Feast of the Hunter's Moon Pt. 01

He woke amongst sheets in disarray and soaked. The hunger roused him again. He laid still in the dark, taking stock. There was light seeping through the thin curtains. His body ached with power and desire. His sex swollen, throbbing with a longing, no, a need to be satisfied.

He rose slowly from the bed, shook the remnants of sleep from his head, and walked to the window pulling back the drapes. The woods surrounding his cabin were bathed in 100% lunar luminosity: the Hunter's Moon. This craving never completely left him, present to a degree his entire life. However, on this night, it rose to the level of absolute necessity.

He stepped out onto the porch. The biting chill of the night air on his nude body had a negligible effect on his aroused state. In fact, he felt even more alive and potent than usual. The frigid ground under his bare feet, inconsequential. A solitary drop poised on the bulbous tip glinting in the moonlight. Peripheral discomforts carried minimal impact compared to what possessed him in that moment. There was only one source of relief, and he knew where to find it.

******

A week earlier.

Andrea brought her red 2022 Mercedes-Benz E 450 convertible slowly to a stop in front of Cabin 9. Killing the engine, she drew a deep breath, pulling the Giants' cap off, tossing it upon the seat next to her. She shook out her long, golden locks, and checked herself in the rearview mirror. The two day drive up the coast from Belvedere, CA to Port Hardy, BC typically took almost twenty hours. But Andi was not your typical person. Glancing at her Apple watch, she made a quick calculation. 'Not bad' she thought. A little over sixteen hours total to cover the twelve hundred plus miles. For too many days to count, she had worked that many hours building her real estate business.

She stepped out of the car and stretched. Her long, slender arms reaching to the sky as her back arched like a cat vivified from its nap. While her professional attire was always on point, accentuating her female form, she preferred dressing down in jeans, a t-shirt, and Chuck Taylor All Stars whenever she got away from it all. And this excursion was about nothing else.

She had worked hard over the years building her business so that it was self-sustaining enough to allow her to get away like this from time to time. Typically, her getaways were a family affair. But keeping balance in her life had become a struggle. Especially in one area of her life and it had begun to be distracting to the point of being a detriment.

Surveying the area, much remained as she remembered. Perhaps the decks and structures had been reconditioned. But to be honest, none of the superficial trappings were why she gave any thought about this particular place at this particular point in her life. Out of the blue, this place had emerged from the recesses of her memory. It had been at least ten years since she and her family had visited it, but that experience had left a definitive mark upon her.

This distant memory had become a splinter in her mind over the years. Painful at times, sinful at others, but always present in her conscious and subconscious mind. In this place, an accumulation of dark, secret proclivities lurking deep within her had surfaced. Her decadent desires had been illuminated by a series of random circumstances she still had difficulty wrapping her head around. Why here, why then, why him? Because at the center of the swirl remained a single, sexual agent provocateur.

Markus.

Standing there she suddenly felt like a silly schoolgirl possessed by a crush, albeit a menacing one. What if he doesn't still work here? What if he did and the powerful affect, he had upon her all those years ago had dissipated into dust? What if being in his presence did not carry the same sway or gravity, for either of them? So many 'what ifs' to be confirmed or refuted.

She remembered reading Kierkegaard's work "Repetition" in college which, among other things, reflected upon the futility, the impossibility, of trying to recapture the magic of a previous experience. "An individual can remember some past event or emotional experience with intensity. That individual might try to repeat pleasure continuously and eternalize the pleasure in the temporal." But the endeavor was doomed to failure. Or something to that effect.

She had no idea if coming back here would rekindle that part of her that had burned in a way she had never known before or since. She guessed that was the million dollar question she came to answer. Just then her phone vibrated. She looked at her watch and saw that it was her husband. 'Not now, Bill,' she thought to herself and sent it to voice mail. She wasn't ready to deal with him yet.

She had popped the trunk and was in the process of retrieving her luggage when he appeared suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere.

"May I help you with those?" he asked politely.

She was jolted from her internal deliberation by the abruptness of his appearance, but quickly regained her composure.

"Why yes, that would be nice," she replied searching his face for a flicker of recognition. She saw none.

Markus pulled the largest pieces out as if lifting a feather. She recalled the struggle to get them in the trunk while packing the car. Grabbing the smaller items, she followed behind looking him up and down. While he was certainly older, he carried it very well and did not seem worse for the wear of the past ten years. He ascended the stairs to the large Cedar deck without breaking stride and waited by the door. She slipped past him and punched in the code for the door's lock and walked inside.

He followed her into the cabin. It was as she remembered, possessing none of the rustic features that she had associated with 'cabin-life' those many years ago. He watched her as she walked across the space giving her temporary digs the once over. Despite her tomboyish attire, he still found her to be a very alluring woman. He felt the familiar internal stirring of his appetite. His cock twitched subtly.

"Where would you like these?" he finally interjected breaking into her thoughts.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I haven't been here in quite a while and must have become lost in those memories," she said.

"They updated this unit with new appliances since you were here last," he offered.

"You remember me?" she asked slightly surprised and hopeful. She still had not detected any sense of recognition in his eyes. They simply held her with the same curious interest an animal might have for potential prey in the wild.

"Of course," he said matter-of-factly. She was encouraged. Not only did he still work here, but he also remembered her as well.

"I wasn't sure you'd remember me," she said, feeling lame as the words left her mouth. Evidently, the events of her previous visit had remained with him, though she remained unsure to what degree.

"Well, you did leave an impression," he said flatly.

"Oh, and what sort of impression was that?" she queried playfully.

"So where should I put these?" he asked ignoring her question.

His formality stung her and created doubts, replacing her hope of only moments before.

"Please, if you could put them in the bedroom that would be great," she said curtly.

He carried them into the bedroom and placed them on the King size bed which dominated the room. She set down her bag and began looking through her purse for some money.

"Don't worry about that," he said firmly, "it's all part of the service." Then he turned and left.

She watched after him as he walked away filled with a confused cocktail of emotions. He remembered her, even after ten years had passed. She had left a stamp of some sort upon him. Yet he did not indicate any interest in her beyond performing his hospitality duties, as if she were simply another guest.

While he was not exactly cold, he did seem strangely disinterested. Perhaps the intensity of the previous events had faded for him in a way she could not let go of. The incident with the wolf. The spectacle of the Hunter's Moon. There was a sinking feeling developing within her that Kierkegaard had been right. Attempting to recapture a moment in time was futile. Trying to infuse it with the previous import, impossible.

******

Markus had found himself needing to be away from her as quickly as possible. It was overwhelming to have seen her again, intoxicated by the mere sight of her after so many years. Especially now, as he struggled to control the hunger. Thankfully, holding the suitcases prevented him from using his powerful arms and hands in other ways.

He had to get away and regain his control. If there was going to be a time for her, it could not be now. His control was tenuous, at best, due to her sudden reappearance. Giving into his natural impulses right now could be ruinous, for both of them.

He strode past her red car and back into his sanctuary of the woods. There was plenty of work around the camp to be done that could distract him. That needed to distract him. At least for a few days. Once he had created some distance from the desire, and his desire for her, his head would clear sufficiently to regain mastery over the monstrous urges bubbling to the surface.

******

Ten years earlier.

She turned off of Bear Cove Highway onto Jensen Cove Road. Her husband had chosen this spot for the family getaway this summer. Her red Volvo XC90 SUV turned into the driveway of the resort passing beneath an arched sign "Ecoscape Cabins -- Where the Adventure Begins."

Ecoscape Cabins has been built with sustainability in mind. From salvaged wood to eco-friendly insulation, recycled plants & reclaimed flooring, the ownership was committed to maintaining a sustainable footprint through new ideas such as a recycling program, installing power saving appliances & light fixtures and instituting sustainable housekeeping practices.

The continued effort to minimize their environmental footprint remained the top priority at Ecoscape Cabins. To Andi, it sounded like a lot of unnecessary expense to appease a clientele sorely in the minority. But she understood marketing well enough to know that everyone needed an angle to compete.

As they pulled up to Cabin 9 the view from the outside was not as bad as she had feared. "Roughing it" was not her idea of a good time. And Bill knew this was as close to camping as she would ever get. He had shown her the photos from the website as to what the interior looked like, so she had signed off on the trip. To be honest, the place looked a lot more like a condominium in Malibu than a cabin on the Northern end of Vancouver Island, British Columbia.

However, she understood how the real estate business worked. Photos taken of a property always showed it in the most favorable light or with pictures that were sorely dated. Needless to say, she had braced herself for the worst. The kids excitedly jumped from the vehicle as it came to a complete stop. They were stoked for the outdoor adventures awaiting them in the coming week. Clearly, they had been unduly influenced by their father.

She had always appreciated her husband's commitment to the environment though she thought it naïve. She understood something about the American viewpoint on land use that he did not. Or was unwilling to accept. Land would always be seen, first and foremost, as a commodity to exploit for financial gain and there was nothing all the tree-huggers in the world could do about it.

There was an enormous amount of money backing the special interest groups who existed to ensure that restrictive legislation upon land development never saw the light of day. In fact, whenever regulations were enacted which allowed the unfettered development of "open spaces" anywhere, but especially in California, a bone was always thrown to groups such as Greenpeace to give them the impression they were winning. However, the reality was that they were not. She knew it, Bill did not.

Whenever she and Bill tried to have an adult conversation on the topic, he usually ended it by saying she had joined the "Dark Side." She, being a pragmatist and capitalist, believed that this was the way of the world. She wanted to be positioned to maximize her profits. After all, it was the income she generated from working for the "Dark Side' that paid for their vacations. She would often smirk, behind his back of course, that he never appreciated the irony in that.

For Andi, this trip was an opportunity for some quiet time to decompress from the daily stress of building one of the premier real estate companies in Northern California. Bill would be the one coordinating these so-called adventures for the kids. She had brought along a few novels that had been on her reading list far too long. Though she was a Type A personality, she had always been a voracious reader. No matter how long she worked, she would always end the day reading. Having an extended period of time to indulge herself with a good book was her overriding reason for taking time off from empire building.

Entering the cabin, she was relieved the photos she had seen were a fair representation of the facilities. Bill followed in with some luggage.

"What do you think?" he asked hopefully.

"It's not half bad," she admitted.

She walked through the rest of the unit. The bedrooms were on the small side but would suffice. She and Bill had a King size bed which took up most of the space in one room. The kids' room had a Queen size for the girls and next to it a Twin for Samuel. The bathroom was also small but sported a large walk-in shower.

A loud thump sounded from outside the back of the cabin. Andi went to investigate imagining the kids were up to some mischief. As she exited the back door she stopped short. There was a man stacking firewood against one of the walls. He heard her footfalls on the gravel and turned.

He was not handsome in a traditional sense, but appealing in a raw, starkly masculine sort of way. She decided he possessed rugged good looks. He stood about six foot tall with broad shoulders and thick, muscled arms covered by a thin, brown plaid flannel shirt. His legs were like tree trunks, sturdy and strong. The five o'clock shadow completed the look. He was a real man's man if she had ever seen one. And not the hipster lumberjacks she ran into from time to time in San Francisco.

"I'm sorry ma'am. I hope I didn't startle you. I meant to have the wood stocked up before you all arrived. Guess the time slipped away from me," he said simply.

The entire time he spoke, she felt his eyes penetrating her. Not like he was undressing her with them. More like he was carefully and thoroughly appraising her.

His gaze left her stomach doing small somersaults.

"No that's alright," she replied regaining her balance. "I thought maybe my children were getting into something they shouldn't."

"Two girls and a boy?" he asked. She nodded. "I believe they went down the path towards the stream."

"Is it safe?" she asked. "The road we drove in on was called Bear Cove Highway. Are there really bears around here?"

"There are some black bears in the area, but they're mostly harmless. More scared of us than we of them," he replied.

"Speak for yourself," she mused.

"I take it you're not a fan of wildlife, then?" he observed.

"Not really. This is more my husband's thing. He's the environmentalist in the family," she offered.

"Interesting," he said without elaboration.

"How so?" she inquired.

"Well, beneath all our superficial pomp and circumstance, we're animals just like the bear and wolves," he said matter-of-factly.

"Wolves!" she blurted out.

He chuckled. "Don't worry the local packs mostly roam the other side of the island.

All we see around here is the occasional lone wolf. But they are usually just passing through."

"How comforting," she replied sarcastically. "So no one's ever been attacked by a wolf or bear around here?"

"Not the four-legged kind, anyway," he chuckled. "At least, not since I've been here."

"And how long has that been?" she asked.

"Not long. But I've lived around wild animals most of my life. Every day of their existence is focused upon survival. Unfortunately, apex predators such as wolves, bears, and cats have learned the hard way interacting with humans is a losing proposition. They will only attack a person if they feel threatened. Or if you get between them and their young."

"You said 'not the four-legged kind' what did you mean by that?" she asked.

He looked her deep in the eyes and said, "You probably have more to fear from a two-legged predator than a wolf or bear in these parts."

Bill came out the back door. "There you are, honey, I was wondering where you disappeared to. Who's your friend?"

"I'm sorry, I'm Markus. I do most of the maintenance and upkeep around here," offering his hand as he spoke. "I was just replenishing your supply of firewood."

Bill shook his hand. "I'm Bill and I guess you've already met Andi."

"Not formally." He extended his hand to her. "Pleasure to meet you, Andi."

Her hand was swallowed by his powerful mitt. "Likewise."

"I'll check and refill your firewood stock each day as well as keep the wolves at bay each night," he said winking at Andi.

"How kind of you," she smirked.

Markus began walking away.

"Wait, wolves, what?" Bill asked confused.

"Andi will fill you in Bill," Markus said over his shoulder as he continued to walk away. "Give a shout if you need anything."

Andi watched him closely as he departed. Humph. She imagined he was the kind of two-legged predator she ought to watch out for.

******

Two days had passed, and Andi had seen no further sign of Markus. Well, that was not exactly true. The wood pile had been refilled daily, or perhaps nightly. But she had not seen the man himself. Was he avoiding her on purpose? She had been a tad difficult towards him during their lone encounter despite her self-admitted physical attraction. Not certain why she behaved that way, perhaps it was a distancing act.

Truth be told, she may have been put off earlier because he did not exhibit the level of interest, she was accustomed to receiving from men. Not that she was conceited, but most guys flirted shamelessly, even though they knew she was married. Markus had not come on to her in such a straight-forward manner. His gaze had unnerved her initially, but nothing in his behavior had been inappropriate.

In fact, his demeanor exuded a strong, confident, and capable man. Quite the opposite of many of the men she had dealt with in the real estate world. Those men tended to be cocky and misogynistic as if they were God's gift to women.

As the family sat around the outdoor fire pit roasting marshmallows and making s'mores, she contemplated this mysterious man. Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with a feeling of being watched. Her eyes searched the darkness but found nothing.

Secretly, she simultaneously feared and desired that a pair of wild, hungry eyes would be staring back. Measuring her. Desiring her. Wow, where did that thought come from, she wondered to herself. Must be the new book she had started. She closed her eyes and tried to shake such images from her thoughts.

Then, she jumped slightly as suddenly, in the distance, the distinctive howl of a wolf could be heard. The fireside chatter stopped.

"How cool," Sam said breaking the silence. "Can we go see if we can find him?"

Andi looked to Bill to stop that nonsense. Bill shrugged.

"No buddy," his father said. "Wolves are dangerous."

"But maybe it's that guy's pet wolf," Sam pleaded.

"What guy's pet wolf?" his mother asked.

"You know, the wood guy," Sam said innocently. "I saw him walking with a wolf yesterday down by the stream. He would throw a stick and the wolf would bring it back just like a dog. Then the man would pull out a piece of raw meat from a plastic bag and give it to him."