When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Xajow on 07-01-2012, 18:08:35</h2>
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				Title: <strong>When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>07-01-2012, 18:08:35</strong>
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				The large black wolf wandered through the woods alone. The others of his kind had been killed or scattered. There was no one to understand his plight. He walked slowly through the trees. His large padded feet made hardly a sound. He watched his surroundings with icy green eyes and his ears and his nose. He was on a bear’s territory, and perhaps not far from the bear’s lair.<br><br>The wolf saw the bear cubs, and he stopped. In the distance they played and tumbled over the forest floor. He stepped closer to watch. He had no offspring of his own. No family left. He watched the bear cubs silently. The mother bear was upwind, and so she smelled the wolf before he smelled her.<br><br>He heard her running through the trees just moments before she arrived. He ran a short distance to escape her, and then stopped. The bear growled. The wolf growled back. He was not in a good mood. Neither was the bear. The bear charged, and the wolf turned and ran. Large as he was, he was not stupid enough to want to fight an angry mother bear who believed she was protecting her cubs.<br><br>And a simple chase it would have been, like a thousand others the wolf had experienced. After a short distance, the bear would stop chasing and go back to her cubs. And the wolf would continue his lonely wandering. Except the bear chased the wolf a little longer than he expected. They ran up a hill which, unknown to the wolf, a hard rain had washed away a large chunk of the opposite side. When he saw the sharp drop, he tried to stop and turn, but his normally surefooted steps landed on a weak spot of soft earth. The ground gave way, and he fell from the hill to the much harder ground below.<br><br>The bear managed to stop and look over the side of the broken earth. She snorted and turned to go back to her cubs. The wolf lay still. When the sounds of the bear receded, he howled in pain. The fall had broken his right foreleg and cracked a rib.<br><br>He lay still for a while, breathing and whimpering in pain. Eventually he got to his feet, careful not to put any weight on his broken leg. He only had to go a short distance before he smelled the scent of a human presence. A human might mean help. He walked slowly and carefully toward the source of the scent. He found a large cabin that looked well maintained. The scent of a human, perhaps a female human, was strong. Which meant she might be inside. But a female human might not help him.<br><br>There was something else in the air. Strange scents he could not immediately identify. He wondered what the woman did that would create such unusual scents.<br><br>In any case, he could not count on a human woman being willing to help a large, wild, black wolf. But she might take help a human male. To transform with broken bones would be extremely painful. But what else was there to do?<br><br>He stilled himself and breathed deeply. He forced himself to focus on transformation. He gritted his teeth and growled loudly as the change began. Limbs elongated and muscles redistributed themselves. His snout shortened and his face became more human. But the transformation intensified the pain of his injuries. The cracked rib broke, and the wolf-tranforming-into-a-man howled in new pain. Fur receded and vanished. The wolf had been replaced by a man.<br><br>Naked, and with a broken right arm, he stood up slowly. The pain was intense. He was a tall man, with a lean, hard body. His shoulder length hair was black and disheveled. His narrow eyes were pale green. His lips were thin and pulled back in a grimace of pain.<br><br>“Fuck,” he whispered. “This had better work.” He began to walk toward the cabin. “Oh fuck,” he whispered again as he became lightheaded. The energy needed for transformation had drained him more than he had anticipated. “Oh damn,” he said as he stopped walking and swayed on his feet. He sunk to his knees. He was only a few steps from the cabin, but his body would not stand up. He leaned forward to begin to crawl, but he simply collapsed to the ground. He tried to get up, but only managed to roll over and lay on his back.<br><br>How long had it been since he had eaten? He could not remember. Was there someone coming from the cabin? He could not tell as he lost consciousness.
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				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>08-01-2012, 01:36:25</strong>
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				Winter nights seemed to remind her of all she had lost. It was upon a night such as this that Rosalyn Rocheshire was forever known as Rosalyn the Witch. Born the only daughter of a wealthy merchant, she was well-known fixture the pool of suiteable women once she reached of age to marry. She, however had secrets upon her person that only a few were privy to. She was blessed with gifts of both nature and mind. She was able to conjure fire with her hands and see glimpses of future events in her mind. She was forever cautious with such abilities, hiding them from even her most closest confidants. Her nature was very serene, Never truly having raised her voice in anger and forever patient with even the smallest of problems. All had been well as she grew into a woman, until the night her ball, signaling her official entrance into society as an eligible woman.<br><br>Upon that evening, she twittered about the crowds of people, ever cautious of her racing mind and her weary apprehension of men. Dressed in a gown of satin burgundy, Rosalyn adjusted a few of curls before she took her place on the floor and began a simple waltz with a lad from her youth. Some of the men, had been drinking and she knew to stay clear of them. She hated the way they gazed upon her. One who was tainted with drink, lunged towards her and she raised her hands in fear and created a wall of fire to ward the leecher off. Everyone deemed her witch and she cast out from the comforts of her home and her family. <br><br>Her father, however, could not let her live on the streets. She was still his only little girl, and had a cottage built deep into the woods to protect her from the harshness the world had set upon her. He had secured her a wealthy dowry and trust in her name for her needs for the rest of days. He also sent supplies to her weekly before the winter months so she was amply prepared.&nbsp; In the spirng, he made the journey to visit and ensure himself that she faired will. She longed for his company even now. No one would be there to visit her lonely cottage for another few months, the weather hindering all of her companions' visits. <br><br>In her solitude, she master the healing arts, something she could learn and use as a skill to trade for supplies if needed. In her spare time, she read the many books that she collect over the years and sewed garments she could later barter. She kept an old cane beside her bed, in case she needed to protect herself as well as an ax by the back door. She heard something outside her door and frowned. Who could be out on such a dangerous evening? Many could become lost and die from the elements. Her heart ached at the mere idea. Grabbing a log, she carefully walked to the door as she heard someone cursing and then something heavy fall against the door. Opening it, preparing to swing, she saw a man unconscious and nude. <br><br>"Oh Goodness, what matter has you out in this storm." She attempted to drag him into his cottage and after several moments, he was in her bed, having to resort to lifting him on a linen and dragging him into her warm home. She checked over his body, providing a sheet over his nude form and saw bruises on his chest and head. She allowed soft pressure to his side and felt the broken rib, and set her sights on binding him. It took her the better part of the hour to wrap the linens tight enough about her muscled chest. Leaning him back and forth to get the bandages tightly around his chest was not&nbsp; a simple task but she was even happy she succeeded. <br><br>Rosalyn carefully continued her explorations, her ocean blue eyes scanning every inch of him and saw the odd angle of his arm. She carefully placed her hands on his bicep to ease the pain she was going in inflict to reset the bone. Without a warning, she snapped the bone back into place and winced for him. She allowed him to rest as she bush a few of her auburn curls out pale, flawless face. She bit her ruby red&nbsp; bottom lip, trying to figure what she should do for him. Fetching some warm water, she sat on the edge of the bed and dipped a cloth to wipe his face clean from the mud and snow. Carefully adding furs to his bare body, she hummed a soft healing song to promote his health. <br><br>"Are you a warrior sent to kill me?" She whisper very gently as she sat beside him and brushed his hair out of his face. "Tis strange you are out in such a storm, were you attack and rid of your clothing and horse from vagabonds?" He was unconscious and oblivious to her questions, she thought he was at least. She continued to gently stroke his face to ease his pain. It would be several days, if not weeks before he was able to fully be healed. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>08-01-2012, 21:19:22</strong>
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				When he slowly came to a semi-conscious state, he was vaguely aware of intense pain in his arm and chest. His head felt like someone was pounding on it with a hammer. But the pain was dulled somewhat, and he made no effort to escape the semi-consciousness that protected him from the full measure of the pain.<br><br>He became aware that he was no longer on the cold ground. He was warm and laying on something soft. Somewhere nearby, a voice whispered too softly for his barely conscious mind to understand. Something soft stroked his face. The one scent he could easily make out was that of a woman. Someone had brought him into the cabin then. Someone who smelled like sweet fruit and warm honey.<br><br>His body reacted naturally, and his cock stiffened. He groaned softly as blood moved to his crotch. Someone should warn her, he thought, tell her that he was not to be trusted with her. But he only made an unintelligible murmur.<br><br>Thoughts of a soft woman lulled him back to unconsciousness. How nice it would be to once more feel a woman’s soft skin against his own. His cock remained stiff as she dreamed of a woman lovingly touching him. He dreamed of Lucienne and the hands that had once known every inch of him. But she was long gone, and in his dream she faded away. He moaned softly.<br><br>His body used more energy to try to heal his broken bones, but there was little fuel for making energy. His body and mind sank deeper into sleep to allow healing to proceed, and he gladly descended into oblivion, away from pain in flesh and mind.<br><br>When he began to wake again a short while later, the lack of food had become an undeniable need. His body would start consuming muscle if he did not eat. He felt ravenously hungry. The pain in his arm and chest had receded slightly, but the headache remained. So he grimaced as he woke up.<br><br>“Food,” he said faintly even before he had opened his eyes. “I need to eat.” His voice sounded like a whisper to his own ears. His body felt weak and limp. The feminine scent of sweet fruit and warm honey lingered and added to his hunger. He blinked as he opened his eyes. He tried to sit up, but between the renewal of pain in his chest and the exhaustion in his muscles, he had only barely lifted his head before it fell back to bed.
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				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>08-01-2012, 23:12:22</strong>
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				Rosalyn heard the moaning and immediately moved from the chair by the fire to see to his comfort. He must have been in pain and her heart melted for him. She sat beside him and embraced his good hand telling him the pain would pass in a few moments. Her voice was weary, but she asked him if he wished for water. With little reply, she moved from his side and propped him up against her chest and gave him small sips of water. Rose, her name that her father deemed a worthy shortening, settled him back into the bed and adjusted the furs over his body. <br><br>He woke and croaked his deep voice for food. Stirring again from her place beside the fire, she prepared a trencher of broth and bread and moved beside him once more. <br>"Be at ease. I have some broth for you to eat." She placed the trench and moved behind his to help his sit and manage the food. Her hair seemed to surround his body as she leaned over him to see if she brought the bowl to his lips. "Are you warm enough, tis a wicked night that you find yourself without clothing." She asked him gently as she careful removed the broth and broke off a piece of bread for him to try. "Chew slowly, it will be hard for you to swallow." Her soft skin brushed against cheek as a soothing moment. "You are very safe here, do not worry over protection." <br><br>Rosalyn tried to ease his hunger with her meager stew she had prepared. She never ate much on her own but her stores were full enough for it. She refilled his trencher and placed it to his lips once more. Her eyes were tired, bagging with exertion, her hair was loosened from her pins and her poor gown had wrinkles in it. "Do you have need of anything?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>09-01-2012, 02:45:53</strong>
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				The werewolf in man form heard someone in the room move. Then the scent of the woman came close and he manged to turn his head to look at her. She was a woman of natural comeliness, with eyes the color of deep blue water and hair like long shavings of red earth. He looked away from her face, slightly embarrassed by his silly poetic thoughts about her features.<br><br>As she propped him up against her torso, he felt her soft features and smelled her flesh. The sensation stirred a primal ache within him. He grunted softly as he forced himself to ignore the ache. Her hair brushing against his skin make that difficult, but he shut out the sensations of her softness and focused on his pain and the need for sustenance. He sipped at the broth she provided. It was plain but welcome, and he gladly consumed it. <br><br>The manner of her speech confirmed what her clothing and her posture implied. She was from polished society. Why she seemed to be in this secluded cabin alone, he could not discern. There was something different in her scent, something unusual, but nothing that would explain her being alone. Perhaps her husband or lover or companion was simply away for&nbsp; short time.<br><br>“Yes, I am warm enough,” he said softly, in reply to her question. “Thank you for your aid. I am sorry to have intruded on you.” He took the small piece of bread she offered and ate it eagerly. She was correct, of course. The morsel of bread hurt as he swallowed, but he did not mind. It was one more sensation to distract him from the touch of her flesh against his cheek.<br><br>He was almost glad for the pain he was feeling. He was so tired that his normal defences seemed insufficient. He needed the pain to not think about touching her. His more feral impulses seemed too close to the surface. He needed to maintain control. Even as she told him he was safe, he wondered if he was. Not just from outside threats, but from the flood of enticing sensations she provided. He wondered if she had any notion of her effect on him.<br><br>He knew if she bothered to look under the furs she had placed over him, she would have no doubt of her effect on him. His cock was stiff and only the weight of the furs prevented that fact from being obvious.<br><br>She left to get more broth, and he was able to notice she seemed tired. Of course she would be. She was up late dealing with a stranger who had intruded on her solitude. He was being selfish.<br><br>“No,” he said to her question, his voice still little more than a loud whisper. “I am imposing, and for that I apologize.” Weakly he attempted to sit up and turn himself to leave what must have been her bed. But as soon as he had raised his torso and head from the bed, he felt lightheaded. “I should leave before your mate returns.” He knew it was a mistake to use the word ‘mate’, but it was out of his mouth before he realized he had said it. His head felt as if were filling with helium and about to float away.<br><br>“I would go,” he said, “but I’m going to pass out now.” Or rather, he attempted to say that. What he managed to mumble was something closer to “I would go, buh ’mm guh’nna passss uhn...” His eyes closed as he collapsed.<br><br>When he woke once more some minutes later, he attempted once more to right himself and stand. “I should not have come,” he said softly. Internally, he cursed himself for being so weak. He felt wholly exhausted. There was no use in trying to stand. His body simply would not comply. It had not the strength.
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				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>09-01-2012, 03:37:06</strong>
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				Rose watched him for a moment before she heard him spoke. His voice was deep and rich, like the smooth brandy her father favored in his study. "Tis no intrusuion, I would not have visitors until the spring. I&nbsp; welcome you gladly into my home. I would not be a good woman if I allowed you freeze upon my doorstep." A small smiled curled about those red lips of her and she tucked a few curls out of her face. Never hhad she had a visitor as broad and as unclothed as he was. Her father had left a few pieces of clothing that would, perhaps a bit snug, would accomodate his frame. <br><br>She feared he would catch his death if he attempted to leave in the storm. She went to straighten up the dishes and she nibbled on a few peieces of bread and allowed her guest to settle his food before she approached the subject of clothing. He spoke of leaving and her eyes widened as he hoisted himself up to get out of bed, losing his battle to weakness. She dropped her piece of bread and immediately went to his aid. The furs had slid off of&nbsp; his body and she noticed his present state of arousal. The blush that crept upon her cheeks, a vicious red that revealed her naive innocence in matters of men and relations. She helped him back into the bed, averting her eyes from his swollen apendage, covering him quickly with the furs. <br><br>"Calm, yourself Rose. Tis just a man." She chided herself as she prepared a brew to help aid in lessening his pain and rest peacefully. He mentioned the would mate and frowned. Such an odd way to inquiring her personal relations with the more masculine sex. He seem to wake a few moments later and the filled a goblet and went back to prop him up once more. He began to wake once more, seening to be embarassed by his lack of strength.<br><br>"Shh, I will not hear such nonsense. You had need of aid and I openly sought to assist you. You are not intruding upon my cottage. You have my word. Drink this, it is awful tasting but will help in healings of your body and allow have you rest more peaceful." She placed the goblet to his lips for him to drink. "You asked about my lover? Warrior, you shall have no fears, I have no lover to call my own, you will not be accosted by a male here. Sadly I am still a maiden and forever shall be one." She removed the cup from his lips, however, she made no effort to move. She took a cloth and slowly wiped the sweat from his brow with cool water. <br><br>"Close your eyes and allow your body to heal. It will not do you no good if you injure yourself or catch an ailment." She began to sing a soft, sweet song. Her voice was soft, meant to help lull him to sleep as she finished wiping his brow and stroking his cheek softly and smiling sweetly to him. She looked like an angel sent to nurse him to help. <br><br>Ever gently, she removed herself once he was resting and curled back by the fire. She was tempted to sleep but she decided to grab a book and pull the chair beside the bed he was resting in, in case he needed aid. Her eyes were closing after the sun rose the next day and her hands felt the book slipping from her hands. She was struggling to remain awake, needing to care for her new guest. She rose and stoked the fire, feeling tired and swaying slightly on her feet. She poured some water into her basin and freshed her and neck up. She quickly changed her dress and brushed her hair, humming to stay awake. Tying her curls out of her face, she poured more water into a cup and returned to the beside. <br><br>"Let us get you some water." She got behind him once more and placed the cup to his lips to appease his dehydration. She left him again to fix some eggs and warmed bread. He would more than likely be fanished, he wishing to eat once more. Plating the food, she took her postion behind him and gently woke him up.&nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>09-01-2012, 08:27:26</strong>
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				As she spoke to him and held the medicine scented drink to his face, she said he had asked about her lover. Had he? He could not remember clearly. Then she called him a warrior. Where had she gotten that idea? What had he been saying to her? He tried to remember as he imbibed the almost nauseating medicine. As she sat at his back, wiping his forehead, he realized whatever else had been in the drink, there must also have been a sedative.<br><br>The woman mentioned closing his eyes, and he suddenly it was difficult not to close his eyes. Yet he wanted to watch her as she sang. She had a gentle voice, and something in the way her face took on such a peaceful expression as she sang seemed altogether lovely. But soon his eyes did close and moments later, he had fallen into a deep sleep.<br><br>Once more his consciousness rose to a state of near wakefulness, and he realized the woman was behind him again and getting him to drink water. As she laid him down once more, he drifted back to a light sleep.<br><br>He was wakened again, this time to the scent of warm food. He felt a bit stronger, and the pain in his arm and chest had lessened. They were healing faster than an ordinary human’s injuries might, but still slowly for him. He still needed food and rest. The presence of the eggs and bread nearly had him drooling. His stomach seemed to feel cavernously empty. He lifted his hands and scooped eggs onto the bread and ate slowly but eagerly.<br><br>“Mmm.” As an ill person getting well might find a meal of broth and crackers delicious, this meal of eggs and bread seemed incredibly good to the lycanthrope in man form. Despite his attempt to eat slowly, the food was consumed too soon. He wanted more, but he knew he had to be careful or he could make himself ill. He put the plate aside deliberately.<br><br>“Thank you,” he said, as he turned to look into her blue eyes. “You have been more than kind.” And more than a little arousing, he thought but did not say. “But I think I must apologize. I recall, vaguely, that you mentioned I had asked after your lover. If I did, I should not have. Also, if I gave you an impression that I am a warrior by anything I have said, then I have misled you. I am just a man who gets by on luck and more luck. And today, on the kindness of a lady. For which I am grateful.<br><br>“And now I think I have taken up your bed for too long. No, do not object,” he said as he lifted a hand up to stop any protest she might make. “I’m not leaving. I’m still too weak to get far. But I can tell by your sc... by your appearance that you are very tired.” She actually did not look tired. Somehow she had manged to look fresh and rested, even though his nose told him she was sleep deprived and weary. He managed to climb out of the bed and to stand naked as he weakly gestured to the bed, upon which he longed to remain. He realized his cock was stiff, and quickly pulled one of the furs to cover his waist and crotch. “No arguments. Get yourself into bed. I’ll be fine. Chances are very good I’ll still be here when you wake. I’ll even turn and look the other way. I promise to not peek, or at least,” he said with a friendly smile, “to not peek too much.<br><br>“Go on now. I’ll, erm, stand over by the fireplace.” And he walked slowly over to where the warm embers of the fire still glowed. He forced himself to pay attention to rousing the fire and not to the woman behind him. “You’re a fool,” he whispered to himself. The blood in his penis also seemed to mock him. He could feel the pulse of blood in his erection. He wanted to fuck her. He wanted to ask her questions. He wanted to run his hands through her marvelous hair. How could a woman like that be alone? And what was that strangeness to her scent? He shook his head.<br><br>You’re a fool, he thought silently. A fool for ever letting himself get into this situation in the first place. A fool for trying to be good when all of his instincts insisted he should be else. But there was no other solution. He remembered the purges. He knew what would happen if she knew what he was. He just needed to keep himself calm and distracted from her physical charms. He could keep his inner beast controlled. He had for a long time now. Of course, he had not been spending time with such tempting reasons to lose control as this woman was. Even so, he would be strong and he would behave himself.<br><br>Why was trying not to listen to her move so goddamned difficult?
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				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>09-01-2012, 09:16:23</strong>
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				He was awake and her mind seemed to snap&nbsp; out from her wandering daydreams. He devoured the food quickly she had presented to him and she felt guilty for not providing more to fill his hunger. Never had she seen a man eat as much as him&nbsp; after sustaining an injury. She rose and carried the plate to the small kitchen table that was still strewn with her herbs and her pestle and mortar. "There is no need to the apologies. I believe you worded it about having a 'mate.' My mind seemed to complace it with lover. I did not mean to misunderstand if that was not your intention but I wanted to make certain that no male would come in and throw you out." <br><br>She brushed a few curls out of her hair as she cleaned the dishes with the water that she had filled the sink with earlier before he spoke again. Not a warrior, just a passerby that had no clothing and no horse to speak of. "I am deeply embarrassed. I assumed you were a warrior due to your build and your few scars I saw upon your skin. I apologize sincerely and hope you do not think ill of a naive assumption I made. I have had very little interaction with many males." He thanked her for her hospitality and she feared her would leave, he quickly rectified that fear with stating he had no intentions of departing given his current state. <br><br>"Tis none of my business, but perchance may you offer why you were out on such an eve without a stitch of clothing upon you? There are wolves and bears that hunt in this part of the woods. Were you wishing for a pelt to aid in your warmth?" Her questions were truly to make conversation but her simple words held a innocence in her that should not be corrupted. "How foolish am I? My name is Rosalyn, you may call me Rose if you wish it. May I inquire your name?"<br><br>He spoke of taking over her bed and she shook her head, but he held up his hand to stop any protested. He rose from the bed and took a few steps to aid him but his nudity stopped her. She bit her bottom lip and turned her face away, flushing foolishly at his awakened body. Her eyes noticed he covered himself and she faced him once more. He was demanding in his request for her to rest and even teased her in promising no peeking. Shaking her head, she wanted to tell him no but she truly was exhausted. Rubbing her eyes, the stinging had been bothering her for the little part of the last hour. <br><br>Believing he would not look upon her changing, she allowed him the liberty of walkabout with prejudice. "I will be fine, please just rest in the-" She stopped when he moved by the fireplace. He seemed able to stand and it shocked a little. Her healing abilities have never been that potent before to heal a man. "Very well, no looking then."<br><br>Slipping out of her simple, but soft, green gown, she hung it over the dressing shield and slipped off her slippers. Her hair was next, unlacing the ribbons she used to bind it and shaking it free. The bed was still warm from his body, Rosalyn felt her head rest heavily against the pillow. Her eyes were growing heavy as she slipped on the furs that remained as she battled with sleep. <br><br>"I have laid out some clothing on the chair. My father is nearly your size and left some garments here from his last visit. If you get hungry, help yourself to anything in my stores, they are well stocked. If you have a need of anything, I wish to for you wake me, your injuries were severe when you arrived and I will not have you in pain.&nbsp; If you need to lay down come and wake me as well. I will not visitors expected, again until spring, so you are safe here." A gentle yawn escaped her mouth and she closed her eyes. Sleep soon claimed her before she could pull the covers fully over her chemise covered body.<br><br>Her breathing was even and soft, her red lips parted slightly. They seemed to glisten in the fire and candlelight of the cottage. Her chemise had slid off her shoulder, revealing unmarred creamy skin, her form ample in womanly ways, she scarcely stirred but shivered but made no effort to reach for the furs to warm herself. Her auburn hair danced copper in the light and fell about her in a curtain of tumultuous waves of fire. Her face looked angelic, serene and at peace despite her temptress appearance. A gentle sigh escaped her lips as she slipped deeper into sleep.
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				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>09-01-2012, 21:27:49</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The question about what he had been doing out in the woods naked had thankfully been glossed over and forgotten. As had her request for his name. The less she knew the better. He did not quite believe her assurance that no one else would come here or that she had little interaction with men. She was clearly someone from high society. Probably with plenty of money. Even if she had no beau, she had to have known more than a few men. There was no way a woman like this would escape the attentions of men.<br><br>He managed not to peek at her until she spoke of clothes. She was in bed, though revealing more of herself than perhaps she might otherwise intend. The thin fabric that covered her chest made the roundness of her breasts all the more obvious. As he turned his head to look at her, she spoke of food, and he thought that eating might be a good way to not think about what his primal instincts were telling him to do to the woman.<br><br>She spoke of needing to lay down, and the image of his naked body entangled with her naked body came to his mind. He felt his cock ache.<br><br>She seemed to fall asleep finally, and he turned himself to look at her. He did not believe someone would leave her alone until spring. Nor that she was as innocent as she claimed. No woman who looked like that would be as she claimed to be. Yet why would she lie? If she had wanted to do him any harm, she could have done so to him already. What did she want?<br><br>He stepped close to the bed and stared at her for a few moments more. To touch her, to take her, it could be so easy. He took a deep breath. No, he was going to be good. Staying out of this kind of trouble was the way to survive. Someone would come soon. He hoped to be away from the cabin and the woman and her disturbing body before that occurred. With some more food, he would heal quickly. When she woke, he would thank her and take his leave. And he would walk into the woods and end up dreaming of all the sensual things he never did with this woman.<br><br>He shook his head. He reached down to grasp the furs that covered her. He was careful not to touch her. He pulled the furs back a little, and for a moment he admired her body. But then he shook his head again and pulled the furs up to cover her up to her neck. He unwrapped the fur from about his waist and placed it on top of the rest. He reached out as if to touch her hair, but he stopped himself.<br><br>He walked to the door, carefully opened it, stepped outside and silently closed the door. He shivered in the cold, but there was something he needed to do. He grabbed his hard cock and stroked it. He thought about the woman inside. He remembered the touch of her skin against his cheek. He imagined being on top of her. He imagined what her sighs of pleasure might sound like. Would she groan? Would she whimper? Would she scream? He grunted as he came and left his semen on the cold ground. He sighed with some relief that his physical urge had, however unsatisfyingly or temporarily, been dealt with.<br><br>Silently he reentered the cabin, glad to be back inside. The air outside seemed colder than it had last night. But perhaps that was just due to his having been under warm furs and then next to a fire.<br><br>He stepped over to he clothes the woman had mentioned. He pulled on the trousers and the shirt. The clothes were a little snug, but otherwise comfortable. Certainly they seemed like expensive clothes. Why would a woman with a family worth so much be alone in a cabin secluded in the woods?<br><br>He turned his attention to a search for food. As quietly as he was able, he walked across the cabin to find the store of food she claimed to have. The first room he came to, however, did not seem to be full of food. There were jars and bottles of liquids and dried plants. Did the woman have a massive store of seasoning? He sniffed the air carefully. Magic. He smelled magic. Then he realized what the faint hint of something different in the woman’s scent was. The woman was a witch.<br><br>Why would she help him? She must have a plan for capture. Yet, she could have bound him in his sleep. But why would she do anything to harm him. She had no idea what he truly was. Or she seemed to not. What was her plan? Was her being a witch why she was out here alone?<br><br>He shook his head. He was being paranoid. She might not be a witch at all. She might have an interest in medicine, and have no idea of the magical nature of her work. She may have no suspicious designs at all. She had been nothing but kind to him, and he would do her a disservice to suspect her of ill intent simply because of some herbs and potions. Even so, he needed to be cautious.<br><br>He would not tell her that he thought she was a witch. Just as she did not need to know what he was. He would find the food, and eat, and be on his way as soon as she woke. When she saw he was recovered, likely she would send him on his way. She would never know she had kept a werewolf in her cabin, and he would get away with no worry that anyone would follow him.<br><br>What he did not know, as he stood there among bottles and jars, was that a weather front was moving into the area. The outside temperature was starting to drop and soon the first flakes of snow would begin to fall.<br><br>He found the food pantry and shivered a little. It was colder than the other rooms. He found some dried meat, and immediately picked up a handful and began to eat it. He chewed slowly as he looked for some bread. Finding a heavy loaf, he made his way back to the fireplace. He poked the embers and added some kindling, making sure it caught fire before he added some thicker wood. He found the woman’s supply of warm water, tore off hunks of the thick bread, dipped it in the water, and ate it along with the dried meat. When the dried meat was consumed, he used the break to soak up some water and then squeezed the water into his mouth. He soon had finished off the loaf of bread.<br><br>The pain in his arm and chest were now a dull ache. But his body still needed to finish repairing the bones. As he sat and stared into the fire, he began to feel drowsy. He blinked as he watched the flames. The woman had said her name was Rosalyn. She had asked his name. He had not told her. Should he have told her? “Wulfric,” he whispered to the fire. The fire crackled in reply. Sticks fell as they burned. He put another piece of wood on the fire. The room seemed to be getting colder. He wished he had one of those furs, but he remained by the fire. His eyes blinked slowly. He scooted closer to the fire. Her hair, he thought, is very pretty. He wondered how it would feel to hold her hair in his hands. He closed his eyes. His head soon leaned forward. Sleep took him as his body focused on finishing his healing process.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>09-01-2012, 22:38:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rose was deep asleep, his movements about her home did not hinder her rest. He covered her form and she nestled deeper into furs, contentment again revealed with a sigh. She felt safe to have a man around, but was her one of the bandits that roamed the darkened woods? Never receiving answers to her question, she allowed her mind to ponder such things as she dreamt. <br><br>Would he burn her once he learned that she was not a simple woman in a cottage? Many had been quick to judge her because of her abilities, thinking that she would curse them for unheeded submission to her. Rose laughed and scoffed at such a notion and never extracting revenge from the people who forced her to be cast out of society. Her father, also a victim of societies' disgraces, happen to remain at his home due to his business endeavors. He was still popular in his ventures regardless of his daughter's odd gifts. <br><br>Sending her to that cottage was to protect her from the people who thought to harm her. She frowned in her sleep when she felt the cold chill of the day's air fill the room. She was half awake when she heard the door open once more and her visitor returning inside. No need to spring into action for protection, she closed her eyes and drifted back off. <br><br>Hours passed before she rose and stretched. She need only a couple of hours to recharge herself and out of fear her guest ailing, she slipped on her robe and went to seek him. He was sitting one of the chairs by the fire, the cold winds seeping through her shutters. She slipped in rags into the cracks to ward off the chill. She raised a hand to the fire, igniting it into a fierce blaze and whispered an incantation for it to burn forever bright. He seemed to begin driftong off. "I wish you would have awakened me, tis not good for yout injuries to be compressed in such a matter."<br><br>His place in the chair would not do well for his injuries but he had been able to dress himself in the clothing she had provided him. "Sitting so awkwardly will not help with your injuries," She kneeled in front of him and placed a hand on his cheek gently. "Come return to the bed, you are chilled from sitting without the furs on you. I will not have you caught a fever." She spoke gently as she moved from him. <br><br>Making sure her robe wa securely fastened, she moved to her pantry and pulled out some tea leaves to aide in her wakefulness. She placed the water on a kettle over the fire and settled beside it on a cushion as she awaited for the water to ready. <br><br>"Would you like to bath? I can fill the tub for you to help soothe that aches you might have. You may use my dressing screen for privacy. I have a special blend of herbs to help aid in healing."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>10-01-2012, 08:23:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He dreamed that the fire suddenly rose up, providing more heat to the room. Then the dream seemed to change. A beautiful woman knelt by him and placed a hand on his cheek. “Come return to the bed,” she said in a soft voice, “you are chilled from sitting without the furs on you. I will not have you catching a fever.” Return to bed with this woman? Of course he wanted to do that. But then, because it was only a dream, she vanished like a ghost.<br><br>He blinked his eyes and realized he had been asleep. The woman was up though. He heard her before he saw her. She walked into his field of vision, and he blinked again. She was wearing little more than a robe as she carried a kettle of water to the fire. Either she was as innocent as she claimed or she was a woman playing an act to tempt him. Either way, there was now a long bulge in the crotch of the pants he wore.<br><br>Could she be some sort of temptress? Was this all some plan to get him to do something to her and then have some man walk in to capture or kill him? But to what purpose? If this was part of some plan, he should leave soon. If it was not, he should still leave soon or he would end up doing something he had no right to do.<br><br>She asked him if he would like a bath. He very nearly said yes. But instead he shook his head.<br><br>“No. I thank you for the kindness, but I really should be going. I have intruded on your hospitality long enough.” He stepped to the door of the cabin. “I will return the clothes as soon as I am able.” He opened the door, only to see his way blocked by a wall of snow. “Oh fuck.” He closed the door quickly before the snow fell into the room.<br><br>He could probably leave and transform some distance away, but then what? In the snow, in unfamiliar territory, where would he go? He had no pack, no shelter. If the weather got much colder, he could end up freezing to death in the snow.<br><br>An unwelcome thought came to him. Who would notice that he had gone?<br><br>Here was shelter. Here was food. But the cost. To be here with the woman, Rosalyn. The temptation of her to his feral impulses would be intense and constant. It would try his self-control, certainly. The courageous thing to do, he was certain, was to leave. That would be the selfless act.<br><br>He sighed. He would stay. Perhaps the weather would change soon. He was either a fool for staying or for wanting to leave. Either way, he was a fool.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>10-01-2012, 17:38:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Having the water in the fire,&nbsp; Rose settled a couple of cups with tea leaves as her guests began to wake. He was up and about within one day? How could that be possible? No one, including herself,&nbsp; could heal as quickly as he did. Her eyes were wide but she did not question his humanity at that time. "Tis a good suggestion still to bathe. It will help rid the chill in your bones and soothe any remaining aches you have." The offer was innocent as she mentioned the bath. <br><br>"I understand we have just met, but mayhap, you can trust me with your care. The winter proves to be vicious here and walking into the cold day will do little for your healing body." She pour the steaming water into the two cups. Her face saddened when he moved to the door and opened it to leave. Was she so desperate for company that she would beg him to stay? <br><br>His coarse language brought a blush to her face as she tightened her robe over her thin chemise. Her hair seemed to tumble over her shoulders and down her back once she wrapped her arms about her wiast.<br><br>She missed having someone to talk to in her solitude, he would leave like the others had. The wall of snow was high and he quickly shut the door to prevent any falling in. "I did not wager the storm was so harsh." She spoke gently as she bit her lip nervously. Rose pondered what to say next, "You are more than welcome to stay the winter. It will be safer for you if you did and it allows me the company I would been deprived."<br><br>She would have to be cautious of using her magics around him. She had never had a need to hide it since moving to her cottage but he woud deem her evil and perhaps lead a mob to murder her. Rose always feared such a conclusion to her life, being burned by the fire she wielded. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>10-01-2012, 21:26:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He turned to look at her. If was going to remain, she had to know. That was the only way to be fair to her. She was by the fire, and he was by the door, but even so, he took a couple of steps back from her. This situation seemed too intimate for him to be broaching the subjects he was about to mention.<br><br>“It might be safer for me... Rosalyn. But not for you.” He looked her hair to keep from looking at her eyes or the way her robe covered her chest. “There are two things I need to explain. First is that I am... That is, I know that you deal in magic. Though I confess I have never encountered a witch with your kindness. How you have managed to remain so with the power you no doubt have, I do not know or understand.”<br><br>He put his hand up. “Hush! I am not done.” He needed to say it all together, now, while he still held the courage. But he turned himself and stared into a another part of the room. He did not want to see her reaction to his revelation.<br><br>“The second thing you need to know is... I... I am a lycanthrope. I can change into a wolfen form. But even in this man form, my feral desires are strong. For me to remain with you... is a danger to you. I am sure you could call forth fire or turn me into a fish or curse me with paralysis or any number of other things to protect yourself. And maybe you should. I have striven for many years now to control myself, but you make that more difficult. You...” He turned to look at her again. “You are a beautiful woman. Perhaps moreso than you know. As I think they say in your culture, my intentions toward you are not honorable. My desire is to do things to you that probably you would consider inappropriate between any but a man and a wife. And some of what I desire to do, you would probably consider not appropriate even in marriage.<br><br>“I can tell you are polished by society. I am not. I am coarse. I am base. And you need to be aware of that before you ask me to remain. I can control my transformations, so you would not have worry about the wolf, but you would have to constantly worry about the man.” She had to know the full truth of it. “Even now, I think pinning you to the floor, ripping your clothes from you and fu... and having carnal knowledge of... of your body... even now, Rosalyn, I think that would be lovely and fun.” He gritted his teeth. His cock strained against the fabric of the trousers. “And attempting to not do so is taking considerable restraint. Restraint I am not sure I can maintain with you day in and day out.<br><br>“So now you know the truth. And knowing now that I am a werewolf, that I deceived you from the start, that I am at heart a savage beast, and a danger to your maidenhood and probably to your life, think again. Think carefully before you invite me to remain. I am...” He grunted. “No! Before I might try to sway you with other words to let me stay, decide now! Are you willing to allow me to remain? I tell you, you would be safer by far if you did not.”<br><br>He realized that at some point while he was talking he had clenched his hands into fists. He put fists behind his back. His hands seemed to itch to touch her body. His cock was starting to ache inside the trousers he wore. The fabric covering his crotch seemed uncomfortably tight. He forced himself to breathe slowly and deeply. Which did not make his desire diminish, but it did allow him to keep himself still.<br><br>She would probably tell him to leave. How could she not? Even if she was a witch, she would have to be constantly vigilant and ready to defend herself from him. She would end up in fear that he might attack at any time. She would not want that. No one would. As soon as she told him to leave, he would remove his clothes and walk out into the snow. He was not sure he would transform later. Maybe he would be better frozen to death. At least then, he would do some good by providing animals with food that would help them surivive the winter. Any good in the world there might be to living as a werewolf seemed to have vanished. This woman made that clear to him as nothing else had.<br><br>He did not look at her as he waited for her reply. He found himself staring at his bare feet. He suddenly wanted to be a wolf and to run. Maybe if he ran hard enough and far enough, he could simply forget this place and this woman. Maybe he could forget he had met such kindness and beauty. Maybe if he simply spent the rest of his life running hard and fast, he could forget his vileness. Maybe he could forget the chants of “Kill the monster! Kill the beast!” that still sometimes haunted his dreams. Maybe. But he doubted it.<br><br>Only the briefest moment had passed since he had stopped talking, but he felt as though he were waiting for hours for her reply. The sooner the woman told him to leave, the sooner he would leave. The only reason he waited was because a part of him hoped she might let him remain. Besides which, if he let her decide, then whenever she would look back the moment in her memory, then she could believe she had overcome a dangerous moment and survived. It would be a small good he could do for her, worthless in the large scheme of life, but even a small good was better than none at all. He owed her at least that much.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>10-01-2012, 23:12:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He began to speak and she was going to intervene but he held his hand up to finish his words. He was not human, she knew she was not losing her mind. He was a shifter of the wolf. Never did she think she would meet one nor one would fall ill on her doorstep. She carefully, and gracefully moved to sit by the fire as he continued his expressions upon his staying. It was a good amount to take in. "Truly you can take form of a wolf?"<br><br>He knew of her abilities, she felt a shiver of fear run down her spine. Would he bring a riotous horde of self-righteous do-gooders to burn her home. He then spoke of the animalistic urges he felt towards her. He would say whatever he could in his power to bed her and she shivered again. Being alone for two years, she may welcome it. <br><br>"Mayhap, tis my turn to talk. I have never had anyone outside of families' home know of my abilities. I am a witch but my father raised me as his sons. I never heard of not being caring for one to be a sign of witchery. I treat everyone equally and as rightly as I would wish for me to be treated thus." She watched him carefully. <br><br>"I remain out here to not bring shame to my father's name. He would rather have shame rather than leave me to solitude but it was my wish." She spoke softly as she averted her gaze to the fire and watched the flames, mesmerized. Her mind needed to find a solution to solve their situation. A small thought popped in her mind. <br><br>"My father has wished for me to return to his estate. I can dig through the snow with my fire and make the trek to his home. You are more than welcome to stay in my absence to assure my home still stands. I have plenty of food and wood chopped." She nodded her hair as if ensuring herself it would work and she would make the journey. <br><br>"You should not be allowed to face the winter alone in the snow. My journey has been made several times so I have faith I will be able to make it. If you would turn your back, I can get dressed and ready for my journey." She stated rising from her chair and she began to nervously play with a few of her curls. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>11-01-2012, 00:55:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He did not understand her reply. He blinked as he stood there trying to comprehend what she had said. Shame to her family. She would leave him in the cabin alone. No reaction to his revealing his nature other than to ask a question in curiosity. She had not even asked how he had discovered her magic. What sort of woman was this?<br><br>Left alone, in a cabin that smelled of her, was hers, would remind him of her, would taunt him with the knowledge that she was out somewhere. He was not sure that would be better than her remaining with him.<br><br>She seemed to show no fear of him. She did not seem to care that he desired to ravish her. She was extraordinary.<br><br>“No,” he said softly. “To disrupt your family, to cause shame, that would only add to my sins.” His hands remove the shirt from his torso. “You have been nothing but kind to me. And even now, you are trying to be kinder still. To be a cause of harm for you or your family, who must themselves be excellent people to have produced one such as you, would be ungrateful and selfish on my part.” He unfastned the trousers. “I will not do that to you. I... I will go. Know I am grateful for your kindness.”<br><br>He pulled the pants off even as he began to transform. Fur began to grow on his skin. By the time the pants were off, his limbs and torso were changing shape. The clothes were in a pile on the floor, and next to the pile, he went down to his hands and knees. His face grew a snout and his hair turned into a wolfish mane of fur. He was soon completely blanketed in black and dark grey fur. He became a large wolf, almost the size of a bear.<br><br>Ordinarily, he would not have willingly transformed in front of anyone. But she had shown no fear of his being a werewolf. So he had honored her the only way he knew how, to let her see the transformation.<br><br>He made no sound as he padded towards the door. He stopped to look at her. Her curled hair. Her red lips. Her blue eyes. Her womanly body. How he longed for her, even in his wolf form. It would be so easy to leap at her and take her to the floor. He wondered what the skin of a woman who smelled of sweet fruit and warm honey would taste like. He took a step toward her. The scent of her body was intoxicating. His thoughts seemed to swim in her scent. He took another step toward her. <br><br>She was a witch. Remember, he told himself, she has magic. She could no doubt defend herself. It would be foolish to attack her. He huffed in frustration. To be so close to such a woman and not be able to touch her, it was almost maddening. Very slowly, he forced himself to turn toward the door.<br><br>He found himself wishing she would try to stop him. But he had no place here. Still, rather than use his jaws to turn the door latch, he stared at the door. He did not move. He did not want to leave. His lusted for her. He wanted to know again the sensation of his back leaned up against her chest. He had thought being in wolf form might make leaving easier. It had instead made leaving more difficult. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>11-01-2012, 04:00:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"There is no need for you to leave. I chose to come to this cottage, my father has been cursing all with their treatment of me. You would not bring shame upon my leaving this place. You misunderstood me, I-" She stopped when he stripped his shirt off. He was going to leave regasrdless of what she said. A lump began to form in her throat, another person to leave her to her solitude. She stifled her tears back as his trousers were stripped. Averting her gaze, she tried to not stare at his hardened physique and obvious arousal. But something called her to look upon him.<br><br>Her truly was a wolf.<br><br>He was nearly half her height on all fours, his fur looking soft and thick. He was menacing and beautiful all the same and could not stop staring at him. It was thing to behold, to see a handsome man turn into a fiersome beast. He did not snarl or snap at her but only stared. Tortured and loneliness mirrored in his wolfish eyes and felt the sympathy. He was truly an animal in his desires but he was also brutally honest. He could have lied to her and seduced her into her own bed but he refrained from hiding the truth. <br><br>He stared at the door with his contemplated massive teeth and mouth. "I do not think you need to leave. I implore you to reconsider this. It is not fair that I have another place to go and you will have to suffer. No person, human or not, should risk their lives when another option is present. I beg you, stay where it is warm and safe. No one will bother you here, I can give you my vow upon anything you hold sacred!" Rosalyn raised her voice slightly and made a move to block the closed door. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>11-01-2012, 06:42:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The woman could show pride.&nbsp; And it, like seemingly everything else, looked good on her. But she had stepped to the door. Which meant she was now inches away from him. Which meant her seductive scent was strong, almost overwhelming to his sense of smell. He forced himself to back up. He stared at her through wolf eyes.<br><br>He could say nothing to her. He stared silently at her. She was a rare woman. If the bear was still out there with her cubs, the woman might find herself at a disadvantage in trying to deal with the snow and the bear. He could not tell her that he planned to go with her. But he nodded to her, as if assenting to her plan. When she left, he would simply go with her. He doubted she would try to stop him.<br><br>He stepped back further and turned to sit on the floor by the fireplace. He stared into the harsh flames and waited for her to make herself ready for travel.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>11-01-2012, 07:33:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He noticed how determined she had set herself to be and she was pleased that he decided to stay. She left him by the fire and she quickly dressed in her gown from the previous day and her cloak. It was not the warmest of her cloaks but she knew there would be clothing at her father's estate. Braiding her long hair quickly, tying the ends with ribbons and slipping in pins that were needed. Her hands would remain gloveless, she did not have a need of them if she needed to make camp for the evening. She would use her hands in aid of protection and survival. <br><br>"I think this is a good arrangement. There is plenty of food in the stores and chopped wood off the back door," she opened the door and melted the snow with her hands to create a path. The winds howled and whipped at her dress and gown as soon as she stepped outside. Slipping on her hood, she looked a child wandering out into the wilderness. In some ways she was a child adventuring on her own. She did not turn to see if he closed the door or decided to follow her. She rather he have safe winter and she to have an awkward one. Her hands felt like ice within the first few moments, her face was frozen in minutes. She still continued on. <br><br>The storm raged on and she noticed she had a companion, the wolf. He did not need to accompany her but the gesture was kind and she allowed him to follow her deep into the snowy abyss. She was turned around after sometime, the winds whipping the flurries about her skirts and ripping her hood off. She was stumbled over and over, her skin becoming more chilled. The last time she fell, she sat in the snow, completely numb and exhausted. Rose could move no more. The weather had defeated her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>11-01-2012, 20:38:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He watched as she somehow managed to produce firey heat with her hands and melt away the snow. Some of the melted snow ended up on the floor as water, but it did not matter too much. He was going to follow her out of the cabin. He pulled the door closed behind them, using his teeth on the door latch.<br><br>The snowstorm had begun to pick up once more. At first he followed a little bit behind her. He watched as the heat she created was not enough to push away the cold. He thought that might actually be good for them. If the made too much heat, the snow would end up as a freezing rain, and that would have made matters worse for both of them. But he began to see that she was too cold and the storm was becoming more fierce. The winds were strong and getting stronger. The snow no longer fell to the ground. The snow swirled horizontally. The woman’s dress and cloak were catching the wind and dragging her down. Seeing more than a few inches ahead became impossible. Everything was a fury of white ice that would cause both of them damage if they did not arrive at a shelter soon. <br><br>The wolf had trusted the woman to know where she was going. But in the storm, she seemed to have lost her way. And she was starting to stumble in the snow. Her gown and her cloak became soaked with with snow that melted by her body heat at first but soon began to turn to ice again. He barked to urge her to turn back, but the sound was lost in the wind.<br><br>Eventually she fell and did not get up. Immediately he stepped forward to help her. That she had reached the end of her strength was obvious. He pushed her to the the snow first, laying her against the bank of snow. He then straddled her, and used his body’s warmth to warm her for a few moments while he figured out what to do.<br><br>They were on an incline. What might have otherwise been a wall of snow had become more of a steep hill in the wind. The wolf turned himself to lay with his back to the woman. He grabbed the edge of the hood of her cloak with his teeth and carefully rolled himself and the woman over so that she lay on his back. Her cloak now covered both of them, and his body heat would help keep her warm. Carefully, he turned back toward where he thought the cabin was. There were no tracks to follow. Every footprint in the snow had filled up. Not that following footprints would have been possible. Seeing anything more than a wall of white past the snowflakes that swirled directly before his eyes was impossible. And the wind had swept away any scents he could use. So he began to slowly walk forward, careful not to disturb the precious passenger on his back.<br><br>Eventually the wolf came to a wall of snow. He dug through it slowly, and found dirt. The wall of snow was up against a wall of earth. He had walked to the place where he had fallen a day before and been injured. Which meant he had not traveled in the correct direction, but it also meant he was not that far from the cabin. He turned and tried to remember the direction he had used before when he had first found the cabin. With no visual or scent clues to help him, he began to trudge through the snow. <br><br>Walking was becoming difficult. His large paws kept him from sinking too far into the snow, but they were getting numb. His nose felt as though it was made of ice. He needed to find the cabin soon, or he and his passenger would end up freezing to death in the snow. And although he had previously contemplated letting that happen to himself, he was determined to keep that from happening to the woman. She should live.<br><br>He came to another wall of snow. He used his paw to dig through the snow. At first it seemed there was nothing but snow. But at the furthest reach of his leg, he felt something hard. If this was not the cabin, they would both soon die. So he took a risk and let the woman slide from his back. He then turned to digging as furiously as his cold limbs could manage. He had found the edge of the door to the cabin. He dug away more snow. He was warming up and the adrenaline was flowing in his veins. He dug the snow away from the door as fast as he could and then pushed it open. Snow swirled into the cabin as the wolf grabbed collar of the woman’s gown in his teeth and pulled Rosalyn into the cabin.<br><br>He slammed the door shut, and pulled the woman over to the fire which was, remarkably, still going. She must have magically enhanced it somehow before they had left, he concluded. She was unconscious. She probably had been since he had first pulled her onto his back. He pulled her body as close as was safe to the fire. He stepped back from her and concentrated on transforming to his human shape. The process warmed him slightly, and he felt keenly the melted snow beneath his feet. In the shape of a man, he pulled her cloak from her and then her footwear. He examined her toes and then her fingers and her face. There was no frostbite that he could see, though surely she had not been far from it when they were outside. Perhaps her magic had protected her. He pulled off her gown, because it was still wet.<br><br>She was a beautiful woman. And as the need for survival waned, he was reminded of his lustful desire for her. He shrugged that off as best he could, and went to grab the furs from her bed. He covered her with the furs, careful not the get them too close to the fire. He stared down at her. Her body was naked under the furs. To slip under the furs and curl up with her naked body next to his would be so easy. To slip under the furs and explore her body with his hands was a strong temptation. He squatted down beside her and looked at her innocent face. He shivered. He wanted to get under the furs with her.<br><br><em>She is naked and exhausted and defenseless,</em> he thought. <em>Now is the time. I did just save her from the cold. She owes me. I am a werewolf. I take what I want. And I want her. No! Stop. To repay her kindness with that would be to surrender to all the things I am trying to resist. But that is to deny who and what I am. I know that. But I have no choice. If I am to survive, I must deny myself. Even this woman could not accept me as I am. I must deny my nature, and if I cannot now, I will never be strong enough.</em><br><br>He reached out and combed fingers through her hair. His finger traced the shape of her lips. He leaned down to her face, but he pulled back suddenly. He stood up and forced himself to breathe slowly.<br><br><em>I am strong enough for now,</em> he thought, <em>but how much longer will that last?</em><br><br>All the furs covering her body left him with nothing to keep him warm. It was difficult, but he managed one more transformation. The energy need of the transformation drained a lot of the strength he had left. Indeed, now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he began to feel exhausted. In his wolf form he lay down between Rosalyn and the fire. He pushed his back to the furs that covered her. He could hear her breathing slowly and regularly. The crackling of the fire and the regular rhythm of her breathing lulled him toward sleep.<br><br>His last thought before he finally lost consciousness was to wonder what she would think about finding herself naked under the furs.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>11-01-2012, 21:46:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her eyes had grown heavy, the snow had defeated her and she was helpless to it. The winds and snow stung her eyes, causing them to close. Her consciousness was slipping from reality and her frozen form laid still on the blanketed earth. She feared for her own life and the life of her wolfish companion. He would perish in the snow because he wished to escort her. Too numb to summon her fire to save their lives, even if&nbsp; it was only brief for moment. She was limp again and growing increasingly colder be each short moment. <br><br>Though she felt numb, something nagged at her not to give up. She wished to see her family once more, to fight for her young life. A cold nose and paws moved her, was it her wolf protector? Something warm penetrated her cold, wet clothing, causing her to slowly try and wake. She felt fur brush against her cheek as she was rolled onto something, a tremor escaped her form. <br><br>Movement was the next sensation she felt when to struggled to wake once more. He was carrying her, repaying the kindness she had bestowed upon him. She wanted to weep for his efforts but the storm still swirled around them. She could not direct him to where to go, which direction. She opened her mouth several times but no sound escaped her soft lips. They moved within the storm, his next step seeming harder than the previous one. <br><br>The cold had returned and the feeling of of fur was robbed from her. She shivered, trembling in the snow until she was dragged into the warmth. The scents of wood and tea assaulted her senses. He had taken her home to her cabin and she wanted to sigh of relief, but she was just so cold. Fire soon was warming her skin but she shook uncontrollably. Fingers delved into her cloak and gown. She wished to protest the attentions but her body could not move to swat the hands away. Had he transformed himself back to his human form?<br><br>Furs were placed over her naked skin and she finally felt some sensation return to her body. A body was pressed to her, she could scarcely feel it. Feeling the need to offer aid, she slowly and carefully, covered the body beside her. Rosalyn went limp again. <br><br>Several hours had passed since their return to her cabin and she still laid deathly still in&nbsp; front of the fire. The warmth of the flames had warded off her initial shock to her system. Slowly, her mind began to wake, her eyes still heavy but she fought to open them. Blushing over her nudity, the rush of blood seemed to take some of her strength. <br><br>"You saved my life..." She whispered, her voice breathy as she again battled her will to remain conscious. She shivered over the memory of the snow caking onto her skin. She was so close to death out in that storm she silently cursed herself for being so foolish to brave such elements. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>11-01-2012, 22:54:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He woke slowly, still feeling tired from his exertions. The body of the woman behind him was gently stirring. She must have also been waking up. He heard her whisper that he had saved her life. He had only repaid a kindness, nothing more.<br><br>The realization that she had pulled a fur over his body made him think about her naked form. He wanted to be next to her body. He wanted to feel her flesh. He wanted to be inside her. He huffed in frustration as he restrained his impulses. He pushed himself up and shook off the fur. Using his mouth, he dragged the fur back over her. He put his paw on top of the furs and gave a gentle bark to tell her in his wolfen way to stay where she was. The desire to have her flared up as he looked at her face. He felt a flush of lust, and he could not hide that from the way he looked over her body. Then he closed his eyes and growled as he shook his head. He sighed as he turned away from her.<br><br>He walked over the pantry and found the dried meat once more. He grabbed some in his mouth and carried it back to her, dumping it by her head. He went to the pantry again and returned with a jug of water, holding the handle on the jug awkwardly in his mouth. He put the jug beside her head as well.<br><br>The knowledge that she was naked and weak was still gnawing at his mind. He wanted her. After putting the jug down, he stared at her for a moment. He huffed once more. He nudged dried meat toward her with his snout. With some effort, he took his lust-filled gaze from her and lay down by the fire. He did not press his back to the furs that covered her this time. The less he thought about her body the better. He practiced breathing slowly as he stared at the base of the fire.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>12-01-2012, 01:32:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She felt the body move from her and frowned. Rosalyn had gotten so warm from him and yet it needed to be free from her. She vaguely remembered when he said he wanted to take her body beyond what a man and wife would perform. Blushing, she tried to shift deeper under the covers, the smallest movements exhausting her further. <br><br>He placed his paw on the furs and barked, wishing her not to protest. Finally opening her eyes, Rose saw a blurry vision of the massive wolf. He left the room and she frowned. Did she need to dress herself, to cover her body to lessen the temptation for him? Trying to sit up, then to rise, she failed each rising and collapsed against the cushions that were settled beside the fire. He soon returned to her vision with meat and water. It was such a kind gesture that he though to care for her as she did him. <br><br>"Thank you so much." She wanted to use his name but she did not catch it when he spoke it previously. He nudged the meat towards her and she broked a piece off to offer him. "I would very much like to speak with you, if you like. If I do not watch, will you return to your human counterpart?" She asked gently as she took a piece of meat and chewed both slowly and carefully. <br><br>Reaching for the jug of water, her hands shook trying to pour the liquid into her mouth. Completely frustrated, she spilled the contents onto the floor. Her cry offrustration and exhaustion filled the cottage. She tried to crawl over to the bed, holding the furs tocover her body. Her robe rested there as well as her chemise. She wanted some barrier between them in case he lost control of his urges. Making it her bed, She quickly hoisted herself up and covered her bare body with the chemise and robe, She rested onto the bed breathing heavily, exhausted from her feat. <br><br>"I do not fear you, You saved my life, I feel as if I owe you beyond words." She stated in a whisper as she slowly drifted back into a light sleep. The fire forever crackling, she felt safe with the wolf who rescused her life and saved her from the cold
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>12-01-2012, 05:20:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When the woman asked if he would transform so she could talk to him, he lifted his head only to shake it side to side in denial of her request. He laid his head down again. He needed to think. To talk to her would be to look at her and hear her voice. He needed separation from her attractiveness so he could think clearly. When she spilled her water and crawled to her bed, even then he could not help her.<br><br>Softly she spoke of not being afraid of him and of owing him. She was as foolish as she was kind. She should fear him. And she owed him nothing.<br><br>He was a werewolf, a beast of primal desires. His claws could easily rip her flesh. His jaws could break her arm. He could rape her in his wolf form and feel almost no remorse. Of course she should fear him.<br><br>She only went out in the snow because he had not done the responsible thing and simply left her cabin before she had awakened the first time. He knew better. He let the temptation of her flesh cloud his judgement. She owed him nothing, unless it was contempt for his selfish foolishness.<br><br>&nbsp;And now, now she needed someone to look after her. He was no doctor. He had no knowledge of the healing arts. He could only make sure she had food and water, and hope she recovered enough to take care of herself.<br><br>But could he resist her while that went on? If he gave in at all, he might not be able to stop. And all his good would become vile. She was too innocent. Even if he could seduce her and make her consent, she would have no idea to what she was consenting. She would not understand what yielding to his desires would mean for her. Yet the longer he remained, the stronger the temptation of her would be. He could not avoid her. He had to remain here and care for her at least until she got better. Trying to ignore her and take care of her would be ridiculous. It might even make the temptation worse. The only way to increase his ability to resist her would be to force himself to confront the temptation.<br><br>He got up and went into the pantry. He chomped down some dried meat and some dried fruit. With fuel in his stomach, he made himself transform to a human shape once more. He picked up a jug of water and drank the contents. He walked over to the chairs by the fireplace and pulled one over beside the woman’s bed. He sat facing her. He watched her breathe. He stared at the way the furs covered her chest. He examined the texture of her hair. He considered the shape her lips. All the while, he remained seated in the chair. His cock was stiff, and he ignored it. He would resist the temptation of her beauty. He would make his will strong enough to restrain himself. It was the only way.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>12-01-2012, 07:00:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It seemed like several hours had passed when she opened her eyes again. Rosalyn's body still felt very to heavy, but she forced her eyeslids to flutter open. She was staring at a man now in front of her, nude. She saw his arousal and blushed and tried hard to not gasp at the sheer size of him and immodesty. "You are still here..." Her voice was hoarse but it held a husky tone to it. She was happy he did not flee into the snow-filled night avoid her. Sleepily, she placed a small smile upon her face before trying to push herself up. Three attempts later, she was breathing heavily and her hair hung over her face but she was sitting. Rose's robe slipped open and the firelight created a thin sheet of her chemise beneath it, showing the swell of her breasts. She cleared her throat and rubbed it with her small hands. <br><br>"I am so happy your remained. Thank you for saving me. I must confess however, if you spoke your name I did not hear it. I do not wish to call you sir, I fear you would rebel against the word." Another small smile spread through her lips. They did not hold the same brillant and vibrant red they had before. She looked pale and so smalll under the pile of furs that laid across her lap. "Have you gotten anything to eat, I can see if I can fix something." <br><br>Pushing the furs off of her, she swayed before she tried to get off the bed and head into the kitchen. Her legs buckled under her weight and she came tumbling on top of him. She was immediately apologizing for her lack of balance. Rose shifted back to the bed and bit her bottom lip. "If you have a need for clothing, please, I offer you my father's garments. Anything you desire, it is yours, you could have left me to die in the snow and yet you struggled to save us both." Again when she spoke, her voice was not its usual tone. A light sheen of sweat began to coat her skin, as if a fever was beginning to take hold. <br><br>"If you are able to, could you perhaps place my water basin and a few clothes beside the bed. I fear that I might be stricken with a fever and I need to cool my body down." Though she was increasingly delerious, she knew the next couple of days would not be pleasant. She wanted to explain how she would need him to help care but she did not want him to feel obligated to watch over her. <br><br>"I am to be ill, I feel it coming upon me. I wish to care for myself but I am not certain I will be able to. Do you, mayhap, have the strong constitution to care for a unnatural woman like myself?" Rose asked timidly thinking of what else she would need. Her herbs would help speed the process but her delerious mind could not grasp which ones would help. She shifted back into the bed, losing her strength when sitting upright. Covering the furs over her body and lifted some up as if to beckon him inside. "You must still be cold, if you dress, I am more than willing to share this bed. It is big enough for the two of us."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>12-01-2012, 09:56:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He watched her wake and try to sit up. He knew he should help her, but he could not bring himself to touch her yet. To touch her skin and smell her flesh and feel her breath, it would consume him.<br><br>She spoke of his name and of calling him sir. “No, actually,” he said, “I would not mind being called sir at all.” <em>I would prefer it,</em> he thought but did not say. “But I will tell you my name. It is Wulfric.”<br><br>He watched her attempt to climb out of bed. As she fell on top of him, he reached out and grabbed her arms. The sudden intensity of her presence to very near stoked his arousal. His cock twiched. Even so, his first impulse was the shove her back to the bed. He flinched but stopped himself. He let go of her arms and let her return to the bed by herself.<br><br>“Anything you desire,” said the woman, “it is yours.” Devil woman! How could she say that to him? He gritted his teeth. She is innocent, he reminded himself. She probably did not realize the import of what she said to him. “You could have left me,” she continued, “to die in the snow and yet you struggled to save us both.” He merely shook his head slightly.<br><br>She spoke of being ill and asked for a water basin and some cloth. Then she asked if he was strong enough to care for her. He reminded himself again that she did not know the import of her words.<br><br>But then she spoke of sharing the bed. Whether he wanted to choke her or fuck her, he could not tell in that moment. She was temping him. With any other woman, he would believe she was doing it deliberately. But the this young woman was almost child-like in her innocence. She did not understand fully how she tempted him. She could not, or she would not say such things to him.<br><br>“I will do what I can to help you,” he said at last. “It is my responsibility. If I had left when I should have, you would not have been in the snow in the first place.” His voice was monotone as he struggled to constrain his desires and emotions.<br><br>“There is something you need to understand, Rosalyn,” he said as he stood up. “I am a lycanthrope. Look at me. Look at all of me.” He turned around in a slow spin. “I am an adult male. You are an adult woman, with an extraordinary beauty. Any normal human adult male would have a hard time keeping his hands from you. But I am either more or less than a human, depending on your perspective. My sexual desires are certainly not less than those of a human male. They are stronger by far. You offer to share your bed if I would dress. You seem not to grasp that clothes would not stop me. If I shared your bed, my hands would be on your flesh. My mouth would find your breasts. My cock--yes, I said cock--would find your crotch. You would be ravished multiple times.<br><br>“Yes, I am crude. I am base. I am vile. I cannot help that. But I am trying to be else. I am trying to be what I am not. But my strength in this matter reaches only so far. I see that you may not realize how you tempt me. So I do not fault you. But I do ask you to understand, I am not your brother or your pet dog. I am a lycanthope. I want to fu... I want to be inside you... to use your body for sexual pleasures.<br><br>“I get a sense that you trust me, Rosalyn. You should not. I am a base creature, wretched in mind and soul. When I get to the end of my strength to resist you, you will be ravished. Make no mistake about that. Rather than offering me your bed, you should be praying you recover before my strength runs out. Your only hope of safety is if I leave before I reach the end of my self-restraint. Do not doubt that.<br><br>“Understand, woman, that even now, I desire to grab handfuls of your hair and pull your mouth to my... to my flesh. To not do so is to deny what I am. Pray then. Pray that I can continue to deny what I am long enough for you to get well. Be grateful for every moment I do. I think you will not like me when I stop.<br><br>“For now, rest. I will do my best to tend to you. I have not your skill for healing, but what little I may do, I will.”<br><br>He made a sharp turn and walked away to find her water basin. He brought it to her and then turned toward her closet to see if he could find the cloth she had requested. He paused as he opened the door. The closet smelled of her. He closed his eyes for a second and opened them again.<br><br>“Where is this cloth you need, woman?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>13-01-2012, 00:25:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She felt foolish for nearly ordering him about her cottage but she was too weak to handle such a task. He finally spoke his name and she presented him a small smile. "It suits you perfectly. Wulfric," it was as if she whispered an incantation. <br><br>He promised to help her as much as he was able to. She seemed contented in that notion and she felt safe. Rosalyn was worried that she would have to care for herself in her feverish state. Her eyes were glazed over, truly showing her illness. <br><br>He rose and again explained to her that his desire were more than man. He called her beautiful in his reverie and she was blushed both at his words and his nude form. He wanted to defile her body more than a man would a woman and she shook her head. If he warranted his behavior towards him she deemed inappropriate, she would put him down. She hated using the darker side of her magic but she could not let her virtue be compromised.<br><br>"Then you should be warned, if you come untowards me in any matter I will be forced to defend myself." She raised a hand and flung a lamp into the fire and it exploded in the flames. Her hand dropped immediately and she took a few deep breaths to try and remain conscious. It took too much energy to produce such magics in her state. <br><br>His words still haunted her feverish mind as he went to fetch some cloths to dab her heated body. To be dominated by one such as he, made her shiver all the same. He used such crude words and such haughty images that it made her a bit worried. He wanted her to get well soon but she knew it would be at least a full two days before she was up on her feet, excelerated healing or not. <br><br>He asked which cloth to grab and she mumbled any of them. Rosalyn felt safe with him, regardless of his words on her trustful nature. He wanted her to be on her guard and she would be. She would not cast him out into the cold but pin him to a chair until he controlled his raging desires. Rose kicked off the furs, too hot from the heat within her to wear them. She needed the cool water upon her skin. <br><br>Her body soon went limp again, her eyes closing and allowing her heated form to seek the rest she needed. Breathing even and slow, her body looked chilled from the air but she was burning up from the inside. "Wulfric," in her sleep she mumbled his name in blissful desire. <br><br>She was a woman had only received chaste kisses from suitors. Never had she felt passion, this man was her wanton self in human form. He knew what she was and no fear came from him. Rose's body was forever becoming more hungry for a man. Her arousing behavior was always placed into studying her magics or chores around her cottage. She needed a man to show her what a woman was made for. <br><br>An hour later she stirred, looking for the man who was to care for her. "If I am rude or forceful, accept my apologies in advance. I do not know what kind of patient I would be."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>13-01-2012, 06:06:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The woman’s display of her magical power did not impress him. He knew she was weak. If dared, he could have his way with her. She still thought she was safe.<br><br>He looked in the closet for something to use to help her. He was not convinced that fighting her fever was the best course of action, but she was the healer and he was not. He found some bed sheets, and pulled a couple out. He sat on the side the bed and ripped the sheets into strips. He realized what the woman probably needed was some form of broth or something similar with some of her herbs in it. But he had no knowledge of how to prepare anything like that. And now she apparently expected him to wipe her naked form with wet cloth.<br><br>The gods or the fates or the universe or the devil or whoever made such choices, had brought him to care for this woman. He or they or it was probably laughing at him. He took a deep breath and hardened his resolve. He would not give in. He would do this thing and not falter. He would take anything the powers that be would foist upon him. He would take the abuse and become stronger.<br><br>He looked up to the ceiling. “Fuck you,” he said softly.<br><br>The woman had pushed away the furs and fallen asleep. She lay naked on the bed, covered in sweat. The glistening sheen only served to make her body seem more tempting. He was reluctant to touch her. It would be sensual. Also, he knew the fever meant her body was fighting off her illness. Even so, if her fever got too strong, that too could hurt her. He remembered something he had seen once before. He looked at the number of strips he had. They would be enough.<br><br>He took the basin to the door of the cabin and opened the door. The storm might still be raging, but all he could see was a wall of snow. He took some of the snow and put it into the basin. He closed the door and returned to the bed. Several strips of cloth were put in with the slowly melting snow. The wet strips he laid over her body, one after the other, covering her body with cold cloth strips. When he had covered her whole body, except her head, he got more snow and started again with more cloth. He took away each strip and replaced it with a new one. Her body would heat up the strips, and he continually replaced them, one at a time, keeping her body wrapped in cold as best he was able.<br><br>As he worked, he heard her murmuring. She was lost to the fever and whatever dreams her mind could conjure. He wondered about her dreams. What did she dream of? Power? Family? Sex?<br><br>He was careful to not touch her body more than necessary. He kept his fingers away from her tempting breasts. He forced himself not to caress her thighs or run fingers through her hair. He refused to watch her face.<br><br>Eventually she seemed to wake, and she apologized for being rude or forceful. What had she been dreaming that this was the first thing she said when she woke?<br><br>“Hush,” he said. “Rest. I am no healer, but I know you need rest and sleep.” As he spoke, he continued to work, replacing warmed strips of cloth with cold ones. He still did not look at her face. He had managed to keep his arousal down to a minimum. His cock was only semi-erect. His arms muscles were getting tired of the tedious work. “Do not strain yourself. Close your eyes and rest.”<br><br>He went to the door and got more snow. He returned to the bed and began again the task of keeping her cool. He did not look at her face. He would glance at her breasts only when necessary as he applied the cloth. He let his gaze linger on her crotch only for a moment before he turned his attention to the task at hand.<br><br>He would endure. He would remain strong. It was necessary, and he would do what was necessary.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>13-01-2012, 17:50:53</strong>
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				Her eyes were beginning to fall closed under his instruction. It was as if his voice seemed to pull her deep into the layers of sleep once more. The cold linens made her shiver but her fever seemed to fade. The chills upon her skin seemed to grow more pronounced and she shifted in her sleep. Her nipples were puckered from the cold, hardening into inviting buds of blush rose. <br><br>She stirred again and reached for the furs, a frown evident on her face. She did not know she was nude under his attentions and she opened her eyes again, blushing and covering herself with the layers of covers. "I think my fever has broken." She croaked, her voice still carrying the hoarse and soft tone. Would she be without it for a time? Rose tried to exam his appearance and saw he seemed both calmed in his arousal nad tired over his efforts. <br><br>"I am well enough to be left alone for a time. Why do you not try and get some rest. I willing to move by the fire and you can have the bed." She pushed herself to sit up, a fur pressed tightly to her chest. She made a move to rise, heading to the closet to slip on a gown to hide her nude form from his eager gaze. <br><br>Returning in a dress of crimson red, she settled one of the furs over herself as she curled into the chair by the fire. She grabbed her nearby book and tried to concerntrate of the words but they became blurry and the book too heavy. <br><br>A sweet sigh escaped ehr lips again with his name shortly whispered after as she allowed her literature to fall from her hands and hit the floor in a thump.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>13-01-2012, 19:05:43</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				He was quiet as she roused herself from sleep. He sat motionless as she suggested he rest and as she moved to the closet to clothe herself. She seemed not to need his reply, so he offered none. In most anyone else, he might have thought it rude. But she had lived alone, and probably was simply acting as she might normally act in her own home.<br><br>When she exited her closet in a gown of temptress red, he forced himself to ignore her. He turned himself to picking up the wet strips of cloth. He put them all in the water basin and set them aside. He pulled the covers off the bed and then removed the sheets that were wet from the strips of cloth and from her sweat. He found more sheets in her closet and laid them on the bed, though he made no effort to neatly tuck them in. He hardly cared about such things. The vast majority of his nights were spent sleeping outside on the ground.<br><br>He went to check on her, heard her whisper his name and watched the book fall from her hands. He shook his head. He stepped forward and scooped her up in his arms. Even though he managed to keep himself from looking at her, her scent filled his nostrils, and her body was warm next to his. His cock stiffened slowly as he carried her unconscious form to the bed. He laid her down on the dry sheets and covered her with one of the furs.<br><br>He returned to the chair he had moved near to her bed. Eventually, his cock relaxed. He felt he was getting a hold on his desires. He would overcome the situation to which the powers that be had led him. Surely he had seen all this innocent woman might do to tempt him. And he had resisted all of it. And when she was well, she would be a witch with power to repel him. She would be safe, and he would have done no harm to her. Soon he would leave, and she would be able to tell the story of how she survived her encounter with a werewolf.<br><br>That was all he was worth anyway, something to be survived and be mentioned in stories. Eventually she would know a man, and there would be children who would hear the tale of how mommy held the vile wolfman at bay. By then, he would be to the woman little more than a memory distorted by time. It was all he deserved to be to her. Or to anyone. He was a monster, after all. No one should live with monsters. Least of all her.<br><br>As he sat there, watching her, he wondered what her life would be like in the future. Surely word of the beautiful witch in the woods would reach someone. Some brave young fellow would come and prove his worth to her. They would fall in love. Perhaps. It seemed a better scenario than her living out her days here alone. For her beauty to be so wasted seemed a shame.<br><br>He sat still and watched her breathe. He focused on his own breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Someday, far away from this cabin, he would dream about what it would have been like to know the woman sexually. And it would be a lovely dream. That was all it could ever be. He wondered if she would know. Would she know he thought of her, dreamt of her? Would she even care? He shook his head and breathed. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>13-01-2012, 19:59:34</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				She felt something hard and strong lift her from her place by the fire. Her head was resting on his shoulder but soon the sensations were taken from her. The bed was dry and soft, the furs covered her form and she seemed to forever content. <br><br><em>Her dreams were odd and not near as surreal as they had been in the past. She was standing in front of her fire, nude. She watched the flames flickering as if she were mesmerized but the light. Her blue eyes seemed to reflect their color, feeding off of the element. She heard the door open and close, she turned her head and smiled in delight. <br><br>He was home from the hunt.<br><br>She ran into his arms and he kissed and caressed her bare body, eagerly carrying her to the bed. His clothes were gone in a few moments and she moaned as her skin met his. Her kissed her lips and worked his way lower, slowly swirling his tongue and lips lover. Rose arched her back to meet his mouth and a moan escaped her lips. He devoured her aching nipples, teasing and grazing his teeth against the budded peeks. <br><br>Moving his mouth lower, he reached her core with a wicked smile on his lips. He flicked his tongue over her swollen bud an she nearly came undone. He slipped a finger inside her, she gasped at the way her body clenched around him. He worked it faster and faster until she cried out in blissful pleasure. <br><br>Returning to normal, she took his hand away and rose to pleasure him. Her erection was hot and firm against her lips. Her red mouth, suckled him softly as he cursed from his instant pleasure. She slipped his throbbing member deeper into mouth, moving faster as her small hands stroked his shaft. <br><br>He shoved her head away and pinned her to the bed, thrusting deep inside of her. She cried out in ectasy as he rode her little form until they both reached the deepest pleasure possible. She was sated in both body and mind before she saw the face of her dream lover. "Wulfric," she kissed his lips before her eyes snapped open.</em><br><br>Her dream had been so vivid so real, she had a blush as she watched him through her half-open eyes. Rosalyn still felt his hands on her body and her core ached from lack of real release. She looked at him, the fire still reflecting in her eyes as she shook her head to clear it. <br><br>She had been moaning in her sleep, her throat was raw from straining her voice. Her hands were gripping the sheets as if she writhed in pleasure. She threw the covers off, needing to clear her mind, and went to her pantry to fix some breakfast for the two of them. She became dizzy, a few times but she battled the feelings. <br><br>She handed him a plate of eggs, dried meat and toast with a glass of sweet wine. She settled her own food on the table beside her bed and slowly slipped her tea. "I hope you were able to get some rest. I hate to be the cause of your wakefulness. You did not have to carry me back to the bed, I was fine by the fire. I wished for you to sleep here." She gently patted the bed beside her. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>13-01-2012, 22:05:16</strong>
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				The woman had begun to move in her sleep. She had moaned and whimpered in a very sensual manner. As he watched her, he wondered what dream occupied this innocent woman’s mind. The sounds she made prompted his cock to stiffen once more. Eventually she seemed to be moving her hips up and down as if in the act of sex itself.<br><br>Before he thought about what he was doing, he stood up. But he stopped himself. She was still ill. And she was a sleep. She was not controlling what she was doing in front of him. He sat down and looked away from her.<br><br>But then she spoke his name. He turned to look at her, and she had apparently awakened. She looked at him with desire. His cock was fully erect. He gripped the arms of the chair and forced himself to breathe slowly. He watched as she shook her head and pushed away the fur that covered her. She walked away without a word.<br><br>He remained in the chair, grateful that she seemed to be getting well and for the opportunity to clear his head. He looked at where she had lain on the bed. He wondered again what had been in her dream. He wanted to make her whimper and moan. He wondered what making her moan his name might be like. He sighed and forced himself to focus on his breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Several deep breaths helped him main his calm. His cock, however, did not relax. His arousal was simmering.<br><br>He smelled the food she cooked and realized he was hungry again. He was glad to accept the plate of food she handed him. The eggs he scooped onto the toast. He took a sip of the wine before taking a bite of the eggs and toast. He listened to her speak and then pat the bed beside her. She was tempting him again. An image flashed through his mind, an image of himself holding her hips as he fucked her from behind. He exhaled.<br><br>“You are still unwell. You need restful sleep far more than I do. But your sleep leaves me wondering. You seemed... shall we say, aroused. Your moans were very pleasing to the ear. You also writhed in a manner that seemed very sensual. So I am left wondering what was the content of your dream. Not that I expect you to tell me. Dreams are very personal. I think sometimes dreams try to get the conscious mind to admit to something the subconscious desires. But I am creature of base impulses, and am probably simply wishing your dream was about me. I am selfish that way.”<br><br>He might not give into his desire to fuck her. But somehow enticing her to think of him in a sexual manner did not seem out of bounds. Perhaps it would be good for her to feel for him a little of what he felt for her.<br><br>He turned his attention back to eating his food.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>14-01-2012, 02:33:50</strong>
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				Her eyes went wide as he asked such a question. She had no idea she had responded thusly as she slept. She looked away from him and played with her eggs before she tried to find a suiteable answer. "Twas an odd dream for me to have. I have to say, I-I never reacted in such a matter." Her voice was soft again, barely audible from her illness. She shifted and draped a fur over her body for warmth. She turned her her attentions to him and tried to put it as delicately as she could. She feared he would not be able to control himself if she expressed the truth. <br><br>She never had lied before and she wished not to start now. <br><br>"WUlfric, I-I must say tis not the most ladylike thing to discuss. She coughed, turned her head and rubbed her throat having issue with the raw and dry feelings. She sipped her tea and tried again. "I was dreaming of what my life would be like if I was allowed to take a husband. If society had not deemed me a outcast. I know I shall never be allowed to marry, people fear my abilities. I have never hurt a soul who did not deserve it. I have never killed nor cursed anyone." Again she coughed and she removed the plated from her lap and adjusted herself so that she was laying down facing him as she spoke. <br><br>"I have had that dream before but the face of the man was never truly clear except tonight when I saw him. I saw your face." Her face heated quickly and she threw the covers over her face, completely unsure what she should do. "I know it is entirely uncomfortable and I apologize for it. I will try and restrain myself and perhaps drink some tea with a bit of sleeping draught in it. I would not dream and I hope to not make you ill at ease." Rosalyn removed the blanket timidly to face how he took the news. <br><br>"It was a feverish dream of a lone maiden. It was truly nothing to worry about."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>14-01-2012, 05:02:04</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				That the woman spoke of the dream at all was a surprise. He fully expected she would not. As she spoke her voice quickly became soft, but his ears were keen. He heard each whispered syllable. He listened to her lead up to what she had to say by talking about not being allowed to marry. He wondered just exactly who would stop her from giving herself to a man.<br><br>He listened to her mention that she had seen his face in the dream, and watched as she reacted like a little girl by covering her face under the bed covers. He smirked a little. Apparently she was already thinking of him in a sexual manner. This pleased him, but it also warmed his simmering arousal.<br><br>She apologized to him, and tried appease him. When she uncovered her face and told him the dream was nothing to worry about, he chuckled.<br><br>“You are starting to understand that tempting a lycanthrope is dangerous. This is a good thing. But no man, even a wolfman trying restrain himself, is offended by hearing that a beautiful woman had a sexual dream about him. And to be honest with you, woman, that you might share a small portion of my lust pleases me. It surprises me as well. I had thought you mostly innocent of such things.<br><br>“Your comments about not being allowed to marry are why I am not in your society. A woman like you should not be wasted because you have magic. In another life, you would have been a monarch’s choice concubine. You are a woman with a body that should be touched and made to know carnal pleasures. Intense carnal pleasures. Your lips should be kissed. Your breasts should be held and squeezed in man’s hands. Your body should enjoyed by someone who appreciates the finest womanly beauty. You should be made to moan and squeal in lustful delight. Any free human man worth his salt should find the path to conquer you. That you are shunned and wasted here alone is black mark against your society. That someone like you might come from that society is perhaps the only good thing to be said for it.”<br><br>He huffed as if to punctuate his comments with derision for her society. He turned back to his food. He chewed a piece of meat while taking a sip of the wine she had brought him. He watched her face and wondered what her reaction would be.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>14-01-2012, 07:19:01</strong>
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				Rosalyn carefully listened to his words, each of them warming her heart. He was giving her the small glimmer of hope that there was more man than wolf inside of him. He did not pounce upon her as she expected him to, nor did he pressure her into doing anything she did not wish. He questioned about her society and their issues towards her. He stated she was beautiful and deserved to be associated with the finest monarchs. She shook her head as a few curls fell in front of her face and she brushed them off. <br><br>"I did not mean to tempt you in any manner. Tis my wish for you to stay, comfortably, within my home for the duration of this heinous season. My guilt would drive me out into the snow once more searching for you." Rose's words were very sincere and she was unsure how to address the marriage issue. Her outcast status within society left a sour taste upon her sweet tongue. <br><br>"I do not often share my story with many people. All of my previous friends and companions abandoned me two years ago. It was my coming out ball, one to signify my entering the world and readying my hopes of marriage. I had very little men upon my dance card because they heard claims of oddities surrounding me. One man became completely foolish and made an attempt to ravish me, the smell of drink was obvious on him. I panicked and raised my hands, creating a ring of fire surrounding me to ward him off. I was in the middle of the crowd when this occurred. Naturally, over the upcoming days, my invitations to numerous events were receded and my friends lost all trust and kindness towards me."<br><br>Wiping the tears that fell from her dark blue eyes, she continued her tale. "My father was approached by numerous business partners, hoping his 'witch' daughter could aid them with their endeavors. He was appalled by such offers and soon became a nuisance in town. Many demanded a high price to use my skills but he wished me to remain uncorrupted and denied them. He hid in our home for my safety. There were threats made to our staff who forever remained faithful. Soon, many demanded my head if I was not sent away. No one wanted a heathen in their midst, despite who my father was. This is how I ended here, I have stayed since. I do not wish to make my father's life more difficult. It was my idea to move away though he insisted he'd join me. I told him I would be safe and I had need of him, I would send my servant. I needed to live alone, to begin my true life as I know how lonely it would be. I did not want to bring him to join me in such a hell. He had my brothers to worry about who were also angered in the treatment of me and my father." <br><br>"I sent my maid to the estate during the winter months so she may have the conveniences of town. No one knows she is attached to me. She brings me news of town when she arrives in the spring as well as my father's coin and supplies. She always has tales my father diligently writes to share with me if he knows he will not see me for a time. It is nice to have a friendly face here and I consider her a friend." <br><br>"As for your words you spin to me, they are sweet but I know what I look like. Tis plain and simple I see in my looking glass each morn. Many say I have bewitched them if I am seen as anything other than that. I have no power over how I look nor others' will."<br><br>The way he described her, made another reddened flush creep over her pale cheeks. He was imagining several things she had dreamed of only a half hour's pass. How could he know what her body demanded of her? She tried to change the subject quickly. Her throat was still sore, her pitch and tone not strengthening in the least. She would most likely be without a voice for the following days, straining and whispering to get her words across. "I hate to ask this of you but do you mind placing some wood on the fire?" The cold winds seemed to creep into the cottage and her magics were not at their strongest to battle with the cold.&nbsp; <br><br>"I hope you enjoyed your meal, I do like to cook when I am able to. I made something simple since my strength was waning." Her hopes he did enjoy her cooking was a small sign of acceptance from him. If he liked the food, perhaps he would stay for some more time, after she faired better. "Wulfric, what is your favor meal? Perhaps I shall arrange to prepare it one eve when I feel much more like myself."<br><br>"Feel free to chose clothing to wear from the chest, my father's clothing remains in there. If you fill the tub with water, I think I can scrounge up some magic the warm the water up." She gave him a soft smile as she rubbed her burning eyes. She had just awaken from a restful nap and yet her eyes burned, eagerly wishing to close once more. That sedative she slipped into her brew was taking effect faster than she had hoped. Him staying in that constant nude state would warrant him becoming ill next and she had to admit she was growing increasingly attracted to his sculpted form. She wished for him clothed and content, tis the normalcy she needed after such a dream.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>14-01-2012, 19:39:01</strong>
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				He listened to her speak. He watched her face. He waited until she was finished.<br><br>“A few things need to be explained to you, woman. Listen carefully.” His tone was serious but soft, as if he were speaking to a child.<br><br>“First, what you perceive when you look at yourself in your mirror is not relevant to the fact that the woman I see before me is beautiful. Do not again insult me by telling me I do not know what I see or that I am not telling the truth. I am not one strongly tempted by the plain and ordinary. Derogating my honesty and my standards of beauty is a good way to make me angry. You really do not want to see me angry.<br><br>“Second, if I remain for the winter, you will end up getting f....” He gritted his teeth for a moment. “If I remain for the winter, either you will end up finding out what happens when a husband lusts for his wife, or you will end up killing me to defend yourself.” He leaned forward in the chair. “I know you are a witch with power. You should not underestimate me. My will is strong, and for evidence I offer the fact that you are not yet ravaged.” He stood up. “You have been weak, and if I had followed by impulses you would have known what it is to have my....” He leaned over her, and looked directly down into her face. “You would have known the sensations of hard and rough sexual intercourse. But I am trying to be what I am not, and so I refrain. Even now, my base impulse is to pin you to the bed and rip your dress from you and ravish your body.” Without touching her or her dress, his hands moved over her body as if caressing her. He gripped his hands into fists and put them on the bed as he leaned closer to her. “And right now, my will restrains my impulses. My will would not become less strong if I changed my mind. If anything, the alignment of my will and my vile nature would be stronger. So make no mistake, if I remain through the winter, your maid would come back to either my corpse or a mistress who had lost her virginity many times over.<br><br>“I am tempted to explain what might happen to you, what I might do to you, how I would abuse your flesh for my sexual pleasure, but that would serve no purpose but to be cruel. As much I like the idea of you finally being sexually tempted by me, it is not my intention to corrupt you with the lustful ramblings of a foolish beast. My instinct is to....” Again he paused to grit his teeth. His jaw flexed as he fought internally to control his mouth. He pushed himself away from the bed and sat once more in the chair. “My instinct is to say more,” he said in an almost angry tone, “and blather on like the foolish beast that I am, but as I said, I am trying to be what I am not.” His voice softened and lost its angry edge. “Something you should be glad you never have to do.<br><br>“One more thing I need to explain to you: You say if I left, you would go out into the snow to look for me. That would be inadvisable. Not only might that put your health in jeopardy, but if you found me in my wolf form after I had left you behind... well, let’s just say, at that point my will would not be focused on resisting the temptation of your body.”<br><br>“Before I say too much, I will shut up now. I will try not to bother you with my arrogant lectures in the future. And right now, you clearly need to sleep. So close your eyes and rest. I will take care of the fire, and the hint about my needing to wash is noted. As for clothes, I will consider the matter, but I make no promises. Go to sleep now, woman. You need to get well.”<br><br>He stood and walked over to the fire. He was not inclined to believe it needed more wood. Whatever spell she had used before seemed to still be working on it. But a larger fire might shave a bit more cold out of the room. So he added more wood and stared into the fire for a while.<br><br>He probably did need to wash. He probably smelled of sweat and grime to the woman. He did not want to use too much of the cabin’s supply of water. Had he soap, he could simply use snow. But he had no idea where the soap might be, and he did not feel like rummaging through the woman’s house as the woman slept. He sat down on the floor before the fire. He would wait. When she needed his help or got up from her bed, he would hear her.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>15-01-2012, 00:41:51</strong>
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				Rosalyn was insulting him with stating she felt she was plain. Her eyes widened at his words and before she could apologize, he continued on. She felt completely flustered at his words. He wanted to bed her still, knowing what she is capable. He would risk his life, as she would defend her own, and he would be dead at her hand. He would forever be relentless and if he built the courage to leave and she followed, her body would be defiled in his wolf form. <br><br>The only reason he did not follow through with his actions was because of her illness and his will. She would hope he could last the duration of the cold season here. She would be killing him either way, being he left or stayed and attempted to defile her. <br><br>Her virtue was the only thing she felt that was her choice to give. What would happen if her own feverished mind allowed such actions to happen to her. Rose heard his words upon his foolish blathering and arrogant lectures. She shook her head giving him a sympathetic gaze. He was as lonely as she but he had to fight his nature while she embraced it. He spoke of her needing to sleep but she wanted to converse more with him. She opened her mouth to speak but no words, indeed her voice was gone. She snapped her mouth close as she listened to his words and slipped into sleep. <br><br>No dreams attacked her, the heat from the fire pulling her deep into the realm of sleep. She kicked off her sheets, the fever not fully broken as she once thought. A soft gasp escaped her lips, resembling a stifled groan. She did not want the snow-chilled linens but to sweat the illness from her body. She felt her eyes opening after only a half-past hour. She wanted to rest but her body was battling over issues. Her arousal to the dangerous man a mere scant feet from her, her fevered illness, her lost voice and her sympathetic heart. <br><br>"Wulfric," her voice was again barely a whisper. She pushed herself and had hwr feet touch the floor. She went to rise but crumpled under her weight to the ground. A sheen of sweat was visible upon her skin. "I-I need the pantry, I need help to get there. I need the herbs I have in there." Her words were slurred and her vision was becoming hazy. "Please." It was a gently plead on her lips as she begged for assistance. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>15-01-2012, 10:29:16</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				As he sat by the fire silently, the thought occurred to him that the woman might just kill him. He had, after all, essentially threatened to rape her. Once she was well, she might kill him. She could put some poison in his food or drink. Maybe she would just reach out and burn him alive. Maybe she would be more devious. Maybe she would strike him with madness and leave him to fend for himself in the cold. It would be no less than he deserved. Maybe she would have mercy and simply stop his heart. That might be more romantic. She would kill the heartless beast by stopping his heart. What a good story that would make.<br><br>When he heard her fall to the floor, he was quickly by her side. She whispered something about her herbs. She was in a fever again. He picked her up in his arms and cradled her head against his shoulder.<br><br>“Hush now,” he said gently to her as he carried her to the room where he had found her magical herbs and potions. “Shh. I’m here. I know, you need your medicines.” The feel of her body and the scent of her heated flesh was stoking his arousal. His erection was stiff, and urge to begin licking her sweat was strong. He breathed through gritted teeth. “Okay,” he said in a soothing tone, “we are here with your herbs. You just point out to me what you need, and I’ll get it.”<br><br>He continued to hold her as he turned slowly in the middle of the room so she could see all of her herbs and medicines. His arms held her snugly. He wanted to squeeze her body to him. He wanted to feel her breathing. He wanted to feel her hands on his flesh. He wanted to taste her lips. He struggled to keep himself from beginning to nuzzle and lick her neck. He head lowered, and he could smell her honey sweetness. He brought his face close to her neck and stopped himself. He shook his head and pulled it back.<br><br>She would kill him. He was sure. He was helping the woman who would kill him. The powers that be were laughing at him still.<br><br>“Quickly now,” he said, barely able to mask his lust. “The sooner we do this, the sooner you get the medicine you need.”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>15-01-2012, 18:17:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rosalyn murmured to Wulfric but he was already carrying her to her pantry and her head nestled into his embrace. Her eyes were still having issues on focusing but she was able to indicate a jar of dried roots. Her head was to heavy to keep upright and she soon went limp in his embrace. Rose felt the bed soon beneath her and a gentle sigh of pleasure escaped her lips. She was half awake but she needed to focus on the task at hand, she needed to explain what to do. <br><br>"I thank you for your help and I know I must be making things hard on you." Her words were meant to mean thanks not to tempt him any further. Her eyes were growing heavier but she continuously snapped them open. "The root needs to be ground up and brew in a tea. Tis a vile taste but it should help with the fever." She rubbed her throat and tried clearing it. "The... The kettle should be on the stove and well is behing the pantry door." She was beginning to fade slowly. <br><br>"Lighting the root would help as well but it would effect you as well. I hate for you to become sedated and wish to sleep the day away. I wish for you to relax but not aided by the touch of witchery." She felt her body slowly begin to slip into a dreamlike state. "I have to be covered, tis better to sweat the fever out then cool it down." She reached blindly for her furs and covered herself up t her chin. <br><br>"If you have a need of anything, please wake me and ask. I hope you can enjoy your time here though you say it is limited. I wish for you to stay, know that will be what I am battling for. You make me feel safe from the true villanous monsters in the woods." She softly added as her battle to remain conscious was fading. The root would keep her in a deep sleep once consumed or lit.<br><br>"If you be wish to bathe, there is soap in the pantry next to the well. I have linens there also to dry off with and I spoke of where the clothing was right?" She could barely remember what was said in delerium. She desperate wished he would take the bed and rest for a few hours and she finally remembered something. '<br><br>"There's... a cot... behind this bed, try... and get some rest. You look... like you need it..." Rosalyn surrendered to the call and allowed her body and mind to rest. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>16-01-2012, 05:43:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He leaned back to rest her weight on his torso, and then reached up to grab the jar the woman had indicated. He put the jar on her lap and carried her back to the bed. When he laid her down, she seemed rouse herself and said she knew she was making things hard for him. At first he smirked at the unintended joke in her words, but the smirk faded as he realized just how strong his desire for her becoming.<br><br>The woman explained that the root needed to be made into a tea. She also mentioned lighting the root, which he inferred meant to use it like an incense. She spoke of it sedating. She must truly trust him to give him something that he could use to make her sedated. How easy it would be. Make the tea strong, and let her drink it. And then pull her dress from her body and explore her flesh as he longed to do. He looked over her body, the way the fabric of the red dress covered her and at the same time emphasized the line of her body. To slide the dress from her slowly, and then slide his hands over her just as slowly... He chided himself and refocused his thoughts.<br><br>The woman said he made her feel safe from the villainous monsters in the woods. Did she not realize she was asking a villainous monster to make her tea? She was weak and ill and tired. She must not have known what she was saying. Perhaps she had become delirious again and thought she was talking to her father. Yes, he thought, that must have been it.<br><br>She passed out while mentioning a cot and telling him to get some rest. He realized he had missed his chance to ask how much of the root he was supposed to use to make a tea. He sighed and stared at her face. How she could complain that she was plain, he had no idea. He reached up and traced the line of her cheek. And then the line of her nose. And then the shape of her mouth. He leaned his head down to her face. She smelled so very delicious.<br><br>He threw himself back from the bed. He forced himself to breathe slowly. He had to focus on something else. There was something he was supposed to be doing. The tea. Grind the root and make it into a tea. The scent of her would not leave his nostrils. He wondered if he would ever be free of it, or if it would haunt him for the rest of his life. He chuckled. She was likely to kill him. The rest of his life would not last long at all.<br><br>He took up the jar, which had fallen over on the bed, without looking directly at Rosalyn. He took it to the kitchen and began to hunt for a mortar and pestle. When he found one, he turned to the root once more. How much would be enough? How much would be too much? Wouldn’t it be funny if he ended up killing her instead because he was too ignorant to keep from poisoning her. <br><br>No, he thought, that would not be funny at all. She was a healer and a beautiful woman. She had something of value to give to the world. Unlike him.<br><br>He opened the jar and wrinkled his nose at the scent of the root. He picked up the root and broke off a piece. He put the piece in the mortar and put the rest back in the jar. He began to mash and grind the root with the pestle. It felt good to demolish something and turn it into powder, but his arousal abated not at all. <br><br>He found the kettle and the well. Soon water was heating up by the fireplace. He had no idea how to properly work a stove. He when the water seemed hot enough, he took the kettle back to the kitchen and put in the ground root. He let powder sit in the hot water for a few minutes as he rummaged around to find a cup. The trinkets of society, he thought. In the woods, he would just chew on fresh root and drink water from a stream. Finally he poured some tea from the kettle into a cup.<br><br>He walked over to the bed and stared at her. Her chest rose and fell as she slept, and for a few moments he watched her breasts move. How delightful would be to play with those breasts until her nipples were stiff. And then to listen to her whimper as he licked her nipples slowly. He shook his head. He had to stop thinking these thoughts.<br><br>The woman was asleep. She had gotten him to drink once, by sitting behind him and leaning his torso on her chest. How nice it would be to feel her behind him once more, her body spooning to his. He growled softly as he mentally chastised himself. And yet, he did not stop himself from doing the one thing that would damn his chances of resisting her.<br><br>He sat down on the bed and pulled her to lean her back against his side. He felt her hair against his skin. He smelled her hair. He smelled her flesh. She was so soft against him. He slid a hand over her arm. The tea. He had to give her the tea. He managed to lift the cup to her mouth and tip the cup ever so slightly. His free hand reached up and slowly caressed her throat.<br><br>“Come on, woman,” he whispered, “drink this. Drink it and get well. The sooner you are well, the sooner you can be done with me. The sooner you will have your magic back to curse me or kill me. Maybe you could use my death as your means to gain favor with your society. Then you could find some man you can trust and love. Then you would not end...” He stopped himself. “Sorry, the idiot monster is babbling again. I’ll shut up. Finish your tea and rest.”<br><br>He could smell the tea but it was not enough to overpower her scent. She was an assault to his senses. His hand at her throat began to slide over her collar bone before he pulled his hand away. He nuzzled her hair just to feel it on his face. He lowered his head to taste her neck. The instant his lips touched her skin, he pulled his head back. He was suddenly very grateful she leaned against his side. It meant his cock was not touching her, even though he wanted it to.<br><br>When he was sure she had consumed all the tea in the cup, he set the cup aside and laid the woman’s body back down. He slid his hands along her arms. He almost touched the red fabric that covered her chest. He stopped himself. He pulled the furs up over her body. He reached down to touch her warm lips. He traced the curve of her lips with his fingers. He forced himself to turn away from her.<br><br>He went to the kitchen and hunted for a bowl. He found one and he put another piece of the root into it. He walked over to the fire and lit the end of a stick of wood. He used the stick to heat the root. The root caught flame, and he blew it out. As the root smoked he carried it to the table by her bed.<br><br>How would it be to lay beside the woman? She was so beautiful. She ought to be held and caressed by someone. Someone ought to run his hands over her body, feel every inch of her skin and explore the touches that made her whimper and moan and beg for more. Why could that someone not be him?<br><br>Because she would hate him. She would find him touching her, and she would scream not in pleasure but in fear and disgust. Her witch powers would rise up and strike him down. And she would hate him forever.<br><br>But to touch her body. To feel her arch up against him as he slid his erection inside her. To hear her moan and cry out his name as he fucked her hard.<br><br>He shook his head. He had to stop thinking about such things. He felt light headed. What was that root? Was it making him intoxicated, or was she? He turned and walked to the front door. He stepped into the wall of snow and let the cold punish him until his skin started to hurt. He pulled back and closed the door. He put another piece of wood on the fire to combat the chill he had just let into the room.<br><br>He walked over to the side of the bed. He stared at her. He wondered what sort of man would be able to win her, would be able to make her love him enough to give her body to him. He wondered if any man in her society would be good enough to make love to her flesh as she deserved.<br><br>He sat down beside her. He reached out and caressed her lips. His fingers trailed over the furs that covered her body. She could not mind that. She would not feel his fingertips sliding lightly over the furs to trace the shape of her body.<br><br>His eyelids felt tired and heavy. He shook his head to rouse himself. He wondered if she would mind if he put his face in her hair. It was soft and delicate like her. No, she was a witch. She was powerful. But to feel her hair, to kiss her, to have her body next to his. He felt himself falling and suddenly opened his eyes. No, he wasn’t falling. He was still sitting on the bed. He glanced to the smoking root. How could it be so powerful? Had he been sleepy before? He felt himself falling again, and his body jerked as he blinked his eyes. He needed to watch her. She was ill. And he needed to touch her... no, to watch her. He needed to make sure she was held and... no, to make sure she got well. He was so sleepy. He could just slip under the furs and curl up with her body. He reached to pull the furs back. No, he thought. He had to fight that. He had to fight drowsiness. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a moment...<br><br>His head dropped, and he slumped forward. He slipped from the bed and landed on the floor. He was fast asleep.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>16-01-2012, 06:52:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The scent of the tea and a hardened body was all she remembered him coaxing her into the vile brew. His voice was gentler, softer and she soon slipped into his touch easily and began to swallow the corrosive fluids. He shifted, more than likely feeling the effects of her nearness and removed the cup from her lips. She had no memory of his fingers lightly trailing over her fair face, no sensation of gentleness from the man who worked to hide his beastly nature and to care for her well being. He had made the tea perfectly and it was doing its job efficiently.<br><br>He was speaking to her, she wished should would have been able to hear his words or reply to them. She wanted to know how he felt about her, besides the physical attraction. She was motionless as he laid her gently back to the cushions, her body covered immediately by the furs he draped generously over her. She felt the fire grow hotter but she was already beyond the heat from the flames when it came to being hot. The door had opened for a few brief moments and it was shut. Again, she felt him beside the bed and a soft sigh escaped her now pale lips. <br><br>Her dreams were similar to the ones she had previously. She thought she would not have to deal with such wanton arousing scenes, but her body was too leaden with the sedative to react as she had before. Hours seemed to have passed when something bothered her enough to wake her. She felt his pressence beside her and felt him slide the furs from her body. She felt him even pressed against her for a few moments but he shifted once he caught himself. He must have used both the tea and the incense, tis a weighty combination. The root had finished its burning and the fog of her consciousness slowly allowed her to fully wake. She was still heavy with fever but her mind could not sleep. Something was amiss. <br><br>She looked about for Wulfric and saw him crumpled on the ground beside her bed. "Oh goodness, what happened to you?" She tried to speak once more but her voice was still gone. Rosalyn brushed a frustrated hand through her lightly damp hair and she sat up on the bed. The room seemed to spin as she attempted to settle herself, she kneeled beside him on the ground. She had two options, she could cover him with a fur or try to get him in the bed. Both would require some strength she may not be able to summon. Her hand gently stroked his face, she placed her head in her lap and smiled softly. "I wish you were more human than man. Tis plain to see, you would be a good provider and a great protector for me. I know I would make you happy but it is you who are too scared about losing control. If we met when you were not controlled by your beast, I would take you as my husband." She breathed lightly as she carefully ran her fingers through his hair. <br><br>Feeling resolved, she carefully placed his head back on the ground and slid the furs away from the bed. She tried her hardest to hoist him up onto her bed, blushing at his hardened erection and chiseled form. After several tries, he was in her bed and she was out of breath. She reached over, her hand shaking with each movement, and broke a small piece of the root off and pressed her fingers to light the end and she blew it out. Slipping it in the bowl the other incense had been, she felt her eyes grow heavy and she soon curled her heated body beside his. She wanted to drag the cot out towards the fire for herself but her body was not cooperating. <br><br>Covering the two of them, she curled herself between him and the wall. Her eyes finally closed as she rested her head on his shoulder, sleep claiming her again. Time passed and soon the second root faded and the air was clearing from the smoke. Marguerite was too entwined with his body and too heavily asleep to stir. Her hand rested on his massive chest and her hair fell like a curtain of copper waves both on his chest and all around her. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>16-01-2012, 21:31:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His mind descended into a drug influenced dream. At first he was standing over Rosalyn. He picked her up and carried her to bed where he ripped her dress from her and had wild sex with her. She did not protest. She caressed him and scratched him and pushed herself to his body. Only in the moment she should be screaming in pleasure, the dream turned. Suddenly he was standing over her body once more, only she was dead and bloody. A strange woman in a maid’s uniform stood at the open door of the cabin. The maid was screaming. But worst of all, was that the maid was Lucienne. Once more she was screaming at him and calling him a murderer. He looked down and saw the bloodied body of Rosalyn. She seemed to dissolve into blood. The level of blood began to rise. It covered his calfs before he tried to escape. But the door was shut and he could not open it. The blood rose higher and higher. And it smelled of Rosalyn. It smelled of sweet fruit and warm honey. The room was filling with her blood. He swam toward the fireplace, but as he swam he never got any closer to it. The blood rose still, getting closer and closer to the ceiling. He finally stopped struggling. He let himself feel his lungs fill with her blood. He drowned in her blood. And he watched as the scene changed and men charged into the cabin to find his corpse on the floor. Rosalyn was there, very much alive, and explaining how she had killed him because he had dared to touch her sexually. And Lucienne was there too, explaining that he deserved to die because he was nothing but a murdering monster.<br><br>The dream faded, and he began to slowly drift toward wakefulness. He was on something soft that smelled deeply of the woman, but then he felt sleep seep into him again, and once more he dreamed.<br><br>He dreamed of the flight from the bear. He ran this way and that until he was running up a hill. He got to the top and found it had been washed away on the other side. The ground gave beneath his wight, and he fell. As he fell, the bear laughed at him. Injured with a broken leg and cracked rib, he wandered until he came to a cabin. He recognized it immediately. It was Rosalyn’s cabin. The scent of sweet fruit and warm honey wafted from the building, enticing him to enter. He took a step toward the cabin, but then stopped. He knew what would happen. He would go in and she would be there to tend his injuries and tempt his body and soul. And he would fail. He would try to be good, but he would fail because he was a vile lycanthrope. And she would use her magic to freeze him in place and then to beat him until he died. He had to leave. He could not go in the cabin. He turned to go another way, but suddenly a root rose out of the ground and grabbed his ankle. Only it wasn’t a root. It was a vine. It began to pull him to the cabin. He struggled, tried to pull away. More vines grabbed him and pulled him slowly to the cabin. He howled and tried to escape. But there was no escape. The vines wrapped around him and pulled him closer and closer. Finally he was at the door of the cabin, and she opened the door. She smiled at him and the vines melted away, but he could not move. “I’ve been expecting you,” she said in sweet voice. She stepped back, and he walked into her cabin, unable to stop. Somehow crossing the threshold into her cabin had transformed him from wolf to man. He led him by her hand to his bed. Her clothes vanished and she told him to lay down. He lay on the bed, and watched her become a being of fire. She was beautiful. Her hair, her breasts, her legs, all of her became flame. She climbed on top of him and he began to scream. The bed and his flesh were burning. And she laughed. “You’re a murderer! You’re a monster! You’re evil!” she screamed at him as he burned and burned and burned.<br><br>He awoke with a start. For a moment he thought he must be dreaming. He was in bed with the woman. She was next to him. Her arms held him. He remembered the root. What had she done to him? Had he done something to her? He pushed the furs away and looked at her. She was whole. She was breathing. But how had they ended up in bed together? She was still in her red dress, though it was damp. Had he done something?<br><br>He took her wrist to push her body away, but he stopped. She must have wanted this. She was curled up with him as if they were lovers. She must have done this. He pulled her hand to his chest. He leaned to her head and smelled her hair. He looked at her for a moment, and then touched his lips to her. He kissed her gently, feeling the softness of her lips against his. His hand moved to grasp her breast. He felt his stiff cock twitch and he pulled back from her.<br><br>He could not. She would be revolted. She would kill him on the spot. It had to be her illness. She must have been in delirium without knowing what she was really doing. That was the only explanation. Surely she would never knowingly lay with him.<br><br>He pulled back from her body. He slowly climbed away from the bed. He should try to find to the soap, he thought. He could use the snow. It would be cold, but he needed something to cool his flesh. He felt hot with lust. To take her body, to just rip away her dress and have his way... No, he had to resist. She would kill him eventually, but he had to let her do it on her terms, when she was well. He could not seem to walk away from the side of the bed, but he would not rape her. He would resist. His body visibly trembled as he fought to control himself.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>17-01-2012, 00:14:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rosalyn stirred slightly when he moved and shifted. His lips caressed hers, a sweet sigh escaped her breath. She whispered his name when he pulled away and frowned when the warmth left with him. She shivered but soon covered herself back up with the furs. Her hand laid delicately upon the bed where he was just laying. She nestled herself back into the pillows and sighed, this time it seemed as though she desired the man to return. <br><br>As the smoke continued to clear, she shifted more, uncomfortable in her own skin. Her eyes began to crack open, her head pounding as the firelight illuminated the room. She covered her eyes in irritation and tried to sit up. <br><br>"Tis in Hell, I am." She muttered, her voice finally returning in tone. She cleared her throat a few times and was happy to hear her own words once more. She was wet and she desperately needed to change her gown, could she rise long enough to care for herself. She dare not tempt poor Wulfric with such a task. She began to slid from the bed and lifted her hair off of her neck. The breeze cooled her hot skin and she carefully rose from the bed back to her closets. She stripped herself completely bare and dried herself with a dried linen.<br><br>Slipping on a new shift and gown, this one was of a light pink, she grabbed a set of new sheets and moved to remove the old. Stripping the bed, which was easier to do since it was not made, she battled a dizzy spell and attempted to replace them. She knew that Wulfric would more than likely need food but her body was having a hard time cooperating. <br><br>"How are you feeling? I did not mean to leave you without warning on the roots. I have not been able to fully function, including speaking, to aid you." She smoothed the sheets out and sat on the edge of the bed still rubbing her temples. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>17-01-2012, 06:16:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Not that he needed more confirmation of her feelings, but as she woke, he heard her mumble that she was in hell. The fact that she was awake and moving seemed to break his inability to move. He forcibly stepped away from her. He forgot about the soap and went to stand by the fire. Feeling the heat of the fire gave him a sensation on which to focus his attention. As long as he was focused on the fire, he was not thinking too much about her body.<br><br>He heard her moving and left her alone. Finally she spoke to him. She asked how he was feeling. He stiffened to stop himself from turning to her and shouting.<br><br>“I know what you’re going to do." he said with a growl in his voice. "Not the details, of course. But I know you’re going to kill me. I’ve threatened to rape you, to take your virtue, as they used to say. So I don’t blame you. If you knew me, you’d know I deserve it. I want you to know I’m not going to fight you. Whatever you’re planning, I won’t fight you. It’s really the only possible outcome. You have to kill me. I am not far from losing my control over my lust. I thought I could hold out longer, but I am not as strong as I thought.” He huffed. “Not surprising really. I’m only a beast. I will take consolation in the fact that you can use my death to restore yourself to your society. You can be the one who saved them from a monster. In that, I will have repaid a small amount of the kindness you showed to me. I...”<br><br>He shook his head. He still had not turned to look at her. He was not sure what would happen if he looked her. He wanted to look at her, to go to her and pin her to the floor and roughly force his cock inside her. His body still trembled with the effort to restrain himself.<br><br>“I thought I could be what I am not. But I cannot. I am what I have always been. A monster.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>17-01-2012, 19:05:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rosalyn heard his words and her heart ached. He seemed sure she would end his life once he made a move to attack. Her faced frowned and her eyes reflected the sympathy she felt towards him. She allowed him to finish his words but she wanted to negate all that he spoke to her. <br><br>"I do not plan on killing you, no matter what happens. You have warned me about your nature and if you do leave, I will leave food out for you every night. I wish I could have made it to my father's home but the weather would not permit it. I will not mention a word to anyone about your existence, it is your right to have the secrecy."<br><br>"You hate your nature, you fight it and yet you show more power in your control. If I would have surrendered to you, you would have finished me into a state of satisfaction. I have never cared the the male gender, until I met you. There is something between us, something primal I wanted to explore."<br><br>She took a few tentative steps closer towards him and the fire. "I will not have a husband or birth a child I longed for. I do not need pretty words or a ceremony to give myself to a man. I have decided that he needs to be stronger and desirable, two things you have. I want you to stay, to take me in your primal way and make me feel like a woman should. I will never have any regrets unless you choose to leave." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>17-01-2012, 20:01:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He almost scoffed when she said she had no plan to kill him. He listened to her, preparing to turn on her and berate her for not simply killing him then and there. But she spoke of “something primal” that she said she wanted to explore. No, he thought, she cannot mean what she says. He began to turn towards her as she continued to talking. When she said she wanted him to take her, he staggered backwards. It was as if she had struck a blow to his chest.<br><br>His already crumbling resolve now shattered. It fell to the ground in great shards that melted away. For the briefest of instants, he looked over the woman’s body, seductively covered by her pink gown. Sweet fruit and warm honey filled his senses. His muscled form and hard face expressed only lust for the woman before him. His cock began to throb, and he grinned like a madman.<br><br>In the blink of an eye, he was standing before her and ripping her clothing from her body. His motions were swift and smooth. His hands, however, were rough. He ran one hand over her chest and down to her crotch as he growled and grabbed a huge handful of her hair. He stroked her vaginal lips as he pulled her by her hair to the floor. He grabbed her wrists in his large hand and pinned them the floor above her head. His free hand slid over her left breast before he squeezed it. He used his knees to shove her legs apart. His hard cock brushed against her abdomen as he brought his erection into place.<br><br>The head of his cock rested against the warm outer folds of her sex. He stared down at the woman. He wondered for a moment if she thought he was going to be kind. He hesitated deliberately. He wanted her to anticipate what was to follow. He wanted to see if she truly yearned for what he was about to do.<br><br>“You were made for this,” he growled. And then he pinched her nipple just before he shoved his cock deep into her. His hips pressed hers and he held himself there to savor the sensation of her cunt at last enveloping his throbbing cock.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>18-01-2012, 04:58:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She knew the moment his control had snapped. Her breathing became less labored and his eyes held something in them that she had seen him battle, desire. He unleased himself upon her in a matter of seconds, his hands ripping her gown and chemise off of her skin. The air hit her nude body and she shivered but his hot hands were quick to caress her body. His hands were hasty and roush, pawing at her naked breasts and tugging on her hair. She felt the pull as she was pinned to the ground, her hands were held in one of his as he used the other to run over her body.<br><br>The moment his hands hit her tightened nipples she gasped, she wanted his mouth sucking on them. Her body arched to his touch, begging for his mouth to devour her. He did not oblige. The wild look in his eyes remained as he teased the peek until she cried out in pleasure from it, the sensation continued to build. Her eyes began to close as she allowed her body to both grow accustom to the pain of desire. Rosalyn could scarcely make the words form for him to give her more. <br><br>Was this why women proffered their virtue to men of his caliber? He was pure animal in that moment and she could see it would be hard for her to let him go. She knew this was going to be one interlude of many and her body clenched in anticipation. Her hands pawed at her womanhood next, rubbing and coaxing little grunt of joy from her supple lips. She felt her core ripple and she gasped as her new experience was rippled out of her body. Her strained against his hand, wishing to be able to touch him but he did not yield. <br><br>He rubbed his heavy erection over her abdomen, her euphoric state soon to be shatter in an instant. The claiming would be harsh but she needed to she was properly prepared for it, but it never came. Though his body was massive in his masculinity, he did not hurt her virginal sheet. She moaned instead, eagerly moving her hips for him to continue. Her voice seemed to be dry, as if she had thirsted for a drink with no luck of being near water. <br><br>"More, I wish for more of you,." Rosalyn murmured over and over as she felt the frustration of her pressure building once more. She needed him to finished what he started, to feel the friction, the delicious friction the women boasted about. Tis rob a woman of speech if he is a skilled lover, the words of her servants echoed in her mind in that moment. She was nearly speechless as it was and yet he would make her more keen on losing her mind. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>18-01-2012, 20:47:36</strong>
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				A small voice at the back of his mind accused him being a beast and a monster. <em>You are filthy and vile</em>, said the voice, <em>an evil fiend</em>.<br><br><em>Yes</em>, he thought in reply,<em> I am. I cannot be else</em>.<br><br>In the moment that he held his cock inside her flesh, he felt the woman push up to him. She wanted this. Her body was begging for it. He greedily obliged.<br><br>He pulled his cock back until only the head remained inside her, and then he slammed his cock forward again. The woman was deliciously tight and wet. He could feel her taut flesh gripping his cock each time he pushed into her. He grunted and growled with feral lust as he fucked her. His cock throbbed almost painfully, and he responded by shoving his cock forward to fill her cunt over and over.<br><br>His one hand holding her wrists to the floor was replaced by both of his hands holding her forearms to the floor. He stared down at her, his own face an expression of need and lust. He had been holding his torso above her, but now he lowered himself. The motion of his body fucking her made his chest rub against her breasts. He lowered his head to hers and kissed her mouth. He pressed his lips hard to hers and shoved his tongue to her mouth. It was a feral kiss full of demanding passion. He moaned into the kiss. She tasted like salt and magic, and like honey had known in his childhood.<br><br>This was the first time in a long while that he had known a woman in this carnal manner. Pent up need that had been aggravated by the temptation the woman had posed seemed to compel him to fuck the woman hard and fast. Yet there was no release. He was almost angry as he fucked the woman. His lust was hungry. His bestial nature did not like denial, and now it seemed to rage.<br><br>He began to feel the slow build of pressure in his loins. It was mild at first,&nbsp; but it gradually became more intense. His hips were already slamming against hers with every thrust forward. He broke the kiss at last and growled loudly. He looked down at her beautiful face. He looked at her with unbridled lust. He kissed her mouth briefly once more. His body arched a bit as he tried to shove his cock as deep into her as possible. He mouth found her her neck and abused it. His teeth threatened but never broke the skin. Even so, he could feel the hot blood of her flesh on his warm, wet tongue as he bit and sucked hungrily on her skin. All while the pressure within him became almost painful.<br><br>Finally release came. He felt it in slow motion. He felt the surge of semen move through his cock even as he again shoved his erection deep into her. He felt the eruption of his hot cum inside her tight flesh and felt her spasming cunt squeeze him all the harder. Each sensation of thick fluid flowing through his cock and erupting inside her seemed like a fresh orgasm. His mouth had left her neck and was roaring in loud triumph. His body was bucking madly to her body. He was lost to feral orgasm, raw, intense and hard.<br><br>He had no idea how much time passed until his climax finally began to diminish. He stopped bucking and held himself deep inside as his body trembled with ecstasy. At last, his cum seemed depleted and he found himself panting and covered in sweat and staring down at the woman. Reluctantly he pulled his cock from her sex. He let go of her arms and stood up. He straddled her chest and looked down at her. Juices from her cunt coated his cock, and a drop those juices fell to splatter on her chest.<br><br>He smiled a lustful smile and walked to the pantry. He needed food.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>20-01-2012, 02:11:02</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The joining was both painful and beautiful. <br><br>She writhed beneath him watching him lose himself in the moment. His hips pumped wildly and she&nbsp; could only try and eagerly meet his thrusts. His release rocked her body, gripping Wulfric as her own came once more. he satisfied ehr and yet there was something missing. He was so animalistic that he forgot who he was as a man. He had surrendered to the wolf that all he seemed to want was both a warm body to sate his lusts and hot food to fill his stomach. She was a means to fulfill both. He left her, cold on the floor without a care and went to her pantry for food. <br><br>Tears threatened to fall but she rose, shoulder squared back. Rosalyn moved to her water basin to clean herself up. Both blood and secretion of both Wulfric and herself stained the linen as she levitated it to the fire and watched it burn. Blinking, she slipped on her robe, moving carefully to cater her sore body. Muscles she did not know existed ached both wonderfully and stiff as she moved to the fire. Her dangerous vulnerability were those flames. Her weakness was staring into the flames, learning from their flickering taunts. <br><br>Her mother spoke of such cautious fears, <em>"Be wary of the flames, my darling Rose. They hold your power and your weakness. They can teach you wondrous natures or enthrall you for eternity."</em> Her mother had been lost to such magics only a week later and died when she was nearly twelve summers. Even now, she was tempted to lose herself into the light and see if there was anything she could do to help her new companion. <br><br>She took only a simple fur from the bed and walked to the cushions beside the fire. She closed her eyes and whispered an incantation before they popped open. Her pupils were flooded with black, like mirror reflecting the light. Rosalyn was very quiet as the spells were flowed into her mind for hours. She broke the contact when she found the answer. She rose and slipped into her pantry quietly and mixed the herbs and waved her hand over the concotion to lose the taste. Mixing it into the meats and wines, she soon grabed some fruit and bread and settled herself on the bed and watched the wolf-man. <br><br>The herbs were harmless really, to help lessen the compulsion of his urges. It would not help that he was a man who was attracted to a woman, but it would help his conscious mind see that some things could be controlled and others could be used like logic.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>20-01-2012, 05:46:13</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				He paid little attention to the woman as he gathered some food in the pantry. He grabbed a handful of dried fruit and a handful of dried meat. He also chose a loaf of bread. He carried the food into the kitchen and put it on the counter. He found a bowl and pumped water from the well into it. He stood at the counter and ate. He tore hunks of bread from the loaf and ate as if he were starving.<br><br>He certainly felt extremely hungry. Some how the sex and no longer trying to restrain his impulses had left him with a deep appetite. In ten minutes time, he had consumed the meat and fruit and the entire loaf of bread and three bowls of water. He had seen the woman move to the fire. He wondered briefly what she was thinking. He wondered if the food she had would be enough. The cabin was well stocked, but it was meant to sustain one person through winter, not two. He might have try to find some food outside, but that would be very difficult in the snow.<br><br>He watched the woman walk to her pantries as he drank more water. Other than to lustfully admire her body as she moved, he gave little thought to what she might be doing. She walked to the bed with her food, and he watched her once more, unabashed in his lustful examination of her form.<br><br>“I am curious, woman,” he said from the kitchen, “what you think now that you have experienced a lycanthrope’s feral lust first hand.” His voice carried more authority now. He spoke as one who expected she would tell him anything he asked. “But as bad as I must have smelled before, I must stink by now. So before you address my curiosity, find me the soap you mentioned and some cloth so I can wash finally. A monster and beast I may be, but I’ll try not to stink up your cabin with werewolf sweat.”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>20-01-2012, 07:24:02</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				She rose from the bed after nibbling on a few pieces of fruit and bread. He was an arrogant bastard about what happened and as much as she enjoyed it, she wished it would not have happened until she was more strong. The magic had taken their toll upon her still healing form. Their lovemaking had been cataclysmic but at what cost had been paid. Her maidenhead was now claimed, no man would ever wed her, though she scarcely doubt any man could compare to such a virile man. <br><br>"I have a name, I bid you to use it. Or did you scarcely forget it once you claimed what you have battled for. I will not indulge your ego with my words. Draw upon your own conclusions upon how it went." Rose had replied coldly to him, still hurting for his lack of caring. She tossed him the soap and linens and clothing. "I spoke to you where the water and tub was before, I shall be sleeping otherwise." She stated as she moved towards the bed and curling herself under the covers. The tears fell quickly and lulled her into sleep without much more with the werewolf. <br><br>An hour later fear choked her into a wakeful state. She did not ward herself against conception. She had been fearful of such thoughts since she began her isolation in the woods. Some huntsmen coming in and deflowering her before she defended herself. Having to raise a child who would be persecuted, never knowing a peaceful life. She sat up, holding her stomach but she tried to chase those fears from her thoughts. Tis one time, she amended. She knew it would be repeated but the frequency she hoped would lessen. <br><br>She stretched and looked about the cottage. Once she was well, it would need a decent straightening up, many things were out of sorts and she hated the disorder. Would she risk her small amount on magic over a trivial task. She feared she would need it for fending off the werewolf's feral attentions. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>20-01-2012, 21:06:55</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				“So you called down the fire from the mountain,” he said when she had finished speaking, “and now you’re upset because it was hot and violent?” He grunted derisively.<br><br>Obviously she was hurt by something. She accused him of having forgotten her name. And she accused him of having gotten something he had “battled for.” He wondered how she had forgotten that he had battled to prevent giving in to his wolfish nature. She had asked him to take her, and now she was ungrateful.<br><br>Or she seemed ungrateful. He wondered what truly bothered her. She was a woman how had lived alone, and who had come from the high society of her culture. She had no doubt imagined her sexual experience would be different. Perhaps she thought it would be with some man who would do nothing but coax her to gentle sex. Perhaps she thought there would be courting first and then romance and then love.<br><br>Of course. Something like that had to be at the heart of the problem. Not that she loved him, for who could love him? But she wanted a man to love her. And he had not done that. He had fucked her not like a lover but like an angry beast. But he had warned her. It was not as if she had not been told what would happen.<br><br>Perhaps she felt he had disregarded her desires. Well, he had. He could not deny that. He looked around at the cabin. If he was going to remain here and have her willing to be fucked again, he was going to need to learn more about her and what she desired. He would have to show her the sensual side to his lustful nature. But would that even matter? If she hated him now, he doubted any amount of seduction would suffice.<br><br>He turned his thoughts to more immediate matters. He needed to wash. He took the soap and cloth for washing she had thrown at him, and disregarded the clothing. Her father’s clothing was an ill fit and felt uncomfortable to his skin. He went to the tub and looked at it. He saw no way to efficiently wash himself in it. The tub was made for her body, not his. He went to the front door of the cabin and pushed his way through snow. Apparently there had been more snowfall. He could find no sign of the tracks he had made when he had brought the woman back to the cabin. He was shivering soon enough, standing naked in the cold.<br><br>He melted a little snow in his hands with his body heat and by blowing warm breath on it. He got the soap wet and rubbed it over his flesh. The soap was scented to suit a woman’s senses, which he would have preferred not to coat himself with, but he had little choice. After spending some minutes getting a thin layer of lather on his skin he began to wipe the quickly frozen lather off with the cloth. The cloth had gotten wet in the snow, and so he did his best to use ice cold water to rinse freezing soap off his skin. It was invigorating and almost enjoyable.<br><br>He thought about how if had he truly wanted to stop himself from taking the woman sexually, he could have simply stepped outside the cabin. It might have chilled his physical arousal. But he had not done that. Instead he had fucked the woman. And she seemed to hate him for it. Not that he blamed her.<br><br>He walked back into the cabin and closed the door. She could not help but hate him, his train of thought continued. He had taken a thing from her that could not be replaced. He had made her first sexual experience one of bestial lust. She had asked him to take her, but clearly even after all his warnings, she had not expected what he had done. He would have to see if he could appeal to her sensual desires. Perhaps then, even though she hated him, she would not use her magic to repel him. Or maybe she would simply reject him, and change her mind about him staying. Or about not killing him.<br><br>He stepped over to the fire to warm up. He sat down and set the soap and the cloths down beside him. He stared into the flames. He had been harsh with her. Perhaps she saw now what a vile creature he was. Would she tell him to leave? If she did, would he go? Yes, he would. She had magic, and even though he was a lycanthrope, to fight her would be foolish. She could kill him. Not that he did not deserve death. But for some reason now he felt he would rather not die. And he questioned whether letting her kill would be wise. She had not been born to it as he had.<br><br>He sighed. He felt like he needed sleep. But he was not sleepy. He stood and walked toward the pantry. He noticed that the woman seemed to be asleep on her bed. He wondered if she was well yet. He walked into the pantry and rummaged about. He found a bottle of wine. He would have preferred whiskey or rum, but wine would do. He took the bottle back to the fire. He sat down once more and opened the bottle. It was a red wine that smelled of mushrooms. He swallowed several ounces of it and stared into the fire again. Gradually the flames began to dance in strange ways. He felt calm and relaxed. He drank more of the wine. His mind felt heavy. <em>What a strange thing</em>, he thought, <em>to have a heavy mind</em>. He swallowed more wine and then lay down. As he set the bottle down, he had consumed more than half of the wine. His body warmed and his flesh began to glisten with perspiration. The flames danced and twirled and made patterns that seemed deeply profound. Despite his desire to keep watching the flames he closed his eyes and fell into a drug induced sleep.<br><br>He dreamed again of the woman as a being of flame. She danced for him. It was a sensual dance of temptation. Her orange and yellow flesh of flame writhed and undulated to a slow, unheard rhythm. “Come to me,” she whispered over and over. “Come to me, and let me show you pleasure.” She slid her hands over her breasts and played with yellow nipples. Her hands slid over her torso and rubbed her fiery crotch slowly as she moaned and sighed. “Come and I will show you secret of the universe. Come to me and be my lover.” “You will burn me,” he said. “Yes,” she replied, “I will consume your flesh and you will feel the ultimate agony.” “Why?” “Because you are already consumed. You are nothing but a beast. Your life is consumed by lust and hate. And now you have made me hate you. All you had to do was control yourself, and I might have loved you. I might have taken you as my mate. We could have lived here in happiness. But you could not control your evil passions. You are consumed. So come to me. Let me kiss you with fire. Let me have your cock inside my flames, and you will burn. You will burn as you ought to burn. I will watch you burn and be satisfied in your agony. Do not try to resist me. You know you deserve to burn. No matter how hard you try to resist me, you will come to me eventually. It is inevitable. You cannot resist me. My hate is stronger than your will to survive. And to burn in fire is your destiny. You are a monster. You are evil. And you will die.” She stepped forward, and he tried to back up, but he suddenly seemed to be against a wall. He moved to the right and then to the left. But walls blocked him in. The woman of fire drew closer. She embraced him and her flames engulfed him.<br><br>With a cry of agony he awoke. He still felt as if his head had been stuffed with cotton. He body was covered in sweat. He wondered why his mind felt so sluggish. Usually he could metabolize alcohol easily. Witchcraft! She had done something to the wine. But he was awake. He was alive. What had she done. Why?<br><br>“W...” He tried to talk, but his tongue felt as if it had been wrapped in wool. “Wh... What... hafff... What have you done?” The words were a whisper. He wondered if she was even awake to hear him. Was this it? Was she going to kill him? Would she push him into the fire or simply produce flames from her hands and burn him alive? “Inevitable,” he whispered. “You had to hate me. I have to die. I am evil. I am a monster.” His muscles felt sluggish. He could move but only in slow motion. “I am evil.” He wanted to stand, but his body seemed to lack the strength. His whisper began to give way to his normal speaking volume. “You should hate me. Lucienne... Lucienne is dead because of me. My friends... dead. And now, I have raped you. You did not know what you asked for. But I did. And I fucked you anyway. Hate me. I deserve your hate.” His voice was full of his sadness and self-loathing. His senses felt dull and twisted. He could not trust them any more. Was the woman near or far away? “Do it. What are you waiting for? Kill me! I am evil.”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>22-01-2012, 06:18:31</strong>
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				Rose panicked the instant she realized what had truly awakened her. It was Wulfric in a mild maniac state. He was rambling, like a madman and she immediately rose. Lightheaded but fearful for her life, she cautious approached the back door. He spoke of her hating him and that she sould end them right then and there. He called himself evil, for her to finish him. He began to yell it even. She noticed the bottle of wine beside him and saw how much he had consumed. He was having an adverse effect to the the herbs she had mixed into his drink and food. <br><br>"I am not to kill you. Ease yourself. You are frightening with these words. You do not know me well enough but would I save your life and offer you shelter if I wished you dead?" Rosalyn tried to remain logical but she continued to back towards the back door. "Tis a bad dream and a potion that I gave you that caused this reaction. It was meant to calm your urges not make you wish for death. I do not hate you, far from it. I hated how you left me on the floor, like I was lower than dirt." Her voice grew all the more softer and she was now passing the kitchen and her hand was on the knob of the door. If he lunged for her, she would leave.<br><br>Her conscience would not last if she hurt this man. He was paranoid and it was her doing, the guilt was weighing upon her. Her eyes remained wide, like a frightened doe in the woods catching a glimpse of a predator. "Wulfric, I should not have tried to help you without your consent but I was hurt and acted rashly. Tis my deepest sorrow and grievous against you." Her eyes looked down in shame. <br><br>"I have no regrets but I did not imagine it to be so primal and so emotionless. I gave you something I can never have again but I offered it, hoping to ease your pain. I hated to see you suffer more than you did and I had hoped if you had me, we could get past the desires that raged between us." Her dreams of love were dashed in their joining. <br><br>"I cannot keep trying to convince you that I am not to harm you. I just cannot..." Her eyes welled with tears as she flung the door open and ran into the snow-filled night, barefoot and heart broken. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>22-01-2012, 19:38:45</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				He could smell the panic, but he could not trust it. His senses had been twisted by the witch’s magic. Perhaps it was a ploy, like the taunting words she spoke. Would she save his life and offer him shelter if she wanted him dead? Yes, if her goal was to torture him before she killed him. A bad dream she said. It had been a dream of her. She knew. She must have done something to make him dream of her killing him. She was a torturess. She was toying with him, using her magic to manipulate him.<br><br>Perhaps she was of those who believed werewolves were so base that humans were superior creatures. And so would she have decided to tease him with false innocence and extraordinary beauty, to drive him mad, and now she was drugging him to further destroy his mind while she continued to protest that she was innocent and kind. He was to be her entertainment for the winter. No doubt the stories she had told of her family were lies. He had been a fool to believe her. She likely would soon be entertaining many family friends with her tales of playing with the werewolf and how she had manipulated him.<br><br>The witch blathered more nonsense about being left on the floor as if she were dirt. As she were not fully aware that had he remained with her body she would have suffered physical harm. He would have bit into her flesh and marked her. He would roughly abused and bruised her. She knew that. She was merely protesting to continue her facade of innocence.<br><br>Then the woman opened a door and ran into the snow. More manipulation! She must have thought he would chase after her and bring her back and have sympathy for her.<br><br>He stared at the open door. He was not a dog to be played with. He was not a mouse to her cat. He forced himself to focus. He began to transform. It was slower than normal. The witch’s magic made focusing his mind extremely difficult. But he completed his transformation to wolf form. He sprinted out the door and followed her tracks in the snow. How dare she treat him as an inferior! She might still kill him, but she would remember the day she had pissed off a lycanthrope!<br><br>When he drew close to her, he made no effort to hide himself. He growled and ran and leaped to pounce on her, intending to knock her to the snow covered ground.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>23-01-2012, 00:06:59</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Her legs were heavy but she ran deep within the snow until she heard a growl behind her. He had followed her from the cottage. She screamed as he tripped and he was upon her. She wanted to be let free from him. He had lost his mind, accusing her of wishes of killing him. She never wanted to hurt a living soul and he had no idea what he spoke of. He was not well and all her efforts to help him were moot in that situation. Rose wished to save his savage mind but instead, she thought she destroyed him. <br><br>She felt the hot breath of her oredator as she rolled to face the beast. She was cryong pleading with him to leave her be. She wished to be free from him but there was no use. He wanted her to finish him or punish her for something she never wanted to act. Could she finish him if she needed to defend herself from death? Deep down, she knew that he would drag her back to that cottage and defile her once more. <br><br>"Please, see reason. I do not wish your death. I would never hurt you and above allt hings I have down, why do you torture me now? I have been nothing but kind to you and I gave you my body. Do not hurt me, I beg of you." She cried out to him as loud as could, hoping her words were not caught in the wind. Her tears were freezing as they fell from her face. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>23-01-2012, 19:55:25</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				At last, his body seemed to have discovered how to overcome the magic the witch had put into the wine. He felt his senses become less confused. And one thing became dramatically clear, the woman was desperately afraid.<br><br>He stared down at her. She was in the snow, wearing hardly anything. She was crying. She was afraid. But she was not fighting back. Why?<br><br>Was this more deception? Could he trust her? Was she the one he should distrust? Or was he going mad?<br><br>He walked away from her. There was no other explanation except that he was finally going mad. He forced himself to transform. He concentrated on changing as swiftly as he was able. Soon he was a naked man sitting in the snow.<br><br>“Please, Rosalyn, you have to kill me,” he pleaded. “I am going mad. I am losing my mind. And if I lose all my control, I will do only evil things, for I am evil at my core.” He looked down at the ground, no longer able to look at her. Sadness filled his voice. “I don’t deserve to be alive. I am sorry I came into your life. You are beautiful, Rosalyn, and innocent and kind, and all that I have done for you is to bring you trouble and pain.” He slammed his fist down on his thigh. “And I can only bring you more. I am evil, and evil is all I can accomplish.” The sadness in his voice was joined with despair. “I am sorry, Rosalyn, that I raped you. I am monster. I am the devil’s child. There is no salvation for me. I am evil.<br><br>“Please, Rosalyn, please, just kill me now. Please.”<br><br>Even as he spoke the words, he felt the desire to have her body right there in the snow. His flesh was hot as his body worked to rid itself of the drug that had been in the wine, and the snow around him was melting. He wanted to touch her flesh. He wanted to hold her. But did not. He remained sitting, staring at the snow covered ground, hot tears falling down his cheeks.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>24-01-2012, 20:34:16</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				He removed herself from him and she scrambled back in the snow. He was battling himself and his urges. He was human once more and she listened to his more coherent words. He spoke of himself being evil but he was not. He did not rape her but he was far from gentle. She hated him, but never to end his life. She sympathized with plight of control but her hate was by his behaviors not his true being. <br><br>Rosalyn shook her head and cried out. "No! I will not kill you. I want nothing to to do with your murder! I wish for you to rid yourself of such a beast and control the man inside of you." She bellowed out as she rubbed her hands together to try and get warm. She could not conjure a fire in fear of his fight or flight response. "You are not a monster, you are a man who us cursed to hold the body of one. There is a salvation for you, tis you who has to seek and find one! Salvation is something you must work on and prove. You deem yourself unworthy of something you have not tried to earn." Rosalyn as she was shivering but he was melting snow around him. <br><br>"We need to get inside before we lose the cottage and the snow becomes to hard to walk in." Every inch of her felt frozen as she reached her hand to his, offering to help him rise. "I would never kill you Wulfric. You do not trust me enough to know that. I only good wishes for you." She stated gently that time, hoping he would take her hand in his. <br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>25-01-2012, 07:23:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He looked at her hand for a moment. And then let out a bestial wail.<br><br>The thing that broke his heart was not her refusal to kill him. Or that she dared accuse him of not trying to earn redemption. Or that despite his evil nature that she still wanted to try to help him. What broke his heart was the fact that she hated him. He had expected it, of course, but he could see it so clearly now, in her body language and her scent and the sound of her voice. She hated him. And he felt as if his heart were about to rip in two.<br><br>He wished it would. Then he would die, and his suffering would end. As soon as he had that thought, he knew it was selfish and evil. The dream had been right. He was consumed by evil. He was a monster. And she hated him.<br><br>He shook his head as he stood up without taking her hand. “I cannot touch you. Never again.” His voice was full of despair. “Go on. I will follow you back to the cabin.” The hint of pain underlined each word. “You should be inside where you can be warm. I will come with you, but I will not touch you.”<br><br>He felt weak from battling the effects of the drug, but he stool still. He would not let her see that he was weak. She would want to do something for him, and he could not let her.<br><br>He felt a deep tearing pain in his chest, but he refused to wince. He showed no sign of his pain or his weakness. He deserved his pain, just as he deserved her hate. He had misjudged her. She did mean him well, even as she hated him. She hated what he was. She had judged him and found him callous and selfish and immoral. And she was correct. He was evil. He would do her no more harm. He would give her no cause to fear him or to pity him. So he hid the intense pain. Only he could not stop the emptiness in his eyes that betrayed the deep hurt and self-loathing he felt. Or the tone of his voice that revealed his deep despair.<br><br>“I will not touch you or bother you again in any way. I will do what I can to make sure you are well by the time spring arrives and do nothing else. You have my solemn word. And I will be gone before your maid comes back. No one will have to know what I have done.”<br><br>He found he could no longer look at her. She was too much for his soul. She was too bright and he too dark. If he looked at her, he would feel his pain too acutely to hide it.<br><br>He stared at the snow around his feet while he waited for her to lead the way back to the cabin.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>25-01-2012, 08:06:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rose was hurt again for the secind time by him that day.<br><br>She felt the remorse and regret in her quick words of hate to him She should have explained more but she lacked the strength to argue much more with him. He would not touch her, he would see to her healings but that was all. He promised he would not near her no matter how much she may wish it. Once the arrived to the cabin door she swung to face him. <br><br>"You did not understand my words did you? I hate what you did to me, leaving me on the floor and scarcely speaking to me after. You have every right to be angered with me for trying to help with the herbs but you have no right to ignore me all winter. You wish not to bother me or touch me but I am not the only one in this cottage. What if I conceived a child Wulfric? How will that be kept a secret come Spring."<br><br>She went towards the fire and allowed the flames to thaw out her frozen body. Her lips were still tinged blue but they slowly returned to their normal reddened color. "So you not to look at me while we sit in this cabin? I am to pretend you are not here?" She moved from the fire and collected the diahes and bottles from the table and ground. With a wave of her hand, the rooms were more organized and cleaned to its proper shine. She wished she would use her other rooms, but the fire woult not warmth them. She closed them off for the winters for a reason. <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>26-01-2012, 02:09:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was as they marched through the snow that the effect of the drug he had imbibed finally seemed to wear off. His senses seemed to be sharp again and his head stopped feeling like it was stuffed with cotton. Whatever the woman had put into the wine was unpleasant. He did not like it. How had it escaped his notice in the first place, he wondered. The woman must have done something to the drug to hide it from him.<br><br>He shook off the remnants of the false thoughts that the drug had induced. He silently cursed for letting the drug make him into a weeping fool. So as the woman turned to confront him, he was not quite the same man who had promised not to touch her. He was also not inclined to be yelled at by her.<br><br>He stood by the door as the woman huffed and released her anger. He watched her move, and thought she would make an imperious queen if she ever gained an ambition to power.<br><br>“Rosalyn,” he said deliberately and with some anger, “you are keen to mention how I don’t know you. Yet you accuse me of not trying to find redemption and now you’re accusing me of not understanding your words. And what questions have you asked me of who I am? What questions have you asked of my past? You are innocent and kind, but your arrogance is no less than mine. You think you know all about me because you know I am a lycanthrope. As if that is all you need know. So shut up and pay attention while I explain somethings to your naive mind.<br><br>“I have spent years trying to overcome this feral nature into which I was born. Before you were brought into the world, my kind were just as plentiful as yours. But there were wars between us. And in the last one, your kind prevailed. Only when that war ended, rather than peace between us, your kind began to hunt my kind. The leaders of your kind decided my kind had to be exterminated for the safety of your kind. So lycanthropes were massacred. For all I know, your ancestors killed mine.<br><br>“Eventually, there were only a few of us left. We scattered ourselves to the far edges of the world. I know not how those others have fared or even if they are still alive. I have tried to live as you live. And any time I let myself slip, I was hunted and called a beast and a monster and an evil thing. And I am indeed all these things. I am a beast. I am a werewolf. I am a monster. And I am evil for I live with lusts and desires that your society shuns. When I want food I go kill it. When a shepherd leaves his flock too unprotected, and I am hungry, I will not hesitate to steal and kill a sheep. I have seduced wives. I have used stealth to kill those who would kill me. I survive. I feed my desires.<br><br>“In recent years, I thought that I would try to learn to restrain my wolf side. I thought that in this way I could become merely a man and somehow be redeemed from state as an evil monster. I thought this because I had become lonely. I wanted to be among men, to be loved as once I had been when I was younger.<br><br>“I know I have mentioned Lucienne, and not once have you asked about her. When I was first trying to be only human, I met her. She was a beauty, but a peasant girl. She and her parents lived on a small, poor farm. I earned a bed a straw in the barn by helping them work it. In time, Lucienne and I fell in love. She was, like you, kind and generous. One day some wealthy travelers came by the farm, and one in particular decided he wanted to have Lucienne. Needless to say, he and I fought. And I got angry. And my lycanthropy revealed itself. I changed before them and charged at the man. The travelers retreated, but I had to leave the farm. I am a monster. And when I returned several nights later to see if Lucienne would talk to me, I found the place and the bodies of Lucienne and her family burned.<br><br>“So you see, I am evil. And I have tried to find redemption for my nature ever since. But I have none. I am a beast and will always be one.<br><br>“You say you hate that I fucked you and then left you on the floor. What did you expect? I am a lycanthrope! Did you expect I would be like some smarmy man from your society? Do you want me to pay attention to you? Do you really want a vile beast to watch your every move? Shall I surrender myself to be tempted by the way you look and move and breathe until I again find my desire for you too strong? Perhaps you think you will hold me off with your magic. Shall I become a puppet for you then, here at your pleasure and denied my own?<br><br>“Apparently you thought you could control my beast by drugging me. You did not ask me. I at least gave you warning of what I was and what I want to do to you. And your magic left me bereft of reason. Did you think you could change what I am? Did you think you could do in moments what I have not done in decades of effort? My wolf side is not a disease you can cut out. It is part of me. It is part of who I am.<br><br>“I have tried to respect you. Even when I gave into my desire and stole your virginity, I did so only because you gave permission. Though clearly you did not understand what you were giving permission for. And for that I am sorry. I should have known. I should have been stronger. But you have got to understand that I am not a stray dog you can feed and train. I am a lycanthrope.<br><br>“Would you let a dragon into your house and expect to never get burned? Would you let a cold blooded killed into your house and expect to not be attacked in your sleep? I am the dragon. I am the murderer. I am the evil monster you have let into your home. Only I don’t want to burn you or kill you. I want to have your body yield under mine as I use your flesh for pleasure. I might seduce you. Or I might take you as I did before.<br><br>“You spoke of a child. I know of no human woman who has ever allowed a child of a wolfman to take root in her womb. Nor should you. Why should one more monster be allowed into the world? I would not wish for my child to live as I must, hunted and destined to be thought of as an abomination.<br><br>“It is clear I am not welcome to remain here. Your food is corrupted. I have made you hate me. And for some reason you would find it offensive if I remained and tried to restrain myself from doing you any more harm. So I will leave you to your solitude. I am sure you have magics you can use to heal yourself.<br><br>“You have not left me unchanged. My heart even now breaks as I speak of leaving. Something about you reached deeper than my desire for sex with you. And I realize my desire to use you for sex makes hypocritical my criticism of you for treating me as a toy. This I cannot help. Just as I cannot help that any scent of honey will make my heart ache because it will remind me of you. The memory of you, of your body, your scent, your kindness and even your hatred will haunt me now. I will know that I had someone beautiful and made her hate me. Again.<br><br>“If you need any proof that I am evil, it rests in that. So bid me good riddance as I leave. Know you were the better person.”<br><br>He turned away from her. He hesitated a moment before walking to the door.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>26-01-2012, 04:14:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You call me arrogant? You think that I should sit her and twiddle my thumbs idly as you speak of things I have not had the chance to address. When was I to ask about this woman. When were we to speak of past histories. When I laid ill or when I toiled over healing you!" She hollered at him, her anger creeping from simmer to a slow boil. It took a lot to get her angry and she scarcely remembers what happens when her viosion clears from the flames consuming her. <br><br>"I knew nothing of you kind. I scarcely knew you even existed until you changed in front of me. Am I to feel forever changed. I knew nothing of your kind or your nature before you came into my life. I offered you my home regardless of who you are, what you are. I am not an evil person, I believe in giving people chances. I even decided to risk our lives for me to give you the cottage so you would not starve."<br><br>The story of the woman had her sitting on the edge of the bed as she took in the words. He lost a woman because of who he was. it all makes sense now, his nature. He wanted to repress who he was because he hungered for living within the realm of man, something she could sympathize with. "T-They were burned..." Her voiice trailed off as she tried to imagine the pain and the guilt that resided in him. How her flames must taunt him for what had happened to his love. "I did not know..." Again her voice seemed remorseful and quiet as she continued to absorb his words. <br><br>He spoke of a child, she snapped her head up and shook her head. "I am not as human as you think me to be." It was all she could say on the subject as she watched him move about the cabin. He spokke subjects she did not know how to approach. <br><br>"I wanted what you had. I wanted love. I placed herbs in the food, not understand that you consumed nearly three times the amount I would and sedated you. I can rid the food of that ingredient easily as I placed it in there. I was not thinking clearly as I wished to help calm your urges. It was untrustworthy of me to do and I will have to live with such guilt. I do not want a puppet as you do not want a toy. I only wished for love and I fear that I will never get it." She saw him move to the door as he spoke of her body and how she will haunt him. <br><br>"Stop damn you! Do you not understand that you are not evil? You did what you needed to do to survive. I have wanted and hoped in my little cottage for two years and yet you came in here and gsve me a reason to wake. But I will not beg you to stay as if I am under your control. If you wish to brave the snow and kill yourself, you are at the door. I have tried to keep you within my home and I still offer it."<br><br>"I never truly hated you as you think I did. If you chose to leave, know that you will always be in my heart and in my thoughts. I shall worry about what has become of you every night." Rosalyn spoke softly as she settled herself to sit back on the edge of the bed fighting the urge to cry. No tears, she spoke softly in her mind, I will not allow my tears to fall in front of him. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>27-01-2012, 04:55:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When the woman asked if they were supposed to have talked while she was ill or while she was tending to his injuries, he thought to himself, <em>Yes, that is exactly when you should have been asking questions</em>. But he said nothing in reply to her.<br><br>When she said she knew nothing of his kind, he huffed. Of course she did not. The humans would never speak of the things they had done to his kind. By now, lycanthropes were mere werewolves and monsters of children’s tales.<br><br>She spoke of love. To him. She could have any man, and she spoke of wanting love. She was naive and ignorant and foolish. No, he thought, she is a sheltered child. Her ignorance is not her fault. It was her parents’ fault. The woman had learned to be a witch and yet was never taught the ways of the world. He realized he felt some pity for her. Or was it compassion? Or something else?<br><br>But he had turned to go anyway, and he stopped before opening the door as she shouted at him. But her voice quickly turned soft. He could hear the lonely child in her voice. He could even hear what she meant even as she let her words dance around her emotional truth.<br><br>He stood for a moment with his back to her and his hand on the door. He turned and saw her trying not to cry. He had misjudged her completely. She was a lonely and scared little girl under all her womanly beauty. No wonder she had not understood what she had asked for when she had asked him to have sex with her. It was so obvious to him now. It explained so much about her actions. He should have seen it earlier.<br><br>He looked her over as she sat on the edge of the bed. He thought about touching her, and about fucking her. But he also thought about teaching her. Showing her how to be a woman. Showing her that she could have any man she wanted. Maybe he could help her. Maybe then, just maybe, he would find some tiny fraction of redemption for all the evil he had done in the world. And maybe he could enjoy the pleasure of her flesh a few more times before it was all over.<br><br>He did not think she would truly love him. It did not even occur to his mind. He would never conceive that anyone would love him. And he had no room in his heart for the notion that he could love her. He was evil. Evil things did not love. He was a monster. Monsters were never loved. So there was no thought that he might love her or that she might love him. And yet, he felt himself wanting to help her. He wanted her to smile. He wanted her to return to her father and her society as confident and self-assured as she was strong and beautiful. Then she would be happy. Why that should be important to him, he never wondered. He was too ignorant and too naive, in his own way, to have such a question enter his mind.<br><br>He sighed deeply, and walked over to her. He sat beside her on the bed and gently took her hand in his.<br><br>“Rosalyn,” he said softly, “you are a full grown woman beautiful enough to tempt even the most discriminating of men. But you are so young in here.” He touched her forehead with a finger. “And here.” His finger touched her chest just over her heart. “There is far more to you than even you realize. You could win the heart of kings, and yet you sit here in a cabin in the woods, speaking to a beast of wanting love. This is almost a tragedy.<br><br>“And who is it who has come to your door and invaded your life? A lycanthrope. The scourge of civilization. In your girlish optimism, you took him in, and you even tried to make him stay after he...” He shook his head at himself. He put his hand gently over her mouth to stop any reply she might have. “Hush. You are a beautiful woman and a little girl all in one. I wish I had seen that from the start. I should have. You should not have been left alone. The men of your society are fools for letting you go and leaving you alone here.”<br><br>He lifted his hand from her mouth and traced the shape her lips with his fingertips.<br><br>“I will stay for now. And when you go back to your family and your society, you will find you will have men willing to do anything for your attention. Men will strew themselves at your feet. And you’ll know how to pick the strong&nbsp; ones and the smart ones. And if you’re lucky, the ones who are both strong and smart. You will be able to choose your own life, and be able to refuse to have it chosen for you.”<br><br>His fingertips traced her cheeks and the shape of her nose. His fingers slid up and finally he felt her soft, red hair against his hand.<br><br>“Don’t talk, little one,” he said in a whisper. “Shhh. Don’t speak.” He stared into her ocean blue eyes for a moment. His hand buried deep in her hair pulled her head to his face as he leaned down to her. He kissed her mouth gently.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>28-01-2012, 03:34:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He sat beside her, wishing to speak with her. He was to stay, her mind leapt with joy following something that made her frown. He was to have her return to society but she shook her head. "I have no desire to return. I cannot return when I performed in front of the masses, I shall be hung upon sight." She wanted to explain more but his finger was to her lips, tracing the ruby petals. <br><br>He was right of course. In many ways she was still a little girl. She had no one to truly guide her into womanhood, no mother to teach her the rules. But he was to do this for her? He expected so much out of something he knew scarcely about. he thought her to be able to caught kings or lesser with her wiles. The thought was laughable but it was hard to attempt such a task when he was caressing her face. This was the gentleness she craved. <br><br>He had found her out, the loneliness in her plight. She wanted a companion desperately. Rosalyn craved the ;ove her family preached about. Her father was in love with her mother at first sight and she wanted the same. This man spoke of her being his redemption, returning the world a woman of value but she never felt that way. She wanted to agree with him but it would take time to fully understand what he wished of her. <br><br>His lips brushed against hers and her body trembled. The gentle kiss made her wish for more, this was what she wanted. His body was hot against her and she shifted a little closer. She needed to touch of his lips on hers. Her hands were tenative, hesitant to touch his hardened muscles. She had so many questions now, but this kiss had drugged her into his own magic. She gently pulled herself away and her eyes slifkered flames upom waking. <br><br>"I need to, to get rid of those herbs in the food." She pushed herself away from him and the bed as she scurried into the pantry. With a waves of her hand, the herbs shifted from all of the foods and levitated to a bowl. She waved a hand over the bowl and the flames ignited the concotion. She moved to the main room with the bowl in hand. <br><br>"I hope you will trust that all of the herbs out of the food with my foolish apologies. I should not have thought to control something I do not understand." She whispered shamefully as she sat at the little kitchen table. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>28-01-2012, 04:24:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He could sense the conflict between her desire and her reluctance. She was unsure still. Her flesh pressed gently to his torso for a moment, but then she retreated from him. She used removing the drug from the food as her excuse to avoid her sensual impulses.<br><br>He watched her walk and the way the fabric of her clothing moved over her flesh. He smelled the scent she left in the air. Sweet fruit and warm honey. His eyes followed her as she exited the pantry with bowl in hand.<br><br>When she whispered that she should not have tried to control something she did not understand, he smiled.<br><br>“Come here, Rosalyn,” he said in a low, soft tone. “Come sit with me.” He was still sitting on the edge of the bed. He was also still naked, and his lustful passions had been stirred by watching her. He was visibly aroused as he smiled at her, and he made no effort to disguise it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>28-01-2012, 05:01:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her eyes widened as he beckoned her to sit beside him. In that moment, she felt his wolfish nature penetrating the air. She shook her head as if the clear the foolish thoughts that began to rise from her mind. He was visibly aroused, his girth visible from her place across the room. Did he wish to place it back inside of her body? The pain and the roughness from earlier was burned into her flesh. Mating was one aspect of married she was happy not to have to indulge in if she were forced to feel the pain. <br><br>But there was that glimmer of pleasure that frightened her even now. That kiss was sweet and gentle, almost a whisper of something deeper inside of him. She wished for him to maintain more human qualities, like clothing and conversing. They had yelled at each other more often than talking. Even now, the night of her bringing him into her cottage was unclear. It seemed lifetimes' away. <br><br>"Are you trying to seduce me?" She asked quietly as she bit her lip. If he deemed it so, her body would be nothing but his. She knew a few more moments of that kiss and she would have been upon her back and panting like a wanton temptress. Something she was far from. He was going slowly, softly and she ran from him like a frightened doe to cater to some frivolous chore. "What are you to do to me if I return to that bed?" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>28-01-2012, 06:04:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Even now, he could see her struggling with her sense of propriety and her desire. She seemed half determined to resist and half ready to surrender.<br><br>“Of course I am trying to seduce you,” he said. “If you return to the bed, I will kiss your soft mouth. I will explore your hair and face and shoulders with my hands. I will whisper to you of how pleasurable you feel. I will slide my hands under your dress and feel the softness of your skin. I will do my best to stoke the heat of sexual desire inside you until you whisper that you want me to be gentle, but would I please slip inside you once more and show you how a lover makes a woman moan in pleasure. And then I will push my erection inside you and work to stoke your deep fires further until you are rocking yourself to my body like a wanton creature of lust. What happens after that, well, you will just have to come and see.”<br><br>He smiled warmly to her. He remained sitting still on the edge of the bed. He watched her eyes. He stared into the blue depths there and waited for her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>28-01-2012, 20:33:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I-I..." She was at a lost for words as he spoke to her about what he was planning to do to her in that bed. After her last experience she shook her head at moving towards him. He was being playful and his smile was alluring in itself. Could she allow him to use her body when he felt nothing for her? If she spoke of her concerns, would he change his words to declarations of love to feel her body against his? Every moment she felt as if her mind and her heart were in a constant battle with one another. She wanted to have someone to curl up with but he was only showing her desire. <br><br>"I do not think that would be such a good idea. I do not want to feel something for a person who will be gone within two months." Her eyes still flickered with desire but her opinions were still firm. "If you think a night inside of me will change what we do not know about each other? You are not looking for anything but desire but I am. I need to define a line with those two and I think I cannot do that if I... If I surrender to you now. I will not wish to let you go."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>29-01-2012, 00:03:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				“If I were devious, Rosalyn,” he said as he stood up, “I would do as the men of your society would do.” He stepped over to her and got down on one knee. “Which is to say, I would with facile grace declare love for you in smooth, poetic words of false romance.” He took her hand gently. “I would speak of evergreen love and a yearning heart and of how no one else on earth had or ever could make me feel so much love.” He kissed the back of her hand tenderly. “Indeed, if I so desired, I could outshine most of the men of your society in weaving a web of lies to ensnare your emotions and and your thoughts. I could possibly even convince you that the sex was entirely your idea.”<br><br>He stood and walked around to stand behind her. He leaned down to put his mouth near her ear.<br><br>“Would that ease your conscience?” he said softly. “To pretend love?” He lifted a handful of her hair to his face and inhaled the scent of it. “Don’t answer yet. Let me finish.”<br><br>“I am offering you something the men of your society will not.” He walked back around to stand in front of her. “I offer the truth. My desire for you is honest. I find your body delectable, and I want to taste it, to hold it and to do many sensual things to it. I want to feel your naked body writhing next to my own flesh as you whimper and squeal and moan under my touch. Yes, I want to lie with you on the bed or on the floor or on your table or even in the snow, and to have deeply pleasurable sexual intercourse with you.<br><br>“Will a night of hot sexual indulgence change what we do not know of each other? Yes, it will. What we will learn may not be intellectual or emotional, but can be profound if your mind is open to it. You accuse me of not looking for anything but desire. No so, my dear Rosalyn. I seek resonant pleasure and an intense intimacy. I seek an escape from the woeful weight of loneliness.<br><br>“Were I am man of your society, an hour or so of sex would be nothing and mean nothing. And you would be right to question me. But I am not a man of your society. I am hardly a man at all. I am a beast. A creature of sensual desires. I am offering to teach you about my desires and about your own. I offer the start of a journey that will educate you about the hot ache at the core of your being, and the truth it hides.”<br><br>He stood there, naked and aroused. His body was still and relaxed. His intense gaze was focused on her eyes. He held out his hand to her. <br><br>“I am not forcing you to do anything. I’m only ask you to choose. Do you want pretend love? Or shall I attempt to not touch you so as to avoid tempting the womanly desires that lurk with in you? Or shall we both be honest and know pleasure without lies?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>29-01-2012, 01:59:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He moved with all of the stealth of a predator, something that made her shiver. Was she the prey in his eyes? He was asking her to listen to him and sit as he explained the obvious options. He spun sweets words of bliss as he kissed her hand tenderly. He could drive any of the women she had once befriended mad with wanting. She saw him move and soon he was out of her sight and leaning behind her. He whispered in her ear, almost as if he were goading her into defying what society had already bred into her. <br><br>His goal was simple and plain; to bed her and show her how a woman is suppose to feel desires of the flesh. He would gain the peace he body demnaded of him and she would apparently enjoy it. He wanted her submission, to be upon her back and withering unto his touch. He was telling her of education, honest and blunt. He wanted her body and mind to be taught of the ways a womanhood. <br><br>The decision weighed heavily on her as she tried to decide what she wanted. Did she want the illusion of love, though he would never? Would she durrender her body to his will and deny her own morals? He wanted to show her the other more primal side of her nature, the side she feared. What if she became consumed by both his body and the dark magics that she kept at bay? She needed to see if her body would respond the way it briefly did. <br><br>"I have decided but I must ask something of you. Never allow me near the fire. I cannot get lost in those flames." She rose from her chair and bit her bottom lip as she ploaced her small hand into his. It was a huge step she was taking but she needed to take such steps if she were to truly get out of her shell. "I do not want illusions of false love nor lies battling between us. I just ask you to treat me with the respect a woman should have." Her heand led him back to the bed. She trembled like a leaf in the middle of the storm. The bed seeming all the more smaller than it was. <br><br>Her eyes looked into his as her pupils dilated to full size, covering the whites of her eyes. The flames were reflecting in the darkened eyes as she pulled his face to hers and her lips ascended his.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>29-01-2012, 05:44:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The woman told him not let her near the fire. She said she could not get lost in the flames. He guessed that the fire held some magical import for her powers as a witch. All power had a price, and perhaps the fire was a key to the price for hers.<br><br>He was already smiling as she stood up and took his hand. She spoke of treating her with the respect a woman should have. Even as she was agreeing to sex with him, she was clinging to her society’s ideas. It was a charming contradiction.<br><br>“Respect, little Rosalyn,” he said gently, “is something we will discuss later. Along with being careful about what you request. It will be your first... Mm, well, your second lesson.”<br><br>He watched her already trembling body walk toward the bed. Did she shake so from anticipation or fear?<br><br>He was mildly surprised when her eyes turned to black. The woman had been keeping secrets. He had guessed as much, but he had not guessed this would be one of them.<br><br>The woman who had protested only minutes ago was now pulling him into a kiss. He smiled and kissed her mouth gently. As he did so, he picked up her body and laid her down on the bed. He leaned over her, continuing the kiss as he moved to straddle her hips. He pulled back his head and smiled down at her.<br><br>“You are a thing of beauty. And you taste like the honey I knew as a child. Sweet, buttery and delicious.” The tip of his tongue slipped out to lick his lips as if he could still taste her there. His erect cock rested against her abdomen. His hands stayed on the bed for the moment. He lowered his head and began to plant light kisses on her neck.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>30-01-2012, 09:00:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her body arched into his touch as his lips glided down her neck. Quivering, Rose loosened the sash of her robe, her pale form entwining with his. Skin still cool to the touch, the jolt of heat from his skin made her moan in pleasure. Rosalyn did not know what she should fight, her inner witchling desires or her strict, polished society mandates. Why did his mouth have to feel so good upon her body? Why did he spoke of her tasting of honey? Such words only furthered her confusion as she eagerly wrapped her thighs around his waist. Her hips rocked devilishly as her hand sought his hardened flesh. <br><br>Guiding him into her body was something the shy Rose would never fathom. It was as if someone had taken over her body and she liked the results. Sucking in a hiss, she rubbed her heated core against his tip, urging him to bury himself deep into her body. It was highly arousing to have him in control but she was more eager to take the reigns. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>30-01-2012, 19:59:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The piousness of her protestations against giving in to him had swiftly given way to her now trying to get his hard erection inside her as quickly as possible. Her eagerness called to his darker and more bestial impulses, but he smiled as he pulled back from her warm crotch.<br><br>“All in good time, little one. All in good time.” He spoke softly as he sat up. He smiled down at her. He took her hands in his and kissed each of her fingertips. He brought her hands together, and gripped her wrists in one powerful but gentle grasp. His other hand pulled the sash from her robe and began to wrap it around her wrists. He tied the ends of the sash together into a tight knot. The binding was not tight, but it was snug enough to prevent her from slipping her hands from it. He slid his hands down along her arms to feel her soft skin.<br><br>He pushed her arms over her head and gently held them down with one arm. He made sure to slide his stiff cock over her crotch as he moved to lay beside her. His free hand began to slowly draw circles around the base of her breasts.<br><br>“Our previous sexual experience may have led you to think that I would simply fuck you and be done soon. But that is not the purpose of this moment. You will feel my hard penis invade your tight, warm vagina soon enough. But first, I want you to feel the desire for it grow within you. Feel the heat of your lust intensify slowly.”<br><br>The circles he traced began to move up the curve of her breasts. He was gradually leading his finger along her flesh up her breasts and toward her nipples. He continued to hold her arms out of the way. His own arm unyielding as it kept her arms over her head.<br><br>“You can feel the desire grow with every breath. There is a hot lust within your body and each moment of sensual pleasure calls to it. And with each breath your body feels the heat of it seep into every muscle.”<br><br>His finger slid slowly over the skin of her chest. Each circle traced was smaller and closer to her nipple. The finger never left her skin. The light touch of his fingertip slid from breast to breast, a circle around the left breast, and then over to do the same to right. And then back once more to the left.<br><br>“Breathe deep. Know that each breath brings you closer to the moment when your desire will fill not just your body but your mind. You can feel even now how your flesh yearns for this. Soon you will writhe as your body seeks to surrender to the lust.”<br><br>His finger began to get close to her areolae. He circled one, and spiraled his fingertip just to the very edge of the areola before moving his finger to the other breast to repeat the process.<br><br>“Don’t think. Just feel it. Surrender to the feeling. Surrender to the pleasure of your lust. Let it carry away all concerns. Feel how it gets stronger with every breath. Breathe in. Breathe out. The want, the hunger of your lust grows deeper and stronger with every breath. Writhe. Whimper. Moan. Surrender. Feel.”<br><br>As he finally brought his finger tip to her right nipple, to caress it softly, he lowered his head to her left breast and licked the nipple slowly. His warm, wet tongue tasted her skin. He teased her with long, slow, caressing licks while his fingers stroked the tip of her other breast. He took the small peak of flesh between his finger and thumb and gently pinched.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>31-01-2012, 08:08:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He was tying her wrists before she could prevent it from happening. He had just made a witch powerless as the desire rose deep within her. Her eyes opened, the pupils still blocking out the whites of her eyes. Why had he tied her hands and wished for her not to touch him? The magic seemed to build around her and yet she could do nothing to wield it. He spoke about waiting for it would soon be pleasureable but she wanted to be able to touch him. She wanted to taste him as he spoke of how she tasted before. Would he remind her of the forest if she tasted his flesh?<br><br>All she could do was breathe, in and out. It was grating on her nerves at his gentleness as she arched her breasts into his touch. "Touch me more, Wulfric." Her voice was husky and her body seemed to be on fire. She wanted, she needed more. He spoke of her just to feel the sensations but every tactile movement made her hungry for more. Her little body was beginning to weep for it. Her hands slowly singed the bindings of the sash and she wa free once more. She shot her hand to his head and brought it back to her lips. <br><br>"I want you to take me." Her moved suggestively against his and she wrapped a leg about his waist. "I can breathe in and out but all I want is more of this. I want more of you." She was eager to straddle his waist and devour his lips with hers. She helpless tugged on his dark locks as her hips continued to thrust without penetration. <br><br>"I want you to... Fuck me." Unlady-like words escaped ehr husky voice as she moved to lay on top of him. She brought him to sit up as her breasts pressed against his chest. "I wanna moan out in pleasure, claim me Wolf." Her voice was not her own. Something primal and dark snapped and exploded deep within her. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>31-01-2012, 19:56:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He had not expected she would somehow burn off her binding. But the depth of her lust pleased him. He let her struggle against him, rub herself against him in her expression of her desire to be fucked. He enjoyed the sensation of her flesh and the sense of desperation that her movements gave to her pleading.<br><br>“There are many ways to make you moan,” he said softly. He cupped her left breast in his right hand. He brought his index finger and thumb to her nipple and pinched hard. He leaned his head down to her neck and began to roughly lick and nibble her skin. His left hand pressed to her back as his right hand slid down her torso to her crotch. He gently rubbed her warm, wet vaginal lips. His fingers moved in long, slow strokes over her sensitive flesh.<br><br>“You body,” he said after moving his mouth up to whisper in her ear, “should be touched like this often. You should be made to writhe and moan and beg for a cock inside you. Your body was made to be touched and caressed and stroked.” As he spoke he bent his legs and put his feet between her thighs. He legs spread wide as he knelt on her thighs to pin her legs down. The head of his stiff cock brushed against her as he moved.<br><br>A faint groan sounded in his throat as his own arousal grew. His bestial nature was eager to fuck this gorgeous woman below him. His cock was starting to throb. And he knew his feral lust would have its way soon enough. But there was great pleasure in touching this woman’s soft skin. And he did want to make her beg. He wanted to hear her voice call him ‘wolf’ again as she writhed and begged to be fucked. <br><br>His fingers were slick in the fluid of her aroused sex, and he moved them slowly and deliberately, exploring each fold of warm skin. His other hand pushed her torso to the bed. The tip of his middle finger slipped just barely inside her as he pulled his fingertips from the bottom of her labia up to the top. He brought his mouth to nipple he had pinched, and he began to lick it slowly. His fingers began to seek out her clitoris. His tongue traced wet circles around her nipple while his hand on her sternum held her down. He pressed the palm of his hand lightly to her clit while he slowly began to push a single finger inside her. He kissed her nipple before gently sucking it into his mouth. His palm brushed against her clit as he brought his thumb to the small bud of flesh. As he sucked on her nipple, he flicked the tip of it with his tongue. His finger slid out of her as he lightly placed it and his thumb on her clit. He lifted his head a little and let her nipple slide slowly past his teeth. As he lightly pinched her clit, he smiled at her with a lustful and licentious grin.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>02-02-2012, 00:44:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her bonds had freed her body but it did not nothing to free her body under his control. His breathe caressed her body as he whispered seductively over her flesh. Each word sent chills up her spine and heating her body at the same moment. This man was able to stoke the fire that built inside of her even as she felt she were about the explode. Her gasp was the first noise she had made when he touched her most intimate place. Slowly, he teased and worked the moist felsh as if he had been forever wanting to explore every inch of her. ":<br><br>He was beside her in a moment and whispering how she should be touched like this often. She whimpered under his attentions wishing to finally let go. He was kneeling over her and she wanted to him to enter her. He seemed to be battling his own desires to sate her. She soon felt her body quiver and ripple under his touch. His mouth latched into her breasts as she screamed in pleasure. The wolf was driving her made and it made her beg for him to be buried deep inside of her. Was he destined to make her beg for his touch. "WOlf, make me moan!" Her darkened eyes opened to stare at him. She nearly looked demonic in that moment and her body was demanding him for more. <br><br>She brought his mouth back to her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She was tempted to flip him onto his back and take control of the situation. He was stronger and could easily make her bend to his will. Her hands were free but he could easily remedy that situation again with a simple move of his hands. Rosalyn moaned into the kiss and felt her body move. She sifted and pushed him onto his back and lunged forward to kiss him once more. "I want to take you, Wolf." She reached her hand between their bodies and allowed his throbbing member slip deep inside of her. She hissed in a moan as she slowly began to ride his hardening body. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>03-02-2012, 07:28:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He grinned as he watched the woman writhe and struggle as her desire consumed her. Her lust was beautiful. He wondered what her society friends would say if they could see her like this, lost to sexual passion and begging to be fucked. As she struggled to push him to his back and then demandingly pushed herself onto his cock, she had clearly lost her self-control. Her inner desires were at the surface now, and she was unable to hold herself back. He grinned all the more.<br><br>He grabbed her forearms and flipped her over. He pinned her arms to the bed and slammed his hips down to hers. He held himself inside her, forcibly holding her hips down with his. He trembled slightly as he felt the tightness of her wet pussy squeezing his cock. He growled softly as he calmed his bestial instinct. He pulled his hips back slowly.<br><br>“I know what you want, woman,” he said with a grin. “You want a good, hard pounding fuck. And you will get it.” He growled and began to slowly rock his hips up and down. He forced her to take his cock in a slow rhythm. Any attempt she made the buck up to him he countered by pulling back his cock from her. “Remember this moment, woman. Store this in your mind. Your lust is strong, and you are experiencing what losing control of it is like. You have a body made to be teased and caressed and groped. You are glorious in your lust. Just as I knew you would be. Remember this moment, woman. Remember.”<br><br>He pushed his cock down and growled as he felt her vaginal walls yield. He let go of her arms as he began to pound his hips to hers. His mouth found her neck and sucked on her skin. He growled to her flesh and let his feral desire have its way. He rammed his cock down over and over. Each new sensation of her body enveloping his erection sent another shuddering wave of pleasure through him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>04-02-2012, 08:17:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He grabbed her and flipped her back onto the bed and she moaned at the roughness. She liked being manhandled in such a way and his hips buried themselves deep within her. Rosalyn knew he wanted to let go as much as she did but this experience was all pleasure and no pain as it was earlier. His growling made her arched back and raise her hips to join his thrusts but he withdrew once she tried. Growing frustrated, she begged him to go inside of her once more. His words struck a smile out of her as she forced her hips to stay ground into the bedding but her legs had wrapped themselves about his waist. <br><br>Remember the moment she surrendered to her desire; remember her wanton lusts deep within her mind. If he knew how much her body craved the touch of another, he would never wish to leave her body. She moaned under his thrusts as her body grew hotter and hotter. She felt as if she were about to explode. "Wolf, I am going to explode," her voice was frantic as she tightened her body about him and moaned his name over and over until she was spent. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>04-02-2012, 17:34:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He thrusts were grinding down to her. He chased the orgasm that seemed just our of reach. And then finally, he felt it. He felt the explosion of pleasure and semen. His hips pinned her to the bed. His cock was deep inside her as he opened a suddenly silent mouth. Not even breathe escaped him as he trembled with every muscle flexed and taut. Again and again he felt the rush of semen down his penis and the ecstasy of explosive release.<br><br>He gasped as the climax ended. He was suddenly taking in air again and wanting to gulp it down. He stared down at the woman. He remember last time when his wolfish desires had pressed him to find food, and he had left her on the floor. This time he pulled her body into a tight embrace. He held her as he rolled them both to their sides.<br><br>“You see,” he whispered to her ear. “You are a sexual being. Inside you is a deep and abiding lust.” One arm held her spine and pressed her body snugly to his own. His other hand was down at her ass. He pushed his fingers between her thighs and began to caress the lower part of her labia. “It craves probably even now. Like a fire, it is always hungry.” He began to nibble her skin just below her ear.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>05-02-2012, 05:08:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rosalyn felt something shift deep inside of her and her eyes cleared slowly. Back were the blue-violet eyes as her body still thrummed from their interlude. He was still deep inside of her and she shifted slightly before she felt his words by her ear. His hands were still on her, possessive and yet she could barely move away from him. She wished to sleep, her body too satisfied to fight him in that moment. Something, somthing dark was still shifting inside of her as she removed his hand from her thrumming body. <br><br>"I-I do not think that was me. It was too dark, too evil." She whispered feeling ashamed of her actions. It was as if another being took over her body but she was privvy to the events that surrounded her. She had agreed to this bedding but did she realize her darker nature would take over? "I-I did not hurt you, did I?" She moved her hands to see if there was blood staining them. Her face was flushed with embarrassment that he was now introduced with her more darker nature. <br><br>"Inside of me, there is another who craves the darker nature you seek. To bring my body into bliss and uninhibited pleasures, but she is not who I am. It frightens me that I cannot control this. Even now, she seeks to rise and pin you to the bed. She wants you to feed your body back into hers and have you bend to her will." Her voice grew soft but she could not deny his words. "Tis like a fire that forever burns, for in a moment I would love to feel its flame." Rose brushed a stray hair from his face before she allowed it to rest upon his chest. Her eyes grew heavy as she curled into his embrace like a contented cat.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>08-02-2012, 06:36:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He narrowed his eyes for a moment, but realized the woman did not know what she had said might be seen as derogatory. Her lustful side, she said was “too dark, too evil.” More than his, he almost asked her. He was trying to show her something of her deeper nature, and she called it evil. She was too innocent for what he was doing.<br><br>Perhaps there was a secondary entity within her, but it seemed unlikely that she would have held such a thing and not been consumed by it before now. He wondered if she spoke the truth, or if categorizing her more carnal, baser nature as another being was her means of coping with desires she had probably been taught were evil. She was sometimes hard to read. She had too many secrets.<br><br>He was in danger. He knew that. If she flipped to something evil as she claimed she might, he would likely be no match for the power of it. If she did not flip, if she merely lashed out at him, she would likely strike him down.<br><br>The girl made no sense. She thought his being here was like a hell. She thought his nature was evil. Yet she fell asleep next him as if they were old friends. She was mad. His own evil deeds had finally come to justice. He was in a house with a mad woman who could kill him at any time. A woman who had just expressed her inner desire to bend him to her will.<br><br>He let the woman fall asleep. Then he carefully peeled himself away from her. He went to sit by the fire. Perhaps he was dead. He had fallen and broken his body, and the bear had finished him off. And now, he was in hell, punished for his evil. He sighed. Did it matter? Alive or dead, he was not escaping this place any time soon.<br><br>He had tried to give the girl something beautiful. Tried to teach her something of the pleasure she could know. And somehow that had all been evil to her. He would likely not survive the winter. It was just as well. He was a beast. He deserved this. He had been given a moment of hope. But he had been wrong to hope. There was no redemption here. Only madness, punishment and, if he was lucky, death.<br><br>He suddenly felt drained of all strength. He lay down by the fire. He stared at it. He listened to it move the air with its heat. He watched it flicker and writhe. He closed his eyes, wishing the could some how burn away his soul. He wished nothing mattered. This woman, after all that had happened, thought the good he tried to do was evil. There would be no redemption. Just pain. Pain he deserved. He was evil.<br><br>He dreamed of Lucienne. She was charred and black. She screamed in pain. She hated him. And then there was Rosalyn. She screamed that he was evil. “There is nothing good in you,” she said. “You are a thing of lust. All you love is corrupted. You bring only death. You are evil. You touched me and all you gave me was evil. Suffer. Be in pain. You deserve nothing less.” “I know,” he whispered in his sleep, "all you say is true." Then Rosalyn and Lucienne both burst into flame, becoming goddesses of fire. He turned to run, but he fell. He fell over the ruined side of the hill once more. The women of fire looked down at him. They began to laugh as the hill began to burn. Clods of burning dirt began to fall on him. "This is what you deserve!" screamed Lucienne. "You are evil!" screamed Rosalyn. But then a strange thing happened. He began to get angry. He was suddenly in his wolf form, but somehow still able to speak. "I hate you both! Go to your goddamned hell!"<br><br>His eyes opened suddenly. He was awake. Had he just shouted the words that echoed in his dream? He did not know. He felt his heart racing. He forced himself to breathe deeply and slowly. He felt as drained as he had before sleep. He wondered if he would ever find true rest again. He was still laying on the floor by the fire. He stared at the flames once more. There was something strange to them. Whatever she had done to make the fire burn had left some magical residue behind. It was having an effect on him. The whole house must be covered in the same thing. Was it manipulating him? Did it matter?<br><br>He fell to sleep once more and did not rest. He dreamed of running away from a danger he could not see. No matter where he ran the danger followed. The wind seemed to carry it. He could hear it whisper "too dark, too evil". By the time he woke, he was covered in sweat and too exhausted to move. He opened his eyes and just lay there. In that moment, something a preacher had long ago said to him once came to mind. "<em>There is no rest for the wicked</em>" the preacher had said. "<em>The wicked go to and fro, chased by their own wickedness until they fall into snares of their own making. Someday, your time will run out. All of your chances for redemption will be gone. And you will be too tired to find them. There is no rest for the wicked.</em>"<br><br>"No rest," he whispered as he stared at the fire that brought him nightmares. "No rest for me." He began to weakly try to stand.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>09-02-2012, 09:51:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rosalyn woke an hour before he did. Her shame was still evident upon her mind as she eased out of the bed quietly so she did not disturb him by the fire. She needed to leave, she could not stay here another night with him, her body was now begging for his. She dressed quickly and slipped on a thick cloak and gloves. She made sure she was prepared for the elements this time. She did not wish to wake him so she say down and scribbled a note to him quickly. <br><br><em>"Dearest Wulfric,<br><br>I cannot risk your life by staying with you in the cottage. Tis unsafe for you and unhealthy for me. I did not wish to frighten you with my words but my wanton behaviors are newand unstable. it is fear that has me leaving, fear of harming you. I shall never forget you and hope you find both your peace and redemption someday. Please do not look for me, I cannot bear to see you hurt or sickened due to the storm. I shall be fine on my own. I can take care of myself well.<br><br>Rosalyn."</em><br><br>She left the note on the cushion beside him as she slipped out of the cabin without much noise behind her. Stepping into the snowstorm, her little feet scarcely left tracks but she was not about to be defeated within the first few feet. She would make it the viallge at least before she retired. Her little body was slammed hard again from the storm and winds but she was determined to make it. <br><br>Leaning against a tree, she took the time to catch her breath and think about all had transpired. She lost her virtue to a wild wolf-man and she could be caring his child. Her home, for two years was forfeited in her desires as she nearly turned into a sex-starved vixen. She had never had a reaction to any male before but now she thought running from her fears would be the best. If she ever lost control of her powers and attacked Wulfric, she would never be able to live with herself. She would become evil and there would be no hope for her. He probably thought her mad in her explanations but she did not wish to wait around and explain to him the her powers were tied to her emotions. He would only hope to manipulate her to bend to his desires. <br><br>She shivered, teeth chattering but the tears still fell. Her heart ached at her departure and it longed for him to rescue her from her own cowardness. Her black hood was falling off from the winds and her long red hair flew around wildly, her scent catching in the air. Her hands shook as she wiped her tears. She was being naive and too foolish, she loved a man who would never love her. It was hard to stomach it at the current moment, to give one's soul to another. She would forever feel that hollowed ached as she was forced to marry a man she would never love nor care to love. She leaned against the tree for a long time. she could not remember how long but she knew by now that Wulfric would be up and noticed her absence. Would he come for her?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>10-02-2012, 21:08:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He was still very weak. He could barely push himself off the floor. He finally noticed the piece of paper lying near by. He managed to pull himself over to it. It was a note from the woman.<br><br>She had left and told him not to look for her. If he remembered correctly, this was civilized woman speak for ‘come get me, big boy.’ Would he prove he wanted her? Would he go find her? Would he prostrate himself to her and beg her to stay? No. He would not.<br><br>He had tried to give her something beautiful, and she rejected it as evil. he had no reason to chase her down. He was not some dandified sop she could manipulate that way. The men of her society might react that way, but he was a lycanthrope. He was not her lap dog.<br><br>He laughed though. He laughed because he was too weak to do much of anything. Her magic had seen to that. He needed to leave the cabin. He needed to get out into the snow. But he needed to eat first. The woman claimed she had removed her magic herbs from the food. Now all he had to do was get to it.<br><br>He could not seem to stand, but he managed to get up to his hands and knees. He began to crawl toward the pantry. He got almost half way there before he collapsed. He closed his eyes. Away from the fire, his sleep was less disturbed by nightmares. How long he slept, he could not say, but it did not feel like it had been more than a couple of hours. He pushed himself to his hands and knees. And then up to his feet. He was still weak, but he managed to remain upright as he staggered to the pantry. He grabbed a large hunk of meat and a loaf of bread. As he sat on the floor of the pantry with his back against the shelves, he ate slowly. When the bread and meat had been consumed, he slept again. When he woke, he guessed he had slept for about three hours. He felt much stronger. And thirsty. He stood and walked to the well pump. He got the water flowing and drank until his belly seemed almost too full of water.<br><br>He opened the door to the cabin. He glanced at the fire. It would perhaps burn until someone returned. He felt a temptation to burn the cabin, but he shook his head. Just because it was a danger to him did not mean he should ruin the woman’s cabin.<br><br>He stepped out into the snow and closed the door behind him. He closed his eyes and transformed. When he opened his eyes, he was a large black wolf once more. He sniffed the air. A new temptation came to him. He wanted to see this place from which the woman had come. What was her society truly like, he wondered, that it would toss aside such a woman? He could not be a man there, of course. He had no clothes and no money. But as wolf, if he kept to himself, stayed in the shadows, he could listen and see what sort of place it was. Just for a day or so, and then he would move on.<br><br>He turned and followed the woman’s scent and spoor. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>14-02-2012, 05:00:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The storm had let up. Rosalyn was grateful for the reprieve and was able to finally see the twinkling light of her parents' home. There were lads shoveling the stables and looked at her as if they were staring upon an apparation. She waved to them shyly as she went towards the back entrances through the kitchen. The maids and servants from the house could only stare at her they embraced her and immediately moved her near the fire. They regaled her with stories of the time away since Christmas and fed her well. It was an hour before she heard a familiar voice calling for aide. Marguerite, one of the elder maids, rose to address the call but Rose went in her stead. Preparing her father's tea, she went to the study and smiled as she saw his nose buried in a book. <br><br>"Marguerite the tea will be fine on the-" He looked up to see his fiery daughter in his maid's stead. "God's beard, I thought you would never come to your senses." He dropped his book and embraced his daughter. "You are warmed and smell of food, you were in the kitchens already?" He laughed and stroked her hair lovingly. "You are never to return to that awful cabin, I cannot bear another winter without my daughter. People have forgotten about your debut and ask about you often. You are to stay here, no arguments about it." Sternly, her father spoke and yet she felt the tremble of his body as he shed a tear. He desperately missed his only child. <br><br>Her wardrobe was updated within a week and her jewels were removed from the safe and placed back in her suite. Her linens and beddings were changed to suite her more mature age and she found that she had desperately missed her father and friends. Many people called upon her, their smiles bright and polite. But she had the nagging sensation that there were nasty words spoke about her. <br><br>As her party had left, she was walking to check on the stable lads when she heard the crude comments about Rosalyn. "I hear her father shipped her out of the contry because she whored about and winded up with a baby. She only came back because she ran out of money and left the little bastard to its maids." Rose could not take the rest of the comments as bravely. Rose slipped from her hiding place and sobbed until her eyes were red in a nearby empty stall. She knew she should have never returned. People do not change; they find different things to hate you for. She could not return to her cottage with Wulfic still staying there. She could not stay in her father's home, but she had no where else to go.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>14-02-2012, 19:51:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He followed her back to her family’s estate. She was apparently the daughter of a very wealthy family indeed. Remaining a wolf, he walked onto the grounds. He could not properly follow her into the buildings, so he took time to explore.<br><br>There were several buildings, including a kennel. He growled a little at the smell of it. Not because he objected to dogs being kept in such a lavish kennel, but because he remembered how the lycanthropes had been hunted with dogs. But that had been a long time ago. These were not those dogs. Very likely, it was outside the memory of everyone else on the estate.<br><br>He came to the stables and found them not as well attended as they should be. The first night he was able to sneak in. The horses snorted, but he transformed and managed to comfort them and soothe their fears. He petted each one and spoke softly to them until they became accustomed to his scent. He found an empty stall and transformed once more. He curled up in the hay and slept. He slept free of nightmares.<br><br>Several days passed, and he snuck in and out of the stables with relative ease. He sought out where the family stayed. He wondered where she slept. He found the main house, which seemed more like a castle or a palace. The woman’s family must be very wealthy, he thought. He wondered if she had silk sheets on which to sleep. Probably. And maids to take care of her every need. He noticed over the week that there was a steady stream of visitors. He guessed Rosalyn’s return was big news.<br><br>A few times, when he was able to sneak close enough, he caught snippets of gossip. Some spoke of bastard children. Some spoke of a witch. All of it seemed nasty, and he got the impression most of it was gossip about Rosalyn.<br><br>What kind of people were these? They seemed to eat up spite and vomit it up and eat it again. Why would Rosalyn seek to return to this? How could she live with these people?<br><br>Eventually, he began to also catch rumors of a large black wolf in the gossip. He smiled to himself to hear tell of a giant wolf ten feet tall or the black wolf that was made of shadows. These people were so foolish. But unfortunately, the rumors were about him, which meant he needed to leave. Sooner or later, someone would try to find him, and then the hunt would come, and that would not end well. Already he had seen someone patrol the grounds with several of the dogs. Clearly, he had worn out his welcome.<br><br>He returned to the stables, for he had come to like the horses there. They were good animals even if their owners were not. He would tell them good bye, and hopefully ensure their friendship should they be ridden out to hunt him. But as he drew close to the stables, he smelled a familiar scent. The woman was inside. He waited a few moments. The stable hands were also there, but soon they wandered off as they often did. He walked into the stables and went right to the stall where she was. He could not only smell her, he could hear her crying. He wondered if the stable hands were deaf. How could they not know she was here?<br><br>He opened the stall door with his snout. He made no sound. He simply watched her. She was so dangerous. What could reduce her to tears? Knowing that to startle her might earn a violent reaction, he simply waited in silence by the open door. The great back wolf sat there perfectly still, watching the woman, waiting for her to take notice on her own.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>15-02-2012, 08:36:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				One of the stable lads walked over to her and tried to consol her but she did wish to be seen. She dismissed him politely and played with one of her curls as she stared at the straw surrounding her. She wanted to leave her life once more but the look on her father's face was the only reason she wanted to stay. He needed her to remain with him since he only had her left. Her eyes were still full of tears as her old fears returned into a new light. Why would women be so cruel to one who was nothing but kind to them? Her mind was still puzzling this when she sensed something. <br><br>She rose to see a large black wolf, her black wolf. All she could do is stare for a moment before she shrugged adn went back to her stall. If her mind wished to play tricks upon her, let it play. She knew the true Wulfric was back in the cottage she abandoned for him. Why would he follow her here? He was sure she had planned to murder and repeated it several times before she could try and convince him otherwise. He released a sensual nature inside of her that made her terrified to reveal to another. Why would dare follow her? If she were dreaming his pressence, she did not mind it. She had always felt safe regardless of his nature or rough manner. <br><br>New tears fell from remembrance of the cruel and harsh words slandered against her. Wulfric hated her magic and in that moment, she did to. She hated having this blessed gift of fire and she wanted to be normal. She wanted a man for her own and the only face she saw was his. She curled onto her side and cried herself to sleep.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>16-02-2012, 00:11:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The woman shrugged and turned away. He did not understand. Did she not see him? Why was she alone and crying in a stall of the stables? He tilted his head slightly as he watched her. He watched her curl up and cry until she seemed to slip into sleep.<br><br>He waited. He did not move at first. Quietly, he simply watched. But someone would look for her soon. He kept his ears alert for the sounds of someone coming into the stables. He watched her sleep. What troubled her so, he wondered. What had happened to her strength?<br><br>In time he heard the sounds of people walking. He heard a man’s voice call the woman’s name. The door to the stables was flung open and an older man strode in, shouting the name ‘Rosalyn’. Before the man made his way back to the stall where the woman was, Wulfric had retreated to the shadows. He closed his eyes so they would not reflect what light there was in the stables. He listened to the concern in the older man’s voice. When Wulfric dared open his eyes once more, he saw the man carrying the woman away in his arms.<br><br>This was why she had returned then. The man must be her father. Wulfric watched them leave before going to the stall and sniffing at the scent of father and daughter that remained. Where was the mother? The woman had not spoken much of her mother.<br><br>With the rumors about the black wolf circulating, Wulfric knew he could not remain long. Soon he would have to go. The woman’s father would hunt him down if the rumors did not stop. It was ever the way. Wulfric finished his good byes to the horses, thanking them for not giving him up. He walked quietly out of the stables and began to walk silently toward the boundary of the property.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>16-02-2012, 02:29:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She heard her father call her name and tried to wake from the layers of sleep that were eveloping her. Rose was picked up and carried into the house and settled into her bed. It was a few hours before she woke again and she changed from her gown into some appropriate attire for the bed. Her mind was restless and she decided to do for a walk out on the grounds. She needed to think and see how to present to her father her need to leave him once more. She knew there would be some reluctance on his part. Slipping on her robe and slippers, she crept through the house and out of the kitchens. <br><br>Grabbing a few pieces of bread and dried meat, Rosalyn walked to her favorite part of the gardens where she could feels at peace. starting a fire for warmth and light, she watched the flames but was cautious onto how long she stared at them. The thoughts and emotions were returning but she allowed no tears to fall. She saw that she left her drawing pad and pencil beside the bench from earlier in the week. She sat and sketched as the moon rose high in the sky. She began with her cottage but the wolf she saw earlier was still frsh in her mind. Did she miss the abrasive man? Was she that lonely to imagine his pressence here? <br><br>Her eyes were concerntrating intently and tuned out the world around her. She delve into her craft and saw the wolf appear both gentle and fierce. The eyes looked tormented and haunted. She turned to the next page and began to sketch Wulfric as the amn she saw him as. Kind eyes and a wide smile. His hair was mussed and tousled but his face was relaxed and care-free. She sighed when she finished and gently ran her fingers over his likeness. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>16-02-2012, 20:20:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Unfortunately, the stable hands were returning as Wulfric left. He was spotted a short distance from the stables. He heard shouting and turned his head in time to see one of the stable hands running off to alert someone, possibly the older man, the woman’s father, to the presence of a giant black wolf.<br><br>Wulfric took off at a run. They would be after him soon. No doubt the stories of a shadowy monster would spread. Would she hear of them? Would she know he had been about? Would she use her magic to help him or the hunters? It did not seem to matter now. She had looked right at him and shrugged, as if he had been dismissed from her life. Chances were good now that he would not see her again.<br><br>In only a few minutes time, he heard the hounds. They were on his trail. He was running in a straight line toward the property’s boundary as fast as he could. At least he hoped he was. What he thought was the boundary might not be. The woods to which he was running might still be the land owned by the woman’s family. In which case, they would know all the places he might choose to hide.<br><br>He ran harder. The more distance he could put between himself and the hounds the better chance he had. He did not doubt he was faster than the hounds, but likely the hunters knew the territory well. He did not. They might try to herd him toward some place where they could catch him. All the more reason to run as hard and fast as possible now. If he could outdistance them enough, perhaps they would be satisfied that they had run him off.<br><br>He shot into the woods and made a hard left turn a few minutes in. He turned right again a few minutes later. He ran through the underbrush as fast as the foliage allowed. He came to a wall of thorny bushes and shoved his way through them. The thorns were long and sharp and hurt as they poked past his fur. He heard the hounds getting closer. They were still behind him a good ways, but there was also the sound of horses’ hooves. If the hunters caught sight of him, they might try to run him down. On the other side of the thorns, Wulfric once again ran as hard as he could.<br><br>He had to convince the hunters he was not a threat. Perhaps then they would stop. But a large shadow wolf, perhaps there was no way to convince them he was not a threat. They could chase him and chase him certain they were hunting a monster that threatened them all.<br><br>Was the father on a horse? Was the father in the hunting party? Or was he back as his house, getting his daughter to use her magic skill? Wulfric shook away the thoughts. He focused on escape.<br><br>He heard a second pack of hounds and horses distantly to his left. They were behind him, but his guess had been right. They wanted to try to force him to a specific place. But they did not know they were hunting a werewolf. There was a chance they thought they were just hunting a large wolf. There was a chance they would not guess he could think to counter their actions.<br><br>His canine face could not properly smile, but he felt as though he was grinning. He would do the opposite of what they were trying to make him do. He paused to gauge the distance of the two parties, both from him and from each other. Then he bolted forward, on a line directly between the two parties, back toward the family’s property. It was risky, but it would be a glorious chase.<br><br>He heard the hounds in front of them and then in a few minutes they were behind him. He heard the report of gunfire, the shouts of men and the braying of horns. The hunters had spotted him. But Wulfric was nearly flying over the ground. He was well ahead of them by the time the hunters came together and turned themselves and the hounds about. Back over the well groomed grass he ran. He heard screams. People shouting about the wolf. An old man came out with a firearm, but thought better of it when Wulfric turned to charge him. The old man went inside a building, and Wulfric turned back to his original course.<br><br>He turned toward some tall hedges and&nbsp; leaped easily over them. The hounds would not be able to clear the hedges, but the horses might. He was running through a garden area, trampling flowers, turning this way and that between the topiaries. The woman was near. He could smell her. On impluse he turned and ran toward her scent. It would cost him time in the chase, but she would know he had been here. Why that was important, he would not have been able to answer.<br><br>He leaped over another hedge and there she was. He hit the ground running and he ran right at her. He ran past her close enough to knock the items she held to the ground. The horses were getting closer and the hounds were starting to make their way into the gardens. He heard the shouts of the hunters, and another shot rang out.<br><br>That shot went wide to the left, but as Wulfric leaped another hedge another bullet grazed his back. His feet scraped the top of the hedge, making him tumble. He was quickly to his feet, but he had lost precious seconds. Away he ran, toward another part of the woods. He was getting a little tired, but the horses he knew would soon be getting too tired to continue the chase. And from the sound of it, all the horses were in use. There would be no change to fresh horses. He hoped. The dogs might chase him a bit further, but they would not chase him far if the hunters gave up.<br><br>He was near the trees when more shots rang out. He heard one whistle past his head. And then he felt something bite into his side. His leg faltered. He tumbled but was on his feet again in a moment. He felt the pain from the bite, and he knew it was a bullet. His leg faltered once more, right at the edge of the trees.<br><br>He turned and bared his teeth. This was the end. He was finally going to be killed. He would be shot and that would be the end of him. He would be mounted in one of the halls and displayed as a trophy. The giant black wolf that would in tales no doubt have threatened lives and behaved monstrously. No one but Rosalyn would know he had ever been anything else. Would she care? Or would she be glad he was gone?<br><br>He growled loudly in challenge. If he was going to give the hunters a trophy, he might as well give them a story to remember along with it. He growled angrily and prepared to charge the hunters. If he was lucky, he might take one down before it was all over. They would remember the giant black wolf. Wulfric would make sure of that.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>17-02-2012, 05:56:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The commotion broke Rose from her silent reverie. Dogs were barking and the sounds of horses hooves were beating erratically on the soft dirt. She feared that they were after some bandit and immediately peeked through the hedges to see what was going on. He eyes widened as she found what they were after, <em>who</em> they were after. She had not imagined his presence here over the past week. She did see him in the stables as she cried and shrugged him off. The repore of gunfire was in the air and many men were shouting to rally in different directions. They were going to surround him and shoot him dead. <br><br>She could not allow that to happen. <br><br>Running to the stables, she ignored the remaining men and jumped onto her light brown mare, bareback and in a full sprint. She could not allow his death to happen on her lands. She would not allow his death period! He was bleeding, one of the men called out that they had gotten a hit on him. The dogs barked wildly as she rode and caught up with the hunting party. Her father was there and was about to reprimand her but the look in her eyes had him calling the men off a bit. Her pupils were again flooded black as she slowed her horse down. She raised her hands and created a wall of fire between the men and the injured wolf. Her father called out to her once she did dismount but his voice seemed so far away. <br><br>Walking through the fire, she did not feel the burn and it allowed her to walk through unharmed. Her eyes cleared as she knelt beside him. "How many injuries do you have." There were tears in her eyes as she tried to examine his wound. Her father called her name over and over but she ignored him. "Please, be well. You followed me to protect me, didn't you? Such a noble man you are and yet you say you are evil. You cannot die when your redemption is so near." Rose cradled his head on her lap as the tears fell and the fires receded. <br><br>"I need bandages and hot water, wine or Scotch if you have it. I will not let you kill my friend. He was out protecting me without my knowledge and he is to be treated honorably. If you dare make a move to harm him," her hand was lit with a fire. "I will burn you and your families to ash." Rose looked to her father hoping he would help her in her time of need. "Shh, it will be alright Wulfric. We are getting supplies right now to aide you."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>18-02-2012, 00:18:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				And suddenly, there she was, saving him again. She arrived on horseback and dismounted She said nothing at first, as she constructed a wall of fire. Horses protested and reared. Then the woman walked unharmed through the fire. It was almost like a nightmare, and yet she was not shouting at him. She seemed concerned for him.<br><br>He heard her question, but in wolf form he could not answer her in words. And he knew to transform would be a mistake. The hunters would shoot the monster first and insist their good intentions later. It was just as well that he could not reply, because to her question and to her suggestion that his redemption was near he had no response.<br><br>Then she was talking to the hunters. And her words were strong. Which was good, because he was losing blood. The bullet in his side was buried in the hard muscle. Blood flowed steady from the wound. The sudden stop the woman had made to the action had siphoned away his adrenaline. He closed his eyes and lay his head in her lap. His breathing was still heavy from the exertion of the chase, but he felt weak. And he was starting to feel cold.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>18-02-2012, 03:45:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her father allowed some servants to carry her supplies to her and she immediately went to work. She ordered a variety of heerbs she would need to create a paste to help heal his wounds. She was able to remove the bullet after his eyes closed and he was losing consciousness. She panicked and laid her hands over the wound to try and staunch the bleeding. He needed blood, he need the wound closed. Rosalyn was able to get the stitches in and the herbal paste onto his wound before bandaging him up. She asked the men to carry the wolf to her quarters and keep the supplies well stocked within her room. <br><br>Her father protested but the look in her eyes made him trust his daughter. The servants scrambled to make a thick pallet of cushions and blankets by her bed so she could keep an eye on him. She ordered the wine and scotch to be delivered to her room with plenty of food and water. The herbs were also demanded and she only relaxed until the door was locked behind them. Her father ordered a guard to stand near her room in case she had need of one. <br><br>"Wulfric, you silly man. Why did you follow me here?" She asked gently as she rested his head in her lap and stroked his fur. "You are such and magnificent creature, do not perish from this world. Please, I need you." Her tears slid from her eyes, down her cheeks and buried into his fur. She wished her powers would allow him to be saved. The bullet wound was her own fault and she could not more to help him. <br><br>Rosalyn sat with him well past the dawn rising. She could not sleep until she heard his breathing even and his eyes open. She needed to know he would live. She needed to make him stay. Eyes burning she thought of trying to heal him as she had before. Resting ehr hands above the wound, she muttered an incantation and saw the wound closed. She hoped he would have enough will to live to fight for his life. She did all she could for him. <br><br>Chatting with him about frivilous things, she wanted him to know his company was wanted. "My father would love to meet you once you wake. He would love to thank the man who saved my life from the snow and nursed me back to health. You cannot leave this life without meeting him you silly wolf." She would not allow him to die. "What if I am with child, I am late for my monthly cycle. Would you leave your son without a father?" She was trying anything to perk up his mind&nbsp; and his will to live. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>19-02-2012, 01:06:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He was only vaguely aware of being carried. He was carried into a room that smelled of the woman. He heard her speaking far off while something touched his head. He heard each word, but they passed from his mind almost as quickly as he heard them. He was careful not to move too much, because every motion brought pain. Eventually he drifted into unconsciousness.<br><br>His body’s resources were slim but he was healing. He felt less pain when he woke, but he remained still anyway. He felt the woman’s hands on his wound. The flesh knitting itself together stung, but he made no sound.<br><br>And then he heard the woman begin to talk. She said foolish things. Her father would like to meet him. Her father likely would prefer Wulfric dead. She called him silly. And then she said a startling thing. She was late for her monthly cycle. But a child was impossible. She could not be pregnant. Or could she? This woman who was a girl, this innocent who called up flame at will, she was unpredictable.<br><br>She asked if Wulfric would leave a son without a father. How many fathers and sons had died because of him? He would have willingly killed her father before she had stepped in to save him. He wondered if her father understood that his daughter had saved both a father and a black wolf.<br><br>Could he, Wulfric, have a son? It was not possible. The seed of a lycanthrope never took root in a human woman’s womb. But Rosalyn was something else than human. That much was clear. What she was, exactly, he did not know. Was her father her biological father? Where was her mother?<br><br>What would be the fall out of her saving him? If the members of her society had shunned her before, surely now they would fear her the more. She had saved a wolf and treated him as if he were a man. That he was in part a man did not change the fact that among her people only Rosalyn knew this. He could transform, but what would be the wisdom in that? Then his being a monster would be known for certain.<br><br>He would stay a wolf. But now he could not leave. The woman would need protection. More than she knew. She could defend herself, true, but she was one among many. She would need aid. Perhaps a wolf by her side would keep threatening people at bay. He had brought her to this by his actions. He was responsible now for trying to make sure she did not pay too dearly for them.<br><br>He moved to sit up. He whimpered softly with the pain of motion in the wounded muscles in his side. He lay down. He was not yet ready to sit. He Sighed and listened to the woman fill the air with her words. He relaxed and listened the sound of her voice. What she said did not matter. How ever strange her speech, her voice was lovely to him. And in some way, here, in this place, it soothed him in a way it had not at the cabin. She was more sure of herself here. And lighter somehow. She belonged here.<br><br>He did not. But he would remain. He would become the faithful companion he had protested before that he was not. He would become her wolf. And perhaps her voice would make it bearable.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>19-02-2012, 02:38:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Easym you have to be careful. I want you to take it slow if you are to move. Your muscles will need time to regenerate from the wounds I healed. I want you to rest for the time being." She rose and retrieved some of the food and wine he favored. She cradled his head back in her lap and fed him carefully in his wolf form. It was a bigger mess than if he was human but she could not help but laugh at the sight. She was trying to think of a way to make him more comfortable. <br><br>"I would not ask this of you, but you need to eat and drink something. If you can bear it, could you, transform. I can continue to try otherwise if I need to." She smiled as she stroked his fur. "The door is mystically locked so no one can come in or out. Also they will not be able to hear your voice if you can speak. I would very much like to thank you face to face Wulfric." She purred lightly as she rubbed her aching eyes. <br><br>"We have to stop meeting like this, you arriving with injuries for my aid." She joked lightly but her smile faded. "I threatened to burn their houses to the ground with their families' inside of them if they dare try to harm you again. I do not think there will be a worry about your safety." She was still feeling the tremors of that power when she was so angered by the hunter's actions. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>19-02-2012, 05:21:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He listened to her request that he transform. She assured him all was perfectly safe. But it was not. If he transformed, and was once more a naked man with her, it would only lead down the same road as before. And somehow that had resulted in nightmares. And in actions she had deemed evil. He would not transform.<br><br>He looked at her and deliberately swung his head side to side to signal he would not transform. He was not sure he had the energy reserves to transform in that moment anyway. His body needed to focus on healing. He leaned his head to her hand and took the food from her. He put it on the blanket on which he lay, and held the food between his front paws. He ate slowly, resting between bites.<br><br>He wondered if she would ever understand why he refused to transform. He would like to thank her for protecting and healing him, but he would do that by his actions.<br><br>The woman spoke of her threat to the hunters and their families. She actually seemed to think that would provide a measure of protection. He was certain it would provide a measure of fear. And that might in fact protect them for a time, but it would not last. Humans were apt to get tired of fear and to strike back at the thing they believed was the source of their fears. A fire wielding witch with a giant black wolf at her side would make a convenient target for fearful hatred.<br><br>He wished he could speak to her father. He wondered if the father at least understood the realities of the situation. And he wondered again where the woman’s mother was. Was the mother away? Dead? Why did the woman not mention her mother? These were mysteries he would perhaps never solve.<br><br>As he ate, he realized he was thirsty, and felt slightly embarrassed by the realization that what he needed was a bowl from which to drink. He was not going to like being a wolf all the time. But it was not the worst price he could have paid for his folly. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>19-02-2012, 07:29:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She noticed him make a movement to indicate he was not going to change. He was able, however, to get the food from her and eat. She shuffled about looking for something to place his wine in. Would she have to treat him like a dog? He deserved better than being her pet and it aggrivated her that she would reduce him to nothing but a canine to protect her. He was a human and a wolf but he did have a soul and possessed feelings. He devoured the food she had tried feeding hims before and she soon used her own water basin to fill the bowl with wine. <br><br>"I do not want to treat you like this, Wulfric but if this is your decision then I will except it, for now." She kneeled beside him again as she covered him with one of her own furs from her bed. "If you fear, if you think I shall call you such nasty sentiments I spoke of before, I will not. I have been allowed a week of clarity and I feel ashamed at such words that left my lips. You are far from evil and my words left me feeling horrible. I know hwat you tried to show me was both beautiful and pleasureable in ways I never thought could happen."<br><br>"I had no idea the extent of my powers or what was happening to me when I agreed to make love to you the second time. I found something that belonged to my mother. It was her diary before she died; she was a witch like myself. Whenever, I am overwhelmed by an emotion, my power is palpable but not dangerous to the person I am near unless I wish it. In that state, I can unleash Hell. I know now it was not you who was evil nor I. It is what I am capable if I am not in control of my emotions. I have found that I am able to feel such pleasures without the fear of bringing the world to an end." She was shy when she spoke the next words from her lips. <br><br>"I have tested this theory out on my own by myself. I have... I have touched myself with my fingers imagining it was you." Her voice went into a soft whispered as her face turned an evident red. <br><br>"You have no fears of my harming you. I would never allow my true friend to be hurt in any way. Please, drink your wine but if you ever wish to speak to me, you will be safe. I want you to feel comfortable around me and I know it will taken time for that to happen." She found another bowl, dumping the fruit from it and filled it with water for him to drink as well. She sat beisde him with a book and listened for any whimpering if he needed aid. Her eyes were beginning to close after several hours of catering to his needs and examining his wounds once more. After she had said her peace, she let him to digest his food in silence. Soon she nodded off with the book going limp in her hands.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>19-02-2012, 19:17:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				What a change had come over Rosalyn. Clearly she was happier in her element. Her attitude was almost completely different. Though not her innocence. Even when she spoke of masturbation, she spoke of it in a girlish manner. Wulfric was pleased that the woman seemed happy here with her own people. <br><br>He lapped up some of the wine she set before him. It was slightly humiliating to drink from the bowl, but it was a minor matter in the larger scheme of things. The woman had relaxed here. He could not. He had to heal because she would need protection. Protection from threats she should probably never suspect might come.<br><br>Even though she had tried to convince him to transform, he knew that would be foolish. he would want to touch her and to be touched by her. He would seek to put her to her bed and invade her cunt with his cock. He would seek carnal pleasure when he needed to be first resting and healing, and then preparing to anticipate what sort of threats might come their way.<br><br>Eventually, the woman fell asleep. He lay under the fur blanket she had placed over him and listened to her breathe. To transform and curl up with the woman was a temptation. He wanted to feel her hair and her skin on the palms of his hands. However, he remained a wolf. He lay still. He closed his eyes. He wondered how being a wolf in this place would work. He would need to get a writing instrument he could hold in his mouth so he could write out simple communications. His thoughts seemed to drift. The wine and the sound of Rosalyn’s steady breathing helped to lull him to sleep.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>20-02-2012, 03:22:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rosalyn woke an hour later worried for her patient. He was still a wolf and she shook her head. Why could he not just talk to her? Were her words earlier at her cottage dampening his behavior towards her? She removed something she had often kept hidden, a picture of her mother. She stare at it for some time, almost having comfort at her face and imagining the woman there with her. She had no woman to guide her through both her magic and her sexual relationships. Wiping the tears that had fallen from her eyes, Rose lifted the fur over Wulfric to check on his injuries. She changed the dressings and cleaned his wounds.<br><br>"I have lived here for all of most life without a mother. She died when I was but a child and developing my gift. She was also like me. I-I never had the chance to be given a real mother's wisdom or advice. I am a little girl in many ways, you are right when you spoke of it. I fear I might be that way for some time. Things have never been the same since she left me here. I feel, I feel abandoned and hurt. My father is wonderful but he cannot have the bond like my mother and I had." Her voice was gentle and she wiped ehr tears quickly so she would not cause him to worry. <br><br>"I fear that is why I clung to my silly notions of romance and love. No woman was there to tell me such fairytales never exsisted. No one there to let me know there is more to life than silly dreams and hopes." She whispered. "I just wanted to hold you in my arms and know you are well. I know you are injured and it makes me terrified that I shall loose you like my mother."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>20-02-2012, 04:39:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The great black wolf woke to the sensation of the woman tending to his harm. She was gentle and sad. He wondered what had changed the woman’s mood once more. He listened to her fill the empty air with the sound of her voice.<br><br>At her comment about losing him, he shook his head once more. He leaned up to her and licked her cheek. He was healing swiftly enough between her magic and his naturally fast healing ability. He pushed his head under her hand. He was not going anywhere.<br><br>He wondered what was the nature of the woman’s mother. What had the mother been to have given such powers to her offspring?<br><br>He wondered if he should transform if only for a few minutes to speak to Rosalyn. To make her understand why he need to be simply a wolf. The temptation was growing. Perhaps if he touched her it would be different this time. She seemed much changed here amongst her natural habitat. Perhaps she was more ready now.<br><br>Silently he pondered these questions.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>20-02-2012, 05:02:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He licked her cheek and it shook her out of her silently reverie. "I did not mean to wake you, Wulfric." She was gentle as he pushed his head into her hand. "I want you to get some more rest. I am going to get you some more food I shall be back in a moment." She removed herself from his attentions and quickly returned with the meats he would need to begin rebuliding his strength. She sighed and thought to share some insight with him. <br><br>She retrived the photo of her mother and showed the likeness. "She was the daughter of Gypsies and yet her father was a Lord; it is why my father had fair hair while I have red curls. She came upon my father in a chance meeting when she went to town to collect supplies. They happened to fall in love after he courted her fiercely. My mother was of the fire as well but when she was consumed by it. Her power was her downfall in the end." Lightly stroking the picture, she soon placed out of sight in her vanity. <br><br>"If you are able, I would very much like to have you rest in my bed. Tis far more comfortable than on the floor. Could I not persuade youto rest there for some time while I rest in the chair? I know we have disagreed on this before but your wound was very deep."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>21-02-2012, 15:06:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He wondered how much of the story of the woman’s mother was true and how much might be a story told to a young girl to help her cope with a mother’s death. It might all be true. Though the woman’s power seemed to indicate the mother was something other than a mere Gypsy.<br><br>He ate the food she had placed before him. He did not have to eat so slowly this time. He felt better after his sleep. He wondered again about transforming. With the wound it would prove more painful than usual. He decided to wait. When he was healed, he would transform and explain the plan to her.<br><br>She offered to let him sleep on her bed. To climb into the bed would stretch the wound. But it felt much better. It should be closed. The healing should be internal now. He nodded to her request and slowly stood up. Not that he needed the bed, but it would be softer and he did not want to refuse her attempts to help him. He did not want her to think him ungrateful. He stepped to the bed and put his front paws on it. He felt the wounded muscle stretch and ache. He climbed up onto the bed and sniffed it. It smelled like her. He lay down across the middle of the bed with his paws on either side of his head.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>21-02-2012, 20:40:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rosalyn smiled when he conceited defeat and curled up in her bed as she straightened up the pallet beside the fire. She dragged a chair beside the bed and propped her feet up on the bed and began to read once more. It seemed that time had stood still until there was a light knock on the door. Rosalyn immediately jumped up and made sure he was covered to keep warmth as she slipped out of the room and waved a hand over the door to make sure no one entered but her. <br><br>Her father looked concerned at her exhausted expression. "What were you thinking to defend and heal that creature. You can be killed if it decides to turn on you. You were doing so well here."<br><br>"Papa, that creature dragged me out of the snow storm and is a better friend than any of those society brats. He will be staying until he wishes to leave. You can deal with it or I can leave with him." Rosalyn defended her actions bravely as she heard her father nod at her statement. "He is not to be hurt, or hunted. Consider him my personal guardian. Spread the word or that fire show will be the least of their worries." She threatened as her eyes flooded black. <br><br>Her father raised an eyebrow but nodded again before she turned into the room. She rubbed her eyes as the exhaustion was beginning to strain her actions. She sat on the edge of the bed and gently stroked the fur of the wolf on her bed. "How are you feeling?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>22-02-2012, 02:06:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The knock on the door prompted him to wonder what the woman would say to her father. Would she mention that Wulfric was a werewolf? He hoped she would not. He needed to transform sooner rather than later. He had to communicate with the woman. He would need to communicate with the woman’s father too. He would not understand why his daughter was keeping a wild animal in her room.&nbsp; This was a situation that could quickly spiral out of control.<br><br>As the woman returned, he stood up on the bed and began to transform. He gritted his teeth through the pain of the shape of his body changing in unnatural ways and the tearing that happened to his wound. Limbs lengthened and digits grew. Fur seemed to shrink into his skin. His face distorted and flattened. He growled loudly from the pain, and hoped the woman’s spell to prevent anyone outside the room from hearing him still held.<br><br>He was in the form a man with a freshly torn and bleeding wound in the side of his abdomen. Hair that had once been only shoulder length now reached to to the bottom of his shoulder blades. He winced in pain as he looked at the woman and moved to sit on the foot of the bed.<br><br>“No one must enter while I am like this. And you must listen to me. No, do not talk, Rosalyn. Listen carefully. No one must know what I am. No one must think of me as anything other than a wolf. That in itself will be dangerous, but it is less dangerous by far than if anyone knew what I am. You must never allow anyone to discover my true nature or to see me in this form.<br><br>“That is, with the exception of your father. It is not right that he not know. And I think if he understood, it would bode better for you. He will be able to help protect this secret, and I think he will understand the need for it.<br><br>“Other than your father, however, no one must ever see me as anything but a large wolf. I will accompany you. I will live in this room. And I must be a wolf to all eyes but yours. I will transform once and once only from wolf to man for your father to see and understand, and so I may communicate with him. However, after that even he should never again see me as a man.<br><br>“Make no mistake, Rosalyn, what I am saying is not open to discussion. This is the way things must be. There is no room here for anything else.”<br><br>He sighed.<br><br>“Rosalyn, do not think me ungrateful. I do not know why you came forth to save me once more, but you hold my deep gratitude all the same. And I am glad you returned to this place even if I have put you in danger by coming here. You are far happier and at ease here than you were in the cabin.<br><br>“No, hush, listen to me, Rosalyn. You need to go get your father, and bring him here to meet me. I will be in wolf form when you return, and when you return, you must seal the door as you did before. And then you must let him meet me as the wolf first, and then I will transform for him. And I will let him know and hopefully satisfy to his mind that I am not a threat to you or to him.<br><br>“There will be time for us to converse later. I promise. Let us get this matter done. The sooner it is, the better off we will be. Go now. Get your father and bring him here. If he is close at hand, speak with him a few minutes, and give me time to transform once more. Go now.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>22-02-2012, 05:53:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He was awake and she waved her hand over the door to block out the noise. He sat up and before she could make him rest, he was transforming. He was a human male in front of her once more. Forbidding her to speak as he spoke of his desire to talk to her father, she immediately kneeled beside him and catered to his wound. As he finished and spoke of geeting her father's attention she shook her head and applied a new bandage. <br><br>"It is sweet of you to offer your help and assistance by speaking with my father you will not be doing anything until I deem it so. Do you understand? You are not to leave this bed until you are fully healed which will now take longer because your wound has reopened. I forbid you to transform again because it is obviously painful. I will have you heal and get well before you perform your abilities to my father. I will not yieled to this." She gently pushed his shoulder to the bed as she climbed on the opposite said to cater to his would. <br><br>"We need to get you bathed, this needs to be cleaned. I am going to trim your hair a little as well. If you fight me on this, I hate to have to beg." She smirked as she waved her hand and made hot water and a large tub big enough for him to fit in. "Puch yourself back up and I will help you over there. I will care for you until you can handle transformations without injury." She brushed her fingers lightly against his cheek. <br><br>"No one will be entering this room. You need to get in the bath so we do not risk infection of your wounds, please Wulfric."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>22-02-2012, 09:13:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				“Why do you refuse to listen,” he growled. “Are you now claiming the authority to tell me what I will and will not do?” He backed away from her. “I am trying to set things right, and you use this as opportunity to decide I am now to obey you? Devils be damned!<br><br>“You should have let me be killed, woman. I am trying provide a measure of protection. That does not mean I will be your lap dog!”<br><br>His hands clenched and his body tensed as if to strike her. His hand almost began to rise, but he forced himself to hold.<br><br>“Have you learned nothing! Are you blind? Do you not see the insult you offer me? I am attempting to make a sacrifice to save your ungrateful hide, and this how you talk to me? As if I were some stray you picked up in the market square? Kill me or open the door. I will leave you to your folly since that is what you seem to prefer.<br><br>“Do as I told you, or open the door, or prepare to take my life! I may be wounded, but I will force you to defend yourself. Shatter my bones or burn me! I will not have my willingness to make a sacrifice to correct a wrong treated as acquiescence to live as a caged pet!”<br><br>He roared in pain as he transformed once more. It was an instinctual transformation, fast and hard. He bared his teeth and growled. Pain flowed through his veins. It called forth his adrenaline. He changed from man into a black wolf the size of a small bear.<br><br>He had been a fool. He had let his guard down. She was a woman. She sought to manipulate him. He was betrayed by his own foolishness. He should have known better. He should have charged at the hunters anyway when she had moved in to save him earlier. He would have been shot. At least then he would have died feeling brave and not foolish.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>22-02-2012, 09:43:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Refuse to listen? Have you truly lost your sanity? You are injured and you think I have no concern for your well being. Are you that daft not to notice the blood flowing from your wounds?" her anger was rising but she could see she would have to be the calm one in this situation. He clenched his hand, tensing at the prospect of striking her and she narrowed her eyes. It would be a cold day in Hell when a man attempted to strike her. <br><br>"I understand the sacrifice you are making for me and I am acting ungrateful. I only wanted you to heal a little and allow some of your wounds to close but if you wish to further injury yourself, by all means." She rubbed the bridge of her nose to try and see the logic and serenity this situation desperately needed. He was acting like she wanted him as her caged pet. She wanted him as the man, not the guardian. She knew how to handle such things but he is so erratic in his current state he made it difficult to love him. <br><br>His transformation made her sigh regrettably at her concerns for his wounds. She waved her hand and the bath disappeared and she moved towards the door. "I will go and fetch him but will you please allow me me to treat your wounds. I do not want to see you injured. You are also not forced to say but I would love for you to spend the time with me, wolf or man." She took a deep breath and went to fetch her father. <br><br>She explained that she needed to see the wolf and understand why she defended him so fiercely. Her father reluctantly followed her to her room and she waved a hand over the door to shield the noise. "This is Wulfric, but I ask that you make this brief because he is still very injured. Wulfric, this is my father Gerard. He has agreed to meet with you, as you requested." She began to prepare linens and wine for him so she may treat him after his meeting with her father. The elder man in the room looked at his daughter as if she was soft in the head.<br><br>Had the solitude effected her once brilliant mind? He cautiously made a few steps deeper into the room as Rosalyn moved the bandages beside the bed and sat down, opening her novel. <br><br>"Y-You wished to speak with me?" He gulped audibly but had to believe his daughter was sane enough to allow this creature into her room. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>23-02-2012, 23:56:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The woman protested, but made clear she did not grasp the meaning of his objection. But she acquiesced to the request for the retrieval of her father to the room. That would suffice for now. He would talk to the woman later.<br><br>He sat down and breathed slowly as he waited for the woman to return with her father. Shortly they returned and he looked up at the father. The father seemed a bit concerned about the presence of the wolf. Which was why this meeting was so important. The father’s help would be needed in helping to calm the fears of so many others who would never understand.<br><br>Wulfric waited for a moment as he was viewed by the father. And then Wulfric closed his eyes and began to transform. His limbs elongated while his snout shrunk. His fur appeared to sink into his skin. He growled and gritted his teeth in the pain of the process. Soon he had the form of a naked man on his hands and knees. He stood up slowly.<br><br>“Hello, sir. I am glad to finally meet Rosalyn’s father. My name is Wulfric, and we need to talk.” He held out his hand.<br><br>“I know you have many questions. But if you will, let me start at the beginning.” Wulfric then told in brief but accurate detail the events of his finding the cabin and meeting Rosalyn. He omitted any mention of the sex or the sexual tension that had existed. He spoke of her helping to heal him and feeding him and of his rescuing her in the snow storm. He spoke of her leaving again after the storm, and of his coming to see what her society was like and to make sure she had not come to harm on her return to it. He explained he had never intended for anyone to be hurt, omitting the fact that he had been ready to fight for his life.<br><br>“Which brings us to the current situation. That your daughter has saved a giant wolf with her powers seems to me likely to be news that will travel fast. People will be afraid of what this means. Which is why I am choosing to keep my true nature a secret from everyone except your daughter and yourself. She, of course, already knew. You deserved to know the truth. You need to know your daughter is in no danger from me. But I will not say the same for any who might attempt to harm her. It is my fault that she returned and my fault that she stepped forward to use her powers the threaten the families of your men. This will have put her in danger. I know this, and you know this, even if she refuses to acknowledge it. I will be, in essence, a bodyguard for your daughter. But I will retain my wolf form from now on.<br><br>“My hope, sir, is that you will help quell the anxiety that has no doubt started to spread with the news. Your voice of confidence that your daughter is safe, and the assurance to your men that their families are also safe will, I think, go a long way to defusing this situation. Also, sir, you will need to act as if there is nothing wrong with your daughter having a wolf companion. If I judge you aright, you are a leader of men. They will follow your example and soon they will share your confidence that I am not a threat.”<br><br>He finally stopped talking and reached out to grab the father’s shoulder. His knees bent for a moment, but he managed to remain upright.<br><br>“Forgive me, sir. I have reopened the wound I got from your marksman, and I need to sit down now. At the risk of having your daughter complain that she wanted to make this meeting wait for just this reason, will you help me over to her and let her tend to the wound?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>24-02-2012, 19:10:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It took him a moment to process the scene he saw before him. A wolf turning into a man. The stories and facts were highly exaggerated in some ways. He shook his head as he cautiously gulped a few mouthfuls of air. He would be able to handle this if he already was able to except both his late and daughter's gifts. He simply nodded. Rosalyn watched the two carefully out of the corner of her eye; they needed the moment to speak. <br><br>He embraced Wulfric's hand and gave him his thanks about saving his daughter's life on several occassions. Wanting to ask why he did not remain human, he finally found his voice. "Son, you are to be welcome here for as long as you need to be. My daughter has a good sense about people and if you sought to help aid you, you are in good hands. I must ask though, why not remain human under an alias. I would offer you a place to stay and livelihood if you have need of it. I would not force you to remain a wolf but I will let the lads know you are to be unharmed." <br><br>He heard his need for aid and looked to his daughter who immediately rose. He helped the nude man to the bed and allowed his daughter to aid her protector. "Think about what I said, Wulfric. Your secret will die with me." He nodded to the two and left. As he turned to bid them a good evening, he saw his daughter kneeling on the bed bside the man cleaning his wound with tenderness and almost lovingly. There was something there in her eyes as she gazed upon him and he smiled. His daughter was beginning to feel happy and possibly in love. <br><br>Rosalyn catered to his wounds and did not utter a sound about his lack of listening to her. He was already in enough pain. "I am going to have to re-stitch you, and heal you. I am not sure how much it will help. I am exhausted and my powers are draining at times." She admitted but placed her hands over his wound and closed her eyes muttering an incantations. Gentle heat spread through her fingers and the wound seemed to stop the bleeding and slightly close the injury. She nearly collapsed upon him but caught herself. Hands trembling, she slowly began to finish bandaging his wounds and covered him with several blankets. "Rest, it will help you heal. I shall in the chair beside the bed if you have need of me." She began to move herself off of the bed. <br><br>"Sweet dreams, Wulfric." Her words were followed by her own yawn as she nestled under one of her cloaks and fell fast asleep. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>25-02-2012, 07:00:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He listened to the woman’s father. Staying human and not a wolf, that would was an interesting idea. It seemed like it left many things to be explained that would complicate matters. But it might be easier in the long run.<br><br>He wondered about it while the woman tended to his wound. He was slightly surprised that she seemed not to remember his own healing ability, but then they had never discussed it. Whose fault was that? His own. There were so many things he had not told her. Some he perhaps should tell her. Some he probably should not.<br><br>He watched her fall asleep before he picked her up, cloak and all, and placed her on the bed. He laid her down gently, making sure her head was on the soft pillows. He knew he could not transform again yet, because of the wound. He did now need to let it heal. Which unfortunately meant remaining as a naked man in the woman’s room.<br><br>He sat down in the chair in which she had just fallen asleep. He sighed. He could not seem to help but look at her face as she slept. She was still a beautiful woman. And so changed here. She seemed like a burden had been taken away from her, even when she was angry with him. He watched her placid face until he too began to drift into sleep. His eyes grew tired. And he trusted that no one would be able to enter the room. He let himself descend to unconsciousness.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>26-02-2012, 01:11:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rosalyn scarcely felt being moved from her chair. She was so tired from the constant care of her beloved wolf man. She feared for his injuries even when he was in the company of her father who could easily get him back to the bed. She just wanted to help her friend as much as she could. It seemed like it had been days before she woke the following morning. She went to rise and stand up but saw she was in her bed. Her panic was swift but fell short when she saw the man sitting in her chair. She rose out of the bed and stretched before she covered him gently with a blanket. With a wave of her hand, she conjured her bath and soaked for a good amount of time. Washing her fiery red hair, she soon rinsed and lotion on her fair skin. <br><br>Opening the balcony, she allowed both sunshine and fresh air to clean out the room of foul air. Sitting at her vanity, the sunlight streamed through Rosalyn's long hair. She began to sing a sweet lullaby as she brushed her hair and saw the drying waves take hold. Deciding to dress in a gown of light teal and ivory satin, she tightened the laces and adjusted her gown over the bindings. <br><br>This dress always was her favorite because the ivory embellishments were from her mother's wedding gown. The bodice clung to her breasts and hugged her small waist, a temptation indeed. She decided to let her hair be free and flowing instead of tying it up. Waving her hand again, she made the room cleared and cleaned. The sweet scent of Spring was filling the quiet room. Birds were chirping in delight as the breeze fluttered into the room. She dumped her bath water, tended to the fires, and prepared a plate of food and water for her patient. She changed the linens of the bed and shook out the rugs, forever remaining quiet so he may rest as much as he could. <br><br>She moved towards him after her few chores were completed and gentled stroked her fingers through his hair. "Wulfric, it is time to wake. We must get some food in you and I want to check you bandages and wash you up a bit." She spoke gently to him. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>26-02-2012, 20:15:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The wound was not a critical one. No major veins, arteries or organs had been damaged. So although his body was healing, he slept relatively lightly. He was aware, if only barely, of being covered by a blanket and the woman’s closeness. He drifted in a half sleep for a while. He could smell the woman, and he heard the light sound of motion in water.<br><br>He opened his only the tiniest bit, and noticed that a tub had appeared. He saw that the woman was in the tub and was washing her hair. The sight reminded him of how much he wished to touch her red, soft, wavy hair once again. He continued to feign sleep as he watched through almost closed eyelids. He wanted to see her when she was not self-conscious.<br><br>He watched her naked form rise from the tub, and was glad a blanket hid the slight stiffening of his cock. As the woman sat and brushed her hair, he realized she did it in almost exactly the same way Lucienne had. He wondered if this was coincidence or if all woman so brushed their hair. But then the woman, Rosalyn, did something different. She sang a song. He did not recognize it, but it was soft and slow, like a song a mother might sing to her children. He wondered if her mother had sung it to her.<br><br>Too soon the pleasure of the song and watching the woman brush her hair ended. He watched her don her dress and wondered if she had chosen the garment to deliberately emphasize her beautiful figure. Did she seek to tempt him to her bed?<br><br><em>It would not be difficult</em>, he thought silently, <em>for you to tempt me to know your flesh once again. Already I wish I could run my hands through your hair and over your skin. But this is why I need to be a wolf while I am here. I cannot be trusted. I am strongly tempted to rip that dress from you and drag you by your lovely red hair to the bed. I wish I could make you understand how very deep the temptation of your body is for me. I am a lycanthrope. The desire for your flesh is almost like the need of a thirsty man for water. I can feel it with in me, and it yearns painfully. But I cannot give my desire satisfaction. Or even try. You would resent me for it and probably defend yourself with power. As a wolf, my desire for you is reduced to a manageable dull ache. But I have no words that will help you understand. No doubt you would dismiss them even if I did. You are a bright thing. I have no call to tarnish you with my blackness.</em> <br><br>His thoughts were interrupted when she came to him and spoke. He blinked his eyes and feigned waking as perfectly as if he had truly just awakened. He smiled at the sensation of her hand moving through his long hair.<br><br>“I should apologize for my emotional reaction earlier. I have no reason for it except that I am a crude lycanthrope. Which is, I suppose, less a reason and more an excuse. But it is all I have to offer. In any case, it was impolite to react to your attempt to be kind to me in that manner. I am not in the woods any longer. I am in your home. I will try to act accordingly in the future, though I can make no promises.<br><br>“I am hungry,” he continued without giving her much chance to reply. He did not want her protestations or to hear her acceptance. He severely disliked having to apologize in the first place, and he hoped she would simply move on rather than drag the matter out. “I think you will find the wound is healing nicely.”<br><br>He sat up and pushed the blanket away from his bandages.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>27-02-2012, 06:50:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His apology had her stunned for the moment before she fully absorbed the words. It was the first time she heard such sentiments come out of his mouth and secretly, she smiled. It was a sweet kind gesture, one in which he spoke of scarcely having. Instead of adding more fuel to his words, she nodded and retrieve the plate she laid out for him. Rose placed it on the bed and she examined his wounds seeing the wound was sealed and no longer at risk of opening. She wanted to be safe than sorry. "It is healing quite nicely. You are nearly healed, but if I can request you wait one more day before you try and transform. I do not want anything hindering this recover." She slipped the blanket back upon his lap and handed him the tray and wine. <br><br>"After you are finished and if it is not too painful, can you tell me more of Lucienne and of your life with her. You have a curious a bit. I can understand if you hace a need of rest or wishing to not relive such a incident. In return, you can ask me anything you desire. I shall be an open book for you to read if you like." She sat on the bed not far from him as she curiously watched his face. <br><br>Was it a mistake to ask and offer such details? Did he still wish to learn all of her hidden secrets? OR did she desperately just wish to know more of the protective man beside her. She was eager share more of her life with him if he was willing to do the same. "If you are uncomfortable, please do not hide it and take the bed. I will gladly switch if you need to stretch out your body. I can even warm some water for you to bath and perhaps trimm your hair if you wish it."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>27-02-2012, 21:31:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His apology seemed to be accepted by the woman. Which was good. He would not apologize for his behavior normally, but he needed to keep tensions between himself and the woman to a minimum. He hated that he had needed to apologize. He did not feel he had done anything wrong. And the woman would very likely take the apology as licence to repeat her condescending treatment of him, but if he was to make up for putting her in danger, he would have to endure it.<br><br>The woman gave him a tray of food and a glass of wine. Then she asked him to speak of Lucienne. He sighed. He should never have mentioned Lucienne to this woman. He immediately remembered the sight of the charred bodies as he walked through the burned out house. Lucienne and her family, dead because of him. Dead because he could not control himself.<br><br>He looked down at his plate of food as Rosalyn offered to answer questions in return for his talking about Lucienne. He wondered if she would also want to know what he did after he had found the burned house and bodies. Probably not. It would ruin any romantic ideas she had of him. He was a monster. Rosalyn thought she saw more. But she simply did not see enough.<br><br>She offered to be an open book. He wondered if she could be. How many secrets had been kept from her? How many things had she been told by a father who sought to protect his daughter?<br><br>Then the woman offered to let him have the bed, and then to make for him a bath and to cut his hair. She was being too kind. His hair was longer than he liked it in his human form. He probably needed a bath.&nbsp; But for her to do these things, for her to serve him... No, he could not allow it. It was too much of what he did want. He had no right to such. Not after what he had done to her. Not with what he wanted to do to her.<br><br>But there was one question he needed answered.<br><br>“I will tell you a little of Lucienne,” he said softly as he looked at her once more, “if you will answer one question. You are not actually pregnant with my child, are you?” His tone clearly carried the expectation she would say no. <br><br>He picked up a little of the food and halfheartedly began to eat.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>29-02-2012, 08:04:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His question made her eyes widen but she did not shy away from the question. "It is a valid question to ask and my only answer to give you is an unsure one. I do not know if it is possible to conceive with one such as me. I am not wholly human but neither are you. I have been late on my woman's time for about a week but It could be due to numerous other reasons. I have no worries with it at the moment." She rose and filled a glass of water for herself as she returned back to the bed. She sat as she tried to think of something to ask regarding the woman who had haunted his dreams and plagued his mind. Perhaps if she got him to tak about his past it may ease his troubled mind. <br><br>"I truly wish for you to be relaxed, can I persuade you to take me up on the offer of a bath and grooming. I shall be on my best behavior." She teased him with a smile but she wanted to make sure his wounds were properly cleaned. The bath would help his healing body and the grooming may help his overall demeanor. He transformed into a wolf but he did not need to look like one if he did not wish it. <br><br>Moving again, she tied her hair off of her face by a ribbon as she moved her stool beside the tub. She hoped he would take his as a kind gesture not of manipulation he accused of her in their previous conversations. "I am ready to listen if you wish to speak about your past. I do understand how hard and painful it may be for you to relive."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>02-03-2012, 05:29:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The answer the woman gave was honest, but it helped him not at all. He wondered if she would dare to give birth to his offspring. If she was pregnant, he would have to discourage her. He was not worthy to be a father. And she should not want to bring a monster into the world. A werewolf, and if it had her power, such a thing....<br><br>He did not want to think of what more evil might be his fault if such a thing happened. And so when she offered again to get him a bath, he shook his head.<br><br>“No! I...” The words were barked out, but he stopped himself. He shook his head. “Sorry,” he said softly. “I mean, thank you but no. You behavior is not what concerns me. I know my appearance is probably offensive to you, but I will not hold this form for long.”<br><br>He wondered if he would end up in the kennels as common dog. What a fate, he thought. To be a kept animal. After all he had done, all he had been. And yet, it was exactly because of what he had done and become that he deserved such a fate.<br><br>The woman caught his attention by speaking again of the past. He had promised to tell her something of Lucienne.<br><br>“She... That is, Lucienne was lovely and kind. She was generous. She thought almost always of others before herself. And when... when she looked...” He shook his head. “You would probably have liked her. She was only a peasant girl, but she was beautiful like you, and optimistically kind like you. I got to know her as I helped her family work a farm. It was good work. They were kind to me even though I was a stranger. And sometimes I guess I seemed as ignorant to them as they sometimes seemed to me. But they were never condescending. No. Old fashioned and superstitious, yes.&nbsp; But never condescending.” He smiled a little. “And I loved them. And I loved her. And then I ruined...”<br><br>He stopped and clenched his fists. He forced himself to breathe slowly. His hands unclenched but they gripped the arms of the chair.<br><br>“What else would you like to know?” His slight smile had faded away, and he spoke in a low and careful monotone. He had lost control with this woman once too often. He was not going to let it happen again.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>03-03-2012, 00:53:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rosalyn felt her heart fall when he spoke of denying her offer of a bath for him. She truly did not wish him to return to his wolfish form. She liked speaking with him when they were not arguing with him. He, however, held his temper at bay and politely declined the offer. "I cannot help but wish you would change your mind about staying a wolf. I like spending time with you like this but if it is your desire, I shall respect it." She demurely answered before she waved her hand and watched the tub disappear with a sigh. She quietly settled herself on the bed and listened to his story. <br><br>Her eyes began to water as he described the woman who captured his heart. he also compared her to the woman asn she shook her head. Never would she wanted to be seen as anything but herself. This Lucienne was his first real love, she never wanted to tarnish the image and memories he had of her. He lost both his woman and his friends. She vaguely heard his voice and she slowly registered that he was talking to her. <br><br>"Did you kill the bastards who hurt them? Did you rip them from limb to limb, they deserve nothing less than that." She spoke softly. "To take a life over a petty refusal is nothing more than a coward. I would watch theit bodies contort in pain if it were my love and family threateneded." Her sympathy for him was very soft and almost as if she shared a dark secret related to them. She took a deep sigh before she responded. <br><br>"My father does not know of my knowledge of this but I am trusting you with my families' secret. Let me finish before you speak." She held a hand up delicately before she stared out the window lost in her memories. "My mother, the one I spoke of dying when I was but a child, was murdered. She was found practicing her craft, only to show me the following day. They dragged her out of our home, kicking and screaming, and burned her alive in our woods. My father thought I was in bed, but I followed and watched them tie my mother to a pole and light the flames. her screams echoed in my mind for many nights. Eventually I learned one thing about myself: Rage. I hunted down every last one of the men who murdered my mother and turned them into ash. I was only seven years old." She admitted softly to the wolf on the bed. <br><br>"I would never regret what I did to those men, or their families. They deserved to burn, to be tortured and I hope you will never feel remorse for your actions. You are not a monster that frightens children. You live, you protect, you feed, and you desire. Nothing is wrong with your nature. Its society and their misguided views upon anything out of the normal realm that has turned good people into outcasts."<br><br>Feeling a little relief and she need to close her eyes for a few momoents, she curled under the covers and watched the man sitting beside her in the chair. "I may drift off, and I do apologize if I do. Too much magic and too many days caring for my handsome protector." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>03-03-2012, 04:29:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He was surprised by her questions, and by her story. There was indeed something dark inside her. He wondered if she had ever let go of the rage she felt at the death of her mother. He listened carefully to every word she spoke. She had suffered a traumatic event, and apparently never told anyone before now. It explained her hasty threat to the families of the hunters she had stopped from killing him.<br><br>The woman had a better understanding of monstrous impulses than she had let him believe before. But somehow she still had a sort of naive outlook about it. Perhaps it was explained by the age at which she had first begun to kill. But who could say? He had only barely ever understood his own kind. He felt he did well to make sense of his own muddled mind. How could he ever fully understand this woman?<br><br>Still, her story was important. Her acceptance of violent vengeance meant she might understand what he had done to those who had burned Lucienne and family. Even so, to speak of it seemed dangerous. For anyone to know what he had done seemed a risk. What if she was related in someway to those he had punished and killed? She would turn her fire on him.<br><br>He watched her climb under the covers on her bed. He longed to join her there. Even the thoughts of danger and of Lucienne could not seem to stop his lust. But he breathed steady and slow. His cock was responding to his desire for her, and he was grateful for the blanket that covered him. He remained still as he watched her face. He fought back the lust he felt, and tried to keep it from his face.<br><br>“Rest,” he said. “You have earned it. I will not change yet. You asked me questions, and I will answer them as best I can. And I think you may have more to ask, and I will answer those questions too. But later. Rest now. I will be here. I promise.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>04-03-2012, 07:00:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rosalyn wished for the man to climb into the bed beside her. She wanted to feel the beat of his heart and the soft rhythm of his breathing but he refrained and remained passive and stoic at his chair. She tried to fight the battle her eyelids posed, but she was defeated and soon the dreams came. <br><br>She was back in the field where her mother burned, the ashes were still swirling around her. Her bare feet were covered in ash and soot as she stepped upon something. She bent down and retrieved her mother's wedding band. The pain and anger than errupted into her small mind that evening still left her shaken as she stormed and tracked the bastards who ruined her life. Eyes flooded black, her hands were alit with flames, she struck down every house. She commanded their bodies to twist in agony if they tried to flee. An innocent face wielding a power unheard of by man or witch. <br><br>Rose woke ofrom her dream several hours later crying out in pain as she sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. She wished she had her mother's ring. She buried it with the remains that were found of her mother. She felt the tears fall but she desperately tried to remain silent and take her grief quickly. She wiped her tears as they fell before tenatively looking at where her wolf was sitting before her rest. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xajow</strong> on <strong>13-03-2012, 19:53:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He waited for the woman to fall asleep. He listened to her breathing and sniffed the air. When he was sure she was asleep, he pushed the blanket aside and stood up. He spent several minutes stretching and forcing himself to breathe deep and slow.<br><br>He wondered how much of the story of his angry revenge he should tell the woman. He had promised to answer her questions, but he did not have to give her every detail. Even given her own angry desire for revenge, he should probably be brief in his explanation.<br><br>He stretched his back with his arms outstretched. He realized he would need a proper bath eventually whether wolf or not. He did not relish being a wolf for a long period of time. There were certain pleasures that were best enjoyed as a human. But the circumstances would not allow it. If he were to try to stay as a man, He would have to never lose control. But if there were people threatening the woman, he was not certain he could stop himself from transforming if she were ever in danger. It was an instinctual reaction. But if he remained a wolf, that took an unwanted transformation out of the equation. And while it might take as long as a year to calm things down enough before he could take his leave of the place, he had to remain.<br><br>He sat down in the chair once more and recovered himself with the blanket. He sighed. To be with this woman and never know again the pleasure of her flesh, it would be difficult. But not impossible. And in time, someone would claim her. News of her would likely travel through whatever country this might be. (He never paid attention to such things.) Some strong champion would find her and woo her. It was the way of human society. And maybe by then he would be able to leave her to a beau and to her society. She would be happy and with a man she deserved.<br><br>The woman seemed a little restless in her sleep. He watched her for a while, and eventually the emotional drain began to take its toll. His closed and he drifted into a light sleep.<br><br>He was awakened by by the woman’s cry. He looked to the bed and saw the woman sitting while hugging her knees to her chest. She was crying.<br><br>“What is wrong?” he asked. He started to stand, and then remembered the blanket covering him. He held the blanket to his abdomen with his forearm as he stood and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When the Werewolf Met the Witch (Xajow and Ashleebabe)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashleebabe</strong> on <strong>14-03-2012, 05:40:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Once she heard his voice, her mind seemed to gain some control. Rosalyn's sobs began to dissipate and she locked eyes with him. "I-I just had a bad dream, Wulfric. I apologize if I woke you. Please, take the bed back and rest. I know it is not too comfortable in that chair with your injuries." She moved her knees down and wiped her face off, clearing the tears. Knowing their time was limited together like this, she coud not make herself rise from the bed. She moved and rested her head on his shoulder as she exhaled a breath of sweet sadness. <br><br>"I was relieving my revenge. It happens from to time. I know that there was justice in what I did but I never can forgive the ones who were innocent. They had no hand in their elders' actions but I wanted them to suffer too. I let their parents watch as I stripped their flesh." Her voice went quiet shortly after. "I am not a bad person but neither was my mother. They deserved to die but I should not have to live with this guilt. I should not have remorse over this." She wrapped her arms around his shoulder and kissed his cheek lightly. <br><br>"I want you to stay human, I do. It is selfish of me to ask this of you but I could summon a hundred scenarios on how I wish for my life to be and I see you beside me. You will be safe here and my father will help keep your secret." She sighed shaking her and shifted to move off of the bed and kneeled in front of him. "I cannot face society and pretend that I would not rather be in my cottage alone with you." Her hand siddled up his thigh to his bulge. In a bold move, she ran her hand to stroke his length. 
			</dd>
		</dl>
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