one corner of the room to another, leaving her completely uncovered for the first time in...well, days.

As the werewolves gazed upon her naked form, she wasn't sure what to feel. To know that her form was enough to grant the wolves harder erections and enough to make some of them begin to leak was something of a compliment. Her sunset orange scales were not always looked so favorably upon, and her breasts were definitely on the small side compared to some of the other Argonians. The darker red near her crotch and her nipples often looked like targets to her, and she wasn't sure what to think about how the werewolves looked upon her like that.

The Lord of the Hunt stepped down from his altar and stood over her. "My hounds shall enjoy you greatly," he said, his eyes flicking between her chest and her groin, remaining over her sex for a moment before looking back at her face. "As you are taken, you will change to become one of them. A scaly creature such as yourself is worthless, compared to the pack mother that you will become." He looked to the werewolf holding her right leg and nodded. "Breed her."

The order was no sooner said than done, as the werewolf leaped from her leg to between them. Sunset Scales blushed as his nose dropped between her legs, the cold wetness of his nose pressed against the much hotter wetness of her nether lips. She felt his quick snorts of her scent, felt the air rushing by her pussy. He grunted softly but harshly, the sound of a dog that had found a bitch in heat, she realized.

He leaned in closer, his thick tongue pressed against her sex. It lapped against her like a guard dog might lap at a puddle. Nevertheless, the feeling of his tongue diving against her pussy, sliding inside of her to find more of her juices, made her arch her back with a moan. She thrashed against his licks, humping her needy sex against the air. Her lips twisted in a snarl of lust and her breath came in pants in time with the licks she received. "Oh gods," she hissed as the werewolf's tongue lashed over her slit.

Whether the words had any effect on the canine was difficult to tell; however, there was no doubt that he loved the taste of her sex. He drank from it like a man denied any water for days, the broad surface covering her pussy with drool. It slid in and out, tongue fucking her before going back to lapping her sensitive pussy lips. He teased, prodded, and nuzzled his way against it, and she loved the werewolf for it.

Every one of his licks was rewarded with a small oozing of her juices, which he licked up eagerly. It must have been the first time in a long time that he had tasted a female, Sunset Scales realized with a blush. She bucked against his face a little more, begging for more of his tongue, but also wanting to treat him to the taste of her pussy. The thought that the wolves deserved to play with her pussy was in her mind now, and she couldn't shake the thought. Unable to understand why the wolves deserved that at all, the Argonian just gave in to the feelings. Werewolf tongue felt wonderful; why shouldn't she let such a good dog play with her pussy?

Her partner seemed to appreciate that, because he leaned in even closer. The tip of his muzzle pressed against her nether lips, and she could feel the pressure of his teeth behind his lips. She should have been afraid; instead, she only felt more excited, and that only got better as the wolf shoved his tongue further into her slick pussy. He was fucking her with his tongue, shoving it in and pulling it out, again and again and again. It rubbed against that sensitive spot inside her, making her gasp with pleasure.

Without warning, her orgasm rushed forward. She grabbed at the werewolf's head, holding him down against her sex so that he wouldn't stop that wonderful work with his tongue as it rushed over her. Screaming in pleasure, she ground her hips forward, almost pulling the canine's muzzle into her with the fervency of her actions. Every bit of her body felt like it was on fire, a burning blaze that centered around her crotch and only got hotter with every passing second. It burned, it seared, and she only wanted more.

Slowly the pleasure began to fade from her body, but the heat remained. It burned in her body, and it was an inferno in her sex. Her breath came in the gasps and pants and whines of a dog in heat.

The werewolf pulled back from her, grinning in that wolfish way. Without his tongue inside of her, the heat surged forth with a vengeance, her hand instinctively going down to her slit to rub it, to stroke it, and when that didn't suffice, to shove a finger inside to try and do something to assuage the need. That finger was joined by a second, and then by a third, all thrusting in and out rapidly, desperately. Before, she would have needed to be insanely aroused to do this, but now, it barely took the edge off of the need between her legs.

She looked around her, seeing every wolf looking down at her with toothy grins and full sheaths. By now, all of them were fully aroused, fully hard, and more than a few had some pre dripping off of their shafts. The most aroused even had a small puddle at their feet from their need, drops of their pre-cum sliding down their shafts and then dripping off of their balls. Sunset Scales had never considered actually licking along the hanging testes of any male, but now, she wanted to do something for them so that they'd stick those big dicks right inside of her and get rid of this need. No, not get rid of it, but...help it. She couldn't think of the term she needed, but that was as close as she could get.

The Argonian squirmed along the floor to the nearest werewolf, her rump shaking back and forth with her tail held high over her head. Every eye of the pack was on her; she could feel them, burning against her. She could hear some of them stroking themselves to the sight of her nudity, and she blushed slightly at the knowledge that they pleasured themselves to her. However, she didn't stop moving forward, and she definitely didn't stop fingering herself. She dared not stop.

The werewolf she'd chosen stepped up to her when it was clear she was walking to him. His paw grabbed hold of the base of his shaft, squeezing behind his knot, and pointed the tip down at her. The order was clear, and she obeyed, taking the tip of his member into her mouth.

Oh, gods, the taste! Salty and musky it might have been, even a little metallic, but it was a rush to her senses. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she ran her tongue along the tip of his cock, the end of her tongue teasing the little hole in the end of his cock. Every touch she gave it coaxed out a little more of his pre, and she gulped it down eagerly like the breeding female that she was going to become.

That thought, formerly so strange and almost terrifying, appealed to her to no end now. Her free hand reached up to cup the balls of the werewolf, rolling them around in the palm of her scaled hand. It encouraged more pre to flow out, and she swallowed that just as happily as she began to bob up and down along his shaft.

Suddenly a furred paw caressed her rump, and she tore her lips off of the werewolf's shaft to look over her shoulder. Another canine was walking up behind her, brushing her hand out of the way of her pussy and lining himself up to take her. She moaned as her hand was taken away, but grinned as the wolf slammed himself into her sex. Being filled up with a cock...the heat wasn't gone, but it didn't burn at her like it had been. Yes, that was it; she was a breeder bitch, and she needed to be filled with cock to feel right.

As she was taken relentlessly from behind, the werewolf she'd been sucking off shoved her hands away from his cock. Instead, he placed his paw at the back of her head and shoved her down his length, starting to fuck her snout. Every thrust took him balls deep in her mouth and throat, the tip spitting pre juice down her throat and into her stomach. She almost wished that he'd keep his cock on his tongue, so that she could taste it, but being fed the pre was good too.

The two werewolves pulled her back and forth between them, the one plugging her mouth shoving her down his cock when the one behind pulled out, and vice versa. Her formerly tight hole quickly opened to allow the werewolf to fuck her as hard as he wanted, and she was soon moaning under the assault. If she had her mouth free, she would have been yelling for more, but as it was, her moans were all the encouragement needed.

Werewolf after werewolf approached her, some sniffing at her sides, others moving in close to brush their erections against her smooth scales. One or two even reached down to her chest, grabbing at her nipples and pulling at them, tugging them outwards. Every touch pulled a moan from her lips and brought her heat even higher, brought her need surging forward. Panting, she bucked back and forth between the two males, impaling her throat with the cock before her, and slamming against the knot of the werewolf behind her. Even that imposing thickness didn't scare her anymore. More than anything, she wanted to pull that into her and make her partners cum; she wanted to feel their seed splattering against her, filling her, to calm the fires of her heat.

It didn't take long before the werewolves along her flanks began to spew their pre upon her scales, the musky, thin fluid slowly rolling off of her, dripping from her sides. She moaned softly at the feeling of being covered with their pre, bucking faster and faster, encouraging the werewolves at both ends to take her harder, faster, rougher.

As her lusts grew, so did something else. She could see her scales slowly sink away to be replaced by fur, a dark brown pelt slowly growing in. It itched badly, almost enough to make her pull back from the males before her. However, even the thought of stopping this sex to scratch, no matter the relief, only made her heat burn all the hotter. So she was forced to ignore it, remaining still between the wolves as they stuffed her snout - soon becoming a muzzle - and her pussy with their cocks and their cum.

The knot of the werewolf behind her finally slipped past her pussy lips with a wet slurp, locking inside of her. She cried out at the feeling of something so wide inside of her, and that allowed the werewolf she was sucking to slide his knot inside. Her lips locked down around it, holding it inside as he humped hard in fast, short motions.

From there, it didn't take long for either canine to cum. They howled in unison as they pumped their loads into her holes, the hot cum splattering against her throat and her womb. It burned just like her heat, but it also cooled her needs, at least a little bit. Enough for her to be able to think again, at least. She blushed as her lusts abated slightly, looking from side to side at the wolves around her. Not a one had softened, all of them looking as needy as the ones that plugged her from both ends. They all wanted her as well.

Hircine looked down at her with a smile. "This is the first of many matings you will go through," he said, his voice just holding back a chuckle. He reached down and stroked along her back, and she felt her fur thicken further at his touch, her scales completely gone now. With each second he touched her, her body changed further, muscles growing and thickening beneath her limbs, and her fur growing thicker and thicker, more than that of the other wolves.

"You will be a perfect pack mother, relieving my hunters before and after every hunt, raising the pups, and protecting the young," the Daedra Lord said. His words wormed their way into her skull, and she moaned softly at both the thoughts and the feeling of the werewolf behind her slipping free of her sex. "You will become the perfect mother, the perfect mate of the hunters. You will raise a pack of hunters that will rule this island, and will worship me forever."

Sunset Scales...no, that name no longer fit. What was her name now? She didn't know, but she knew what she was. She was the Breeder. She was the Mother. She slowly pulled her lips off of the softening member in her mouth and bowed her head to the Daedra Lord in obeisance. She would obey, and she would fulfill the duty that he placed on her.

The Hunter laid his hand upon her forehead, and she groaned softly at the power she felt behind that touch, the authority that the Daedra Lord held. "Change now to your new form, and become the Pack Mother," he said.

Pack Mother nodded, her body suddenly tingling with the power of the Hunter. She fell to her knees, then to all fours as the tingling rushed through her. It touched her face, her chest, her arms and her legs. It surged through her belly and down her back, through her tail and through her mind. Everywhere it touched, her remaining lizard features faded and the wolfish ones grew in. Her muzzle thickened, her ears grew out and become pointed. Her tail shortened down to a smaller, more curvy tail that showed off her sex and offered no way to hide it.

As her arms thickened and her back hunched forward, forcing her to remain bent over, she slowly stood up. Pack Mother turned to face the wolves of her pack, watching them as they watched her. They stared at her chest, and she looked down past her thickened muzzle to see her formerly modest breasts growing outwards. They grew and grew until they rivaled the milk sacs of the most busty bar maid, filled with rich milk to feed the young that she would soon bear.

With the changes complete, her heat returned. Her pussy was already drenched in the seed of a male, but it had happened when she was still changing, so there was no chance that she was already pregnant. Pack Mother grinned, lowering a paw to her sex and rubbing it quickly, eagerly, while she gestured to the pack - HER pack, HER males - with the other. "Breed me," she commanded in a growling voice.

The pack responded en masse, charging forward and pinning her to the floor. Eagerly, Pack Mother spread her legs and exposed her sex to her males, begging them with whines and whimpers to fill her. And they obeyed.

One male slipped between her legs immediately, his hands on her thighs as he pumped his cock into her pussy. Even his knot slipped inside of her, since she was loosened up from the other male, and this werewolf was a little bit smaller. It didn't matter though; her heat demanded that she be filled and seeded, and any size of cock would do for her now.

Another male almost sat on her neck, placing his shaft between her breasts. With a moan, she reached up with her hands and pressed her breasts together, holding them in place as he started to thrust between them. His rump was right in her face, his tailhole puckering before her eyes. Grinning, Pack Mother licked at it, teasing her male.

Her licks surprised the male, and he backed up against her muzzle. In return, she tongue fucked his hole, shoving her tongue past his rim and into his rump, thrusting back and forth, filling and emptying him in time with his thrusts between his breasts.

Meanwhile, the werewolf slamming into her sex growled and yipped in pleasure. His cock might have been a little smaller than the other male, but he knew how to use it, slamming it in and out faster and faster. The way his knot slipped between her pussy lips with every thrust added something delicious to it too, making it seem larger than it really was. Growling in her own pleasure, she arched her back to invite him in further.

He took that invitation and then some; Pack Mother was almost shoved back by the greater force with which the male slammed in, his cock reaching in deep. Every thrust made a wet slorp sort of sound into her and made her wetter and wetter as his pre and her pussy juice mixed together.

The aroma of the cavern was growing steadily more sexual, more musky, more sweaty, more primal. The pack gathered around her, some males stroking themselves, others giving into their needs and humping the males beside them. Various groups broke off to indulge each other as they waited for their turn with the Pack Mother. It didn't bother her; she would get their dicks in her pussy before long. None of them would be able to resist her.

The male between her legs didn't last long. His cock throbbed inside her before shooting its load, joining the pool of cum already inside of her. It dripped into her heat like water over a fire, steaming before it could make the slightest dent in her need. Growling in frustration, she shoved the male away with her leg, and shoved the male on her chest to the side.

Before he could complain or growl at her, she pounced on top of him, pinning him down with her greater strength. She grabbed his cock and held it behind the knot, aiming it towards her sex before dropping down on him, taking him up to the knot in one move. This male was thicker than the other, and his knot wouldn't slide in so easily. Good. She growled lustfully at him, grinning at his shock at being used like this. Her paws pressed against his chest as she started lifting herself along his cock and then dropping back down, starting fast and getting faster.

Two of the pack stepped forward, both needy and aroused, dripping with pre cum. Pack Mother saw them, and invited them close. One stepped behind her, lifting her tail further, while the other stepped forward to her muzzle. She smiled at both of them before leaning forward, taking the cock of the male in front of her into her mouth. Sucking softly, she bobbed on it in time her riding of the male below her.

It was on one of her riding bounces that the male behind her managed to get his cock up her tailhole. The pressure back there was extreme, verging on pain, and she froze for a moment, gasping in surprise. The males, however, weren't about to let her stop. The one in her hole pulled her back onto his chest, while the one she sucked moved to keep himself in her mouth. The one she had been riding quickly dove back into her pussy, fucking her like crazy, his knot battering at her pussy lips.

Pack Mother didn't fight their dominance, this time; her body screamed for relief for its heat, and this was giving it some form of relief. She gasped and growled and groaned in pleasure as the three males fed her holes pre, and bucked against them all. Her breasts bounced up and down on her chest, and the werewolves still watching reached out and grabbed her by the nipples, squeezing them, teasing them. Every member of the pack wanted to have the chance to use her, to breed her, and cum in or on her.

With all the attention she was getting, it didn't take her long at all to reach her climax. She howled around the cock in her mouth, her entire body shaking and trembling under the force of her orgasm. The males didn't stop fucking her, only stuffing her holes harder, which extended her orgasm even further, her pussy squirting her juices from just how horny she was.

Just when she hit the end of her orgasm, the males knotted with her, slamming their cocks into her pussy, tailhole, and mouth at the same time. The one in her mouth could still slide out, but the knots in her pussy and her rear were not going to come out until the males were completely soft again. The feeling of being so full was wonderful, and Pack Mother reclined against her males. She stroked the balls of the one in her mouth, her throat swallowing his load down into her stomach as her body settled into a brief afterglow.

Something told her that the male in her pussy had gotten her pregnant. She wasn't quite sure how she knew; maybe it was something to do with her heat feeling a little...different, but maybe it was something else. For a moment, she considered letting the mating stop there.

Then she looked at the other males looking down at her from every corner of the cavern, and Pack Mother chuckled. No, she wouldn't let any of her males go wanting, and besides, she needed to breed. She might not be pregnant after all, and the males would need to be able to go Skaal tomorrow without the need to breed on their minds. She was the only one around that would be able to make sure that they wouldn't have that sort of distraction on their minds.

Growling and chuckling, Pack Mother looked around the room, debating which male to pick next.