Soren's Early Years; Part Five
#5 of Soren's Early Years
Part five; Soren encounters a unique character with a good heart, but battling an inner demon, and Ambros struggles to find his mate.
Soren's Early Years; Part Five
Tielo couldn't understand why she would just leave. She could've at least tried to revive him, or buried him if he was dead. Maybe she wasn't as strong as she acted. He had never suffered a loss like she had, so he didn't know what a normal reaction would be.
He heard a long, sorrowful howl in the distance. Recognizing Soren's voice, he started that direction. Good grief, she was faster than he thought.
The woods were so much darker than she remembered. The first week was hell. Her mind spun in circles, keeping her awake all night. She didn't eat, didn't drink. Just ran. Racing through the trees, leaping over fallen branches, running as hard as she could, until either collapsing from exhaustion or tripping and rolling to a stop because her tears blocked her vision.
Blood still remained in her fur, although her wounds had healed. Images of Ambros were everywhere...in the knots of trees, clouds, even patches of grass. She was supposed to be a strong alpha, with no weakness, but she had allowed someone in, and when she wasn't sobbing, she was angry.
Back and forth, alternating between agonizing sorrow and fierce anger, was exhausting.
One day, almost two weeks after Ambros was killed, Soren finally took notice that she was no longer in her home forest. She had been running with such intense focus, that she nearly flung herself off a sheer cliff. The cliff was hundreds of feet above water, which stretched out across the horizon.
She stood still for several moments, unsure of her next move. She caught the scent of prey, most likely a deer. Just like that, she was off. The white Wulf captured the meal, and ravaged it like a wild beast.
Hunger slated, Soren wandered aimlessly through the thinning forest, eventually breaking to a series of rolling hills coated with lush grasses. She paused, resting a hand subconciously on her belly.
After gorging herself on deer, she wrote off her bulging belly as a food baby. But food babies don't kick. Or shift around like this. Maybe...?
It was a small cave, naturally born into a rockpile, covered in thick undergrowth and sheltered by a large tree. It was no castle, but it was better than curling in a sad little ball up against a tree.
Soren was busy trying to find bedding materials, when a jolt of pain rocked her guts. She gasped and fell to her knees, clutching her fat belly.
"I'm not ready for this..." she whispered, and whimpered as another pain washed through. She moaned and rolled onto her back.
A crack of branches drew her attention...to a Wulf.
"Leave me alone!" Soren screamed, a little more feminine than she wanted.
"You're by yourself here..." the Wulf ventured. His voice was smooth, his eyes kind. His body language suggested he was neither alpha or omega.
"Go away." Soren moaned.
"Let me help you, please. My cabin isn't far."
Soren looked at him. He had sleek fur, a kind of mottled grey and white, with undertones of black. His blue eyes were set in a soft-featured face. The grey on his muzzle indicated he was aged better than she.
She was alone. Pregnant on the verge of birth. A stranger to these woods. She had no ill instinctual feelings about this Wulf, so she reluctantly agreed.
"My name is Sigmund. Sigmund Wolff." he said as he helped her to her feet.
"Wolff?" Soren looked at him sideways.
"Was my name when I was human, and I kept it." Sigmund smiled. Soren grinned back, and they made their way to his cabin.
A small, timber frame cabin nestled in the trees greeted the Wulfs as they approached. Sigmund opened the door and let her inside.
It was a single room cabin, with all handmade furniture. A stone fireplace fronted by a thick bearskin rug on one side, a simple kitchen, and a good-sized bed with matching drawers on the other.
"It's not much, but for an old lone wolf like me, it's all I need." Sigmund smiled again, easing Soren's apprehension. He left her resting in front of the fire and set about making soup.
Soren clutched her belly as another cramp took hold.
"It won't be too much longer. Just try to relax." Sigmund spoke as if he had been there, done that.
Soren glared in his direction. Try to relax. Yeah.
Tielo stopped pursuing Soren after a couple of days. He lost her scent when the winds kicked up, and she had been running so fast, her prints were indistinguishable from wild dogs.
Returning to Dante, he felt guilty for giving up. She was out there somewhere, thinking her mate was dead. Probably she was pregnant too.
Tielo stopped. Hopefully it was Ambros' pups, and not the werewolf's. He didn't peg Soren as being suicidal, but having to birth a creature from a stressful situation as that...
"I take it you lost her." Dante said coolly.
"You know I'm not a tracker. I lost her in the valley." Tielo kept his eyes on the floor.
"We have to head that direction as soon as he is well enough to move. Soren needs to know he is alive."
"Barely." Tielo peered over at Ambros. His breathing was less shallow, his wounds slowly healing, but still remained unconscious.
"He will get there." Dante sighed.
"That's one hell of a story." Sigmund said over a steaming bowl of soup.
"It's true." She grimaced. The cramps were fairly spaced apart, but slowly getting closer.
"So you have never given birth?" The old Wulf asked, finishing his soup.
"No." Soren reached for her bowl tentatively, hoping another jolt of pain wouldn't intervene.
"I have seen many ladies birth, and assisted in all cases. You have nothing to worry about. You're young and healthy, with excellent hips."
"What? Were you some sort of midwife or something?" Soren cast a quizzical look in his direction. The Wulf laughed.
"No, dear, no. They were my mates. We lived in a large polygamist colony. We believed in equality...no alphas, no omegas...just lived with each other. Everyone did whatever job needed to be done, no questions asked or commands given. Being the way we were was very unpopular with other Wulf packs, so we got attacked all the time."
Soren wondered how much of a hippy this guy was. She focused on her soup instead.
"When the other packs realized they were no match for our sheer numbers, they snuck in one night and burned us to the ground." Sigmund lifted his arm, exposing a patch scar on his side. "This fur will never grow back."
His cheerful and pleasant demeanor changed, his face portrayed a deep hurt, one Soren was no longer unfamiliar with. She stared at him, her soup forgotten.
"I couldn't save anyone. Not one. I got this scar for trying." Sigmund seemed to withdraw into a dark place, his eyes almost glazing over, as if he was living the nightmare over again.
Another severe pang rocked her, this one worse than the others, causing her to double over. The old wolf smiled.
"You're almost there, sweetie."
"Don't...call me...sweetie..." she gasped.
"My apologies, mistress. I keep forgetting you're an alpha." he smirked at her, the kindness returning to his expressions.
Sigmund helped her lay back. The pain was almost a constant dull ache, with the occasional stab.
The old male split her legs apart, lifted her ass up so he could spread a blanket underneath. He bent down and gently licked at her hot sex.
"What are you doing...?" Soren yelped, trying to pull away, but he held her in place.
"Just relax. I know what I'm doing. Just helping to stimulate you." Sigmund went back down, resuming his slow, careful licks. He slid the tip of his tongue inside, swirling softly at the walls. He pressed his muzzle against her, reaching his tonge deep into contact with her cervix. Soren growled.
"You are very dilated." Sigmund placed himself between her bent legs, holding her thighs, anticipating the first puppy.
The pain amplified as the first puppy was pushed through. Soren howled as she felt herself widening beyond her normal size, stretching around the lumpy foreign body.
A tiny squeak, followed by a whimper, told Soren the first puppy was almost out. She gave a push, and felt the release. Sigmund caught the puppy, and began washing the birthing fluids off. He swiftly cut the umbilical, and placed the new arrival gently to the side. Another cry, and puppy two was out. The third came even faster, almost as if they were happy to be free of the womb.
Sigmund wrapped the trio in a warm blanket together, making them look like a stack of giant caterpillars. Each puppy was almost as big around as Soren's calf, and looked like non-anthro puppies.
Her belly was still bulging slightly. She tried to push, but the last puppy refused to come out.
"Hold still, hon." Sigmund dunked his arm up to the elbow in warm water from a bucket that Soren didn't remember him bringing over. He pressed his fingers together, and gently pushed his hand inside her. He gradually pushed past her cervix, causing Soren to whimper and squirm. Finally, he broke through into her womb, feeling carefully around. His hand contacted something...he felt a paw, and a leg. It was slimier than expected, but he felt up to the body, carefully cupping it in his hand and coaxing it around. It seemed to shy away, but as soon as he pulled his hand back out of her, the offspring seemed to follow.
Sigmund removed his hand completely, and Soren pushed. She cried out in pain as the last puppy tried to dig its claws in. Sigmund reached his fingers in, finding the puppy, and assisting it forward.
With a final push, the last pup was out. Soren collapsed, panting and weakened. Sigmund didn't touch the new puppy. It had put up a fight because it wasn't ready yet.
It was a first for him, seeing a werewolf puppy grow up in the same womb as normal puppies, conceived at different times. Impossible.
Ambros opened his eyes the second week. He was able to sit up, but the extreme loss of blood had taken a toll on him. Even rapidly-healing Wulfs need blood to survive. He eagerly tore at the elk meat Dante provided.
"Can you stand?" Dante asked one day.
"I don't know. It took alot just to sit up." Ambros looked down at his legs.
"Try anyways."
The Wulf rolled onto his hip, then pulled his legs up under him. He placed his hands on either side, then slowly pushed up onto his feet, staying in a low crouch.
"Keep going."
Ambros glared at the black Wulf. When did he get so demanding? He moved a hand to the wall, trying to stabilize his shaky legs. With a heave, he was up on twos. So long as he didn't move, he could hold himself up.
"Good. We leave tomorrow." Dante turned back around and busied himself. Ambros growled, and sank back down.
"Where to?" As Ambros looked around the cave, he realized he was alone. Tielo and Dante were there, but his mate wasn't. He suddenly felt like he'd swallowed a brick. He had passed out after she dragged him outside. But he had seen her charge back into the burning house. He was on his weak legs in an instant, trying to get to Dante, but collapsed just out of reach.
"Where is she?" the Wulf cried out, reaching to grab hold of Dante's arm.
"She survived...."
"She ripped his head off!" Tielo interrupted, almost gleefully. Dante shot a sharp look at Tielo, causing him to shrink back.
"She thought you were dead. She went back in, tore Ingvarr to pieces, and came back. I guess she never felt this kind of loss, because she took off. I sent Tielo after her, but he was not fast enough." Dante glared at his submissive, who tried to shrink back even further.
"She doesn't know I'm alive." Ambros stared at his paws. "We need to go."
"You can barely walk now. We will leave tomorrow. Keep trying to walk tonight, it will work your muscles and bring the strength back."
Ambros crawled back over to the grass bed by the wall, and kept trying to stand without shaking.
Tielo slunk over to his master, curling up against his side, and damn near purring when Dante began stroking his fur.
It was just as ugly as the adults. Thin, wiry hair, wicked little claws, pale skin. It was already excreting some sort of odor. It hadn't come close to being fully developed, probably still needed another week, so it's eyes were a creepy milky white. Sigmund cut the umbilical, and tried to conceal the thing, although he knew Soren would....
Sit up like a lightning bolt raced her spine, nose to the air. She looked at her puppy burritos, then down at the THING whimpering between her legs.
Soren let out an ungodly scream, backing away from the creature. She went into a primal mode, going from fear to anger in an instant. She bared her teeth and snarled at the creature.
The old Wulf held up his hands, trying to calm her.
"It's already dying. You're ok, just calm down..." Sigmund tried to reassure her, but he knew too well how difficult dealing with she-wolves could be.
Soren kept her distance, fur raised, growling, as Sigmund wrapped the now dead werewolf into a blanket, and took it outside. Soren followed behind, watching as he dug a shallow grave and buried the beast.
The she-wolf went back to the fireplace, where her three pups basked. They were adorable. Two of them had reddish brown fur, with hints of white, and the third was all brown. Just like Ambros. She held all three close, laying down on her side facing the fireplace. They mewled and burrowed into her fur.
The all brown was first to find her swollen breast. It snuggled up against, seeking out the nipple. The other two heard the suckling, and tried to find their own. Soren pulled one up to her other breast, helping it find the nipple. The third tried to suckle on her belly button. She giggled at the tickle, and just let it do what it wanted while the other two fed.
Sigmund got down on his knees behind Soren, using his muzzle to lift her leg and began licking at her, cleaning the birth and blood off of her. She instinctively allowed him. She rolled onto her back, opening her legs to him, the two puppies hanging onto their respective nipples. Puppy three curled up against her side.
The old Wulf lapped all around her belly, licking around her asshole, cleaning her tail, polishing her fur back to white. He sought out her pussy lips, suckling at them to pull the afterbirth off, then sliding his tongue in and out of her stretched cavern. He pressed his muzzle against her, reaching his tongue as far into her as possible.
Soren enjoyed the attention, the submission he showed, not to her dominance, but to her power to breed. Despite this, she still pictured Ambros. Ambros' tongue, Ambros' gentle hands, Ambros' love. A tear escaped her eye, rolling off her cheek. She pulled the third puppy onto her chest, forcing the first to surrender its nipple. The new mother held all three warm puppies tight, burying her muzzle into their fur.
Ambros was uneasy. Uneasy in an excited way. He could walk now, albeit slowly.
Dante and Tielo packed some supplies they'd foraged, and started towards the last place Tielo had seen signs of Soren.
The valley was packed with trees, and was thick enough that Dante didn't think Soren would travel that way. She would've been running fast enough, that tight undergrowth would've damn near stopped her. He steered them towards the ridge above.
The trio spent the better part of the day just getting to the top of the ridge.
Ambros collapsed.
"We will camp here." Dante said.
"This is impossible. She had almost two weeks head start, and was running. You know how fast she is." Ambros looked pained. "She could be long gone by now."
"Stop that right now. You were always the happy one. The annoying little brother I never needed. You were the optimist. Soren loves you, and no matter where she is now, you need to find her. Regardless of how you feel now. She is somewhere alone, possibly pregnant, and needs you." Dante spoke directly at him, his eyes unwavering.
Ambros said nothing, just rolled over facing away. He felt it was impossible to find her now. Her tracks had been washed away or destroyed, her scent long faded. He knew she was alive, could feel it, but the odds were stacked against him. He wondered how long until she found a new mate. The thought of it turned his stomach. He never called her his out loud, but he felt an angry jealousy burn at him. He would shred whatever male touched her next.
The sun peeked through the window, bathing the Wulfs in warm light. Soren passed out during the evening, all three puppies curled into fuzzy little balls against her belly. Sigmund cozied up behind her, his arms wrapped around her body.
The fire in the fireplace was down to embers. One of the puppies sneezed, startling Soren awake. She stroked the puppy's head, and it looked up at her with blue eyes. She stopped. It wasn't even a full day aged, and its eyes were open?
Sigmund released her, and she looked over her shoulder at him.
"What are you doing?" she demanded.
"I'm keeping you warm." he replied. She glared at him. "I'm sorry. I get easily attached, and it's been a very long time. I love breeding, and your body is just perfect for it."
"I appreciate everything you've done, but you know I can't stay." Soren tried to tread lightly.
"I understand. You are a traditional alpha, and I can't be that submissive to you. But please stay. At least for a while."
"Strictly platonic. And just until my pups are old enough to run with me." Soren said. He didn't seem to care much that she just lost her mate. Only cared that she was a fertile female, and a ripe age.
He reluctantly agreed. She would still keep an eye on him though. He seemed harmless enough, just had a fetish that he couldn't act on until yesterday. And now that she had given birth, she was a prime candidate for more.
Sigmund lifted himself off the floor and headed ouside. She watched him carefully through the window as he selected a tree and let loose his morning stream. He was perky, and a good portion of his cock was exposed, forcing him to hold it down. She expected him to return after relieving himself, but he stayed in place, holding his dick with both hands now, massaging it.
She wanted to look away, but was fixated. Despite all her human emotions, her primal side still loved sexual activity, and she enjoyed watching cocks being used.
It was thinner than average, but longer (better for breeding, he would say). He ran his one hand up and down the shaft, coaxing pre-cum from it, while massaging his balls with the other. His knot started to swell as he worked himself. He moved the balls hand to the knot, rubbing it while he continued stroking the shaft.
Soren sensed something, and turned around to see one of her puppies (the brown one) had crawled away. She retrieved it from under the small table, and held it close. It seeked out her nipple and suckled hungrily as she turned back to the window.
Sigmund's knot had swollen to twice its size, and he was leaning against the tree now, fucking into his hands aggressively. Finally, a stream of white splattered the tree trunk, and he continued working his hands along the shaft, making sure he was dry.
Soren backed away from the window, taking her pup back over in front of the fireplace. The other two crawled into her lap, and she took them one at a time and offered a breast.
The door opened, letting a light spring breeze wisp inside. Sigmund walked in, shutting the door behind him. He still had a couple inches of pink sticking out from his sheath, but he tried his best to conceal it. Soren tried her best to ignore it.
Each day was the same. He tried to play husband and father, she kept her puppies to herself and spent most of her time outside training them. Every day, the puppies nearly doubled in size. They grew to resemble wolfdogs, staying on all fours, speaking only in woofs and growls, and acting like typical puppies. Soren grew frustrated, realizing they were basically just wolves. They seemed to understand she was their mother, but they weren't Wulfs.
Angus, the all brown, was the quietest of the trio, a definite omega male. Ambros' blood for sure. The other two, Havoc and Raegan, were future alphas. Havoc was becoming a lean, beautiful she-wolf, her fur lightening into a brilliant white, almost mimicking her mother. Raegan stayed a mottled brown/white, but was building a muscular figure to be respected.
Some days, it was all play. It felt as if Soren had never been human at all, and was always a wolf. She was always alpha to her pups, but she wondered when it would end; when they would strike out on their own. She hoped Havoc and Raegan would be fair alphas, and that Angus would at least try to live up to his strong name.
Even though Sigmund left her alone with her puppies outside, she caught him staring out the window, a lust in his eyes. It shouldn't be more than a couple more days...Soren watched her pups play...and they could run.
The brown Wulf slunk through the undergrowth, paws barely making a sound. He backed up to a thick tree, peered around it at the single deer. With a single easy motion, he brought up the crossbow, sighted, and fired one bolt at the deer's vitals. It made a panicked sound, and only got about ten feet away before falling.
Ambros calmly walked over to it, leaning over and slitting its throat, just to keep it from suffering its internal bleeding any further.
"See? The days of using teeth and claws are over. I'm working on a new type of weapon that uses a controlled explosion within a small case to fire a projectile at high velocity. I will call it the 'projector'." Tielo slid in beside Ambros to help process the deer.
"You may want to think more on the name. It sounds kind of lame." Ambros smiled at the young wolf.
"How about the 'boom stick'?"
"Now that sounds childish."
"'Fire stick'?"
Ambros grinned and shook his head, elbows deep in the deer, slicing the guts for removal.
"Fine. 'Fire arm'."
"Does it have arms?"
"No...." Tielo paused, "but you 'arm' someone with it."
"Keep thinking on it." Ambros pulled the gut pile out, "let's get this back to camp. We'll let Dante fillet it out, since he had such an issue with the way we did it last time."
Tielo snorted lightly in good humor, and picked up the front legs. As Ambros lifted the deer by the antlers, he suddenly froze. The wind had picked up, and while most blasted over the treetops, some drifted down between the stalks, bringing with it new scent.
The deer head dropped to the ground with a dull thud, Ambros' nose up in the air, his body frozen while he processed the new scent.
"What is it?" Tielo ventured, dropping the deer's legs and readying the crossbow, "Is it dangerous?"
"No....it's....familiar." Ambros took a slow step, sniffing in a different direction, even cocking his head slightly. "It smells like....Soren. But also not."
Ambros stopped, looking in the direction of the breeze. "It's old, faint, and diluted, but it's her."
"We need to get the deer back to camp, and we'll tell Dante." Tielo said.
"Can you handle it by yourself? I need to go."
"Dante will want you to wait, so we can plan this out and..."
"Dante is not MY alpha!" Ambros whirled on Tielo, getting nose to nose with the startled Wulf.
"O..o..ok...what do I tell him?"
"Tell him the direction I'm heading. And thanks for everything. You both don't need to help me; I know he is eager for you two to start your own life together." Ambros relaxed back, letting Tielo relax himself, "I need to find her. I know she's alive. But this is my thing."
"Ok. I will tell him. Good luck, Ambros."
"Thank you. Good luck to you too." Ambros turned tail, and raced into the wind, bounding inbetween trees and over fallen logs as if spurred along by the devil himself.
Tielo looked down at the hefty deer.
"Now how the hell am I going to drag this back to camp?"
Soren rested in front of the fire after a long day attempting to train her wolfdogs. Her legs ached from chasing after them, and she tweaked her back during a play session. Sigmund brought her a cup of hot tea, and wrapped a blanket over her shoulders. Angus curled up with his head in her lap, and Havoc and Raegan were sprawled out across the floor.
The evening brought a cool spring breeze, which Sigmund gladly welcomed through the cabin. It helped to wash the delicious scent of female pheromones out, so he could try to continue being a gentleman.
After only moments, all the creatures in the cabin were sound asleep, except the old Wulf himself. He sat next to Soren, slowly running his fingers through her mane, lingering on the side of her face.
"I wish you would stay, or at least give me pups of my own. You have no idea how lonely it is out here. I had everything, and now nothing. Even wolfdog pups are better than nothing."
Havoc yawned, and stretched, lifting her ass high up in the air, her slightly curled tail like a flag waving in a light breeze. Sigmund stared directly at her exposed ass, the puckered hole, and the tight breeding entrance below. His cock began to rise in response.
Sigmund turned back to Soren as Havoc reset and drifted back to sleep. "If you won't give me what I want, I will find it elsewhere." He held her muzzle in his palm, running his thumb across her nose and lips, then lifted his old body off the floor and retreated to his bed. Once there, he gazed across the cabin at the she-wolves, rubbing himself to full mast, and eventually soiling his bedsheets with an aggressive, powerful stream of seed.
To be continued...