Thread: The Big Good Wolf (Frogger/Campion)

Colin's relief at finding Rieka was like a big hug to his mind. He didn't for a moment suspect that she could be behind it, though if anyone found out she was alive, she'd be the first suspect. Were's were nothing if not loyal and dutiful. He would have to mourn his father later. Right now he had no clue what to do and meekly followed her through the city as they evaded notice. At the gates they were waved through. Pilgrims were common in the poor quarter and who cared about them. They were always unarmed after all and carried no goods. As they entered the woods and the trees became thicker, Colin grew more nervous and stuck very close to her. There were things that lived out here who would love him for a meal. Bears, ogres, giant rat packs...and rumors of worse things. It had been a long walk by the time they reached the half-hidden shack. She'd told him of it before when he'd asked long ago where she went at the times she disappeared. He understood her restless nature. He also knew that now, he was a hindrance on her. He had no skills for being out here...other than some very minor spells he'd been learning at the academy. THAT had been a real accomplishment of his father's. Getting him enrolled. It wasn't that he was the first male there, it was that it had always been powerful mothers who had gotten their sons enrolled so they could learn spells to assist them in managing an estate under their wives once married for political gain. From the first, he had taken classes not only in food, trade, servant management and such, but also in healing and elements. The shack wasn't large. It was built for her, but he didn't feel like an intruder. It was more like a den and he was part of her pack. He took off the pilgrim's robe and felt guilty. Rieka...I had to steal it to hide. I hope we can get it back to its owner. Then he felt it all come down on him. What had happened... She was a little taller than he, and he ran to her arms as he sobbed, his grief seizing him up. Tears poured forth and he was taking convulsive breaths as he shook, only soothed by her presence. Can...can we rest together? I really want you to hold me tonight, like you did when I was smaller. I'll feel so much safer if you're right there holding me. After a little, he reached into his daypack. He hadn't eaten his lunch...the cook always packed way too much food. The cook...hope he made it out alive. But he laid it out on the small table there. Do you want some of my lunch or are you going to hunt? Can I watch you shift? It was a big question...watching her shift. She had to strip to do so. Some years ago, she'd caught him spying on her and he'd been so innocent about it that he hadn't gotten punished. He just liked to watch the process, and there hadn't been anything sexual in his interest...then. But as he'd grown, the fact that his stepmother's curves were generous, and in her were form, she lost none of her curves had been the subject of many a masturbation session. He'd always obediently saved his semen for her to use for barter, or destroyed it. Right now, he was too miserable to feel aroused though. I'd like it if you were in your were form while holding me tonight. You're so strong that way. But what he wasn't thinking of was how she was more primal in that form and what holding a scantily clad male might do to her.