Growth and Lust Ch. 03 - Cold

“.....”

She wondered if he would do it again, as she thought this she could smell his scent. His clean body mixed with the furs of the simple dwelling made her tingle inside. She looked at the side of his head, dreaming of curling up with him and burying her face in his hair. Relishing his scent and feeling his skin as it rubbed against her.

“M…”

Startled out of her thoughts, she strained her ears and listened harder, trying to hear the faint whispers that were going to come out any moment.

“...mmm-ma I’m so cold…”

The sheepish voice left his lips and Bakaree turned to look at him with shock in her eyes, the fire started to catch and light up the room. She could see his fist balling up bundles of fur, squeezing them and trying to pull it closer. Bakarees heart broke, she looked down and saw him shiver and stir. Visions of the black hound escaping from his cover and taking her again shook her, she reigned herself in quickly and kept her composure. She looked down at him and felt her heart thump hard, gently grasping the blanket she pulled it over him, covering his chilled back and settling him.

“mHmm...Ld..”

Bakaree crawled back to her furs and laid down to fall asleep, thinking about the hut in the forest and the question Perta wanted to ask.

The next day the sun warmed the mountain and had Perta outside stretching in its light. He drew in a deep breath and tasted the foliage on the gentle breeze that blew threw. He scratched his lower back and looked around, seeing the village come to life and people starting to go about their day. Perta gave a subtle smile as he watched a familiar face approaching with a waving hand.

The chief came walking up to their hut with excitement in his eyes, “Perta, tonight is the night, do you and Bakaree have work to do today?”
“We do,” Perta said as he nodded his head, “but tonight we will be there.”

“Wonderful my mountain child,” The chief said as he put two hands on his shoulders.

Bakaree could barely concentrate on the work they had to do that day, it was their last day of collecting and everything was almost done. Save for a few water and earth samples they had everything needed, she would load the test tubes and drill the core samples. Every now and then looking to the woods and wondering if something was inside and looking back at her. Trying not to think about the trek back through the chilling forest that might have more plans for her.

Night started to fall finally and Perta stepped out of the hut wrapped in large black furs, Bakaree was outside waiting for him at his request. Leaning against the hut in her leather coat, leaving it open she felt the night air sweeping around her.

Perta looked at her in the lights of the torches that illuminated the village at night, her four armed leather coat on with her hands in the pockets. Her white hair down and flowing around her face as it just barely made it to her shoulders. One leg propped straight while the other was gently bent and digging the toe of her boot into the ground.

“Why’d I have to wait outside?” she huffed at him with a disappointed tone.

“Because I had to change...the festival...just…” he stumbled over his words.

Bakaree patted his back, “Hey don’t worry, I can’t wait to learn some of this mountain culture. I think we’ve grown pretty close too, so don’t be afraid to show me a thing or two.”

Perta looked up at Bakaree, his steel eyes looking into hers as his cheeks blushed a little. Bakaree could barely see the difference in shade in the dim light of the night, but it still made her heart flutter a little.

“Lets uh, get goin huh?” she said as she removed her hand from his back and gestured to follow the people of the village.

Bakaree and Perta walked quietly and followed the crowd, Bakaree tried to guess what was going on tonight. Seeing other families walking together with one of their own wrapped in the same furs as Perta.

“So why the fur?” she asked.

“The chosen member of the house has to thank the mountain.” Perta said as he walked.

“Who chose you?” she asked absentmindedly.

Perta looked at the ground in front of him as he walked, “I chose myself.”

“Oh, starting your own house?” Bakaree said as she looked down at him, he seemed different to her tonight.

“I’m the last one of my house.” he said quietly.

“Oh...I’m-”

“Don’t...Don’t think you have to say anything about it.” Perta said as he lifted his head to look at the point where everyone was gathering. “It’s been a long time and…if it goes well tonight, I’ll get my answer.” He stomped forward, his feet were wrapped in the traditional fur boots of the old days, he could feel the harsh cold on his legs under the fur adorning him. He gripped the mask he hid under his covering, dead set on showing the mountain he was ready.

Bakaree listened but wasn’t sure what he meant, she had grown so close to him and came to think of him in a caring light. She couldn’t help but worry and feel they were connected in some way through this evening.

They arrived and met the crowd of the other tribe members, the ones wrapped in fur stepped to the center. Perta turned as he was about to walk into the clearing with the others, “Remember what I asked of you?”

Bakaree tried to hold her ground, but the pain in his eyes let her know that he wasn’t about to debate this with her. “To the back.” she said coldly.

Bakaree stepped backwards, not wanting to lose him as her heart pounded and something felt wrong. She watched him turn his back to her and continue on, meeting with the others and receiving head nods and pats on his back, welcoming him into the fold. She felt herself slipping further and further, the people around her bumping into her and filling the void she left as she receded.

Bakaree felt like she waited for hours, the ones in the center forming a tight pack as the night seemed to get darker. Torches lined the inner edges of the circle providing light so the crowd could see the men and women in furs in the center. The chief sat on top of a wooden platform just on the edge of the crowd, after several minutes he stood and stepped towards the edge. He looked at the people in the circle, then raising his hand he pointed to someone on the ground. They turned around, stomping hard on the ground and crying out. The crowd around Bakaree went silent, the air itself seeming to get sucked out of the crowd as they all held their breath.

The young chief puffed his chest, “Many years ago our village was torn, great loss and painful ends. Tonight we remember those who left, and those who stayed to fight. As always, one may be chosen by the mountain.”

Bakaree watched as the chief glared out to the crowd, his head whipping to her direction and then his eyes seeming to burn into her. She felt something inside her grip her chest, 'somethings wrong', she shouldn’t be standing here idle, she felt the compulsion to be on the front lines.

“And if one wishes to claim the chosen, they will have to fight.”

He stomped hard, his blow on the wood breaking the silence, all at once a loud cacophony of drums sounded off. Beating and thumping in time to a fast paced rhythm, Bakarees eyes darted to the center circle, she began to step forward, pushing those in the crowd out of the way. Feeling a hand grab one of her forearms she looked down to see a persons grip on it, she looked at who it was but the crowd wasn’t as lit as the center. She realized how dark it actually was around her, the hands seeming to double in number with every breath she took. She huffed and yanked her arms away, starting her trek back to the front, pushing and pulling at those who were trying to slow her steps.

Looking to the edges of the front of the crowd she saw the other families doing the same, fighting and pulling and working to keep themselves up front. One or two members being picked off and dragged away but fighting like hell to keep in front. She felt her mouth twist into a snarl as she ripped hands from her body, never throwing fists but pushing the attackers back. She focused all her energy into concentrating on pushing them off her and keeping her feet moving. She felt them gripping her coat, she slid her arms out as they peeled it from her. Her four powerful arms flexing in the torchlight and warning her aggressors that she was not so weak.

“BAAHRAAAA!” a voice cried out.

Bakaree looked in the center of the circle, watching the members that were formed into a tight pack separate and drop their furs. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the exposed flesh, the small coverings hiding their personal areas but letting everything else be bare in the torch light. Strips of leather and fur wrapped around their wrist and ankles. She wanted to stop and watch but it took everything to keep her attackers from getting the jump on her and pulling her back into the crowd.

She now felt concern, trying to find Perta as she looked at their faces for the first time, feeling a tinge of fear as she saw the hand made masks. Detailed visages of stags and foxes, elk and bears alike and jumping around with vibrant colors and painfully crafted drawings on them. She watched as the men and women started to jump in synchronization, matching the beat of the drums and starting to move in circles. Throwing their arms to the side and then up. Moving and dancing as they stomped and twisted, chants and claps coming through as they constantly kept bouncing around the chaotic circle.

Bakarees blood ran cold as she singled him out in the small crowd of dancers, his hips twisting and writhing. The hot steams of breath exiting through the masks mouth, she could feel her eyes start to burn with tears as she looked at him. The black dog mask covering his face that she had come to enjoy looking at. The intricate carvings on it disappearing into the ominous black void of its color, his bloodshot eyes showing through the peep holes of it. He twisted and shook the mask as he stomped his feet, moving his body in a timed choreographed motion. Delicate drops of water leaving his cheeks, landing on his pounding chest and mixing with the sweat forming.

Bakaree fought like hell, becoming more forceful against the attackers behind her. She could hear them gasp at her strength as she lifted some off the ground, or sent others flying back and skipping across the snow. Her heart pounded hard as she watched the living effigy of the hound make his way around the circle, his eyes filled with anger and want as he gave his all to the rhythm. She started losing herself in the drums and chants, the hands grabbing at her seeming more in numbers and trying harder.

More and more torches lit in the crowd behind her, light reaching further and further into the crowd trying to take her. Looking at one of the people impeding her advance, she could finally make out the faces of her attackers. Red face paint adorning their lips and chins, running down their necks. Baing her to join them, to leave the mortal realm and forget the fight she had to deal with in this state. She almost lost her composure and started dealing deadlier blows, her instincts telling her to brandish her blades and silence the attackers permanently.

‘The sickness, the ones in the hut,’ she thought as she pushed them off and remembered the nightmare of the ones who were long dead in the hut from the forrest. She made it so close to the front, ‘To be taken by them is like being taken by the plague, what happens if you lose?!’ the realization twisted her gut as it rang in warning of danger yet to come.

But with a loud erratic set of beats from the drums the hands released and they retreated from her. Silence filled the night air, the wind seemed to stop and no one dared to make a sound, she scanned the dancers to find him. To ensure he was safe, ‘Safe?’ she thought, ‘of course he’s safe what would he be in danger of?’ she thought. But she couldn’t shake the feeling, the instinct that was sharpening her senses to a knife like edge. The tiny voice in her head, sounding like her mother telling her to, ‘Breathe calm’. She exhaled, then drug the air from the landscape around her deep into her lungs. Filling herself with the world, drinking it in and studying it, her senses taking it and working it over inside.

The copper sent swept into her nose, she felt it caress and tease her receptors as it hinted at the fate to come. The icy chill crept up the back of her neck and gripped her cheeks, warning her of the fight. Her eyes widened and her pupils dilated, studying the crowd for all forms of attack or malice.

Her heart almost stopped beating as she felt the fabric drape over her shoulders, she felt it pushed into the hands of her upper arms. She instinctively grabbed it and balled it up, gripping it as if it was too precious to let any chance of losing it ever come to mind. The silence hit her like a truck, so quiet it left her head reeling in its painful tone.

She never moved, the people around her never swayed or stepped while seeming too scared to breathe, the earth around her seemed to shift and split the crowd in front of her. Pertas lean frame shining in the torch light as the steam rolled off his worked body. A long sigh escaping him and boiling out of the hounds mask, she locked onto him and could feel their heartbeats synchronize. She could see the bloodshot eyes through the mask, the way the moistened state of them left drops running down his face and landing on his chest. She watched the mask shake as he spoke underneath, too far away that she should have never heard it but it came through clear as he asked.

“Why was I..left...behind?”

Every hair on Bakarees neck stood on end, the goosebumps on her arms stood out and felt the chilled air of the night sweep over her like an avalanche.

‘He gets so cold.’ the old voice said in her head.

Bakaree saw the four legged silhouette escape the villagers that encircled the dancers, its paws digging into the snow and launching it forward.

Her body shot forward like a bullet from a rifle, her Moreb legs pumping full of adrenalin and oxygen to reach her target first and claim him as her prize.

‘My table he will stay.’ it said in her head.

She pushed harder, barreling through the dancers that seemed to be waiting in a trance. Seeing the blur of her opponent closing the gap between Perta and it. Darting between open legs and dancers, seeming to zig zag as a flash of darkness. She bellowed out a cry of anger, flashing fire in her eyes as she worked her body as hard as she could muster. Seeing the finish and her foe so close she thought she wouldn’t make it. She weaved and guided herself through the dancers, forcefully removing them with her larger arms as she could only focus on him.

She saw Perta close his eyes, his head trembling as he accepted his fate, arms outstretched open as he planned from the beginning. Resigning to let it take him, to let it claim him and free him from the loneliness that had plagued him since that day. Visions of joining the mountain and being free of torment, finally answering the question he had asked for so long.

Bakaree felt the tears slipping from her eyes as she pushed herself forward, her muscles thrashing as she watched the jaw of the hound open. She leapt through the air, snarling and reaching hands flying towards the man who offered himself.

She felt herself connect, bashing into him and taking him to the ground like a predator on its next meal, skidding in the snow as her arms wrapped around him. Draping their cover over both of them with her upper ones, squeezing him tight and gasping for breath. She could taste his musk in her throat, the sweaty and slick body writhing underneath her as she coddled him.

“What have you done?” his voice murmured out underneath her.

They stayed like this for what seemed like ages, Bakaree feeling his chest heave as he pressed against her. His smaller figure shaping to hers as she kept them wrapped in the cocoon she had made with the piece of fabric given to her. She could feel it was thick and warm, a shield from the elements outside, and from the attacker she had kept from Perta.

She finally sat up on her knees, letting the fabric open and unravel around them, she looked back and saw she had skidded them through the snow. Now almost at the foot of the wooden platform she had seen the chief on, she saw the dancers stood as still as statues. She looked up and found the chief standing on the platform and looking down at her. Then watching him step off the edge and plummet down into the snow with the two of them.

Bakaree worried he injured himself for a moment, then seeing him stand and lock her gaze, his eyes white and somber.

“My mountain child,” He said with care in his tone.

Bakaree reached her lower hands to grasp the blanket, trying to hook her hands into Pertas armpits and pull him closer, never breaking sight of the chief.

“I’m sorry to have left you, but the ones I took were such a burden, I couldn’t bear to have another.” he said as he stepped towards them. “But I will accept your offer, and take you with me now, to join the mountain, and the ones you lost.”

Bakaree felt her instincts blaring away, telling her to grab him and hold him close, to keep this thing away from Perta. ‘Thing?’ she thought, ‘What the fuck is it, it’s not chief, it’s not right.’ She began to pull Pertas sobbing frame up, her lower arms wrapping around him with the blanket as her upper hands pulled his shoulders.

The chief stopped, his eyes shining a brilliant white that shouldn’t be possible, “Will you take him, and keep him at your table?”

Her breathing stopped.

“If you lose him tonight, he will be mine to take.” the chief said.

Bakaree stood, her prize for the night held to her chest as carnal fear and power flooded her body, realizing she was going to have to fight death itself for this man. She lurched forward, breaking into a run, her forearm driving into the chief and pushing him out of the way. Seeing a four legged black silhouette leave his body as he fell to the snow, she began to sprint, the extra weight in her arms doing little to slow her down. Reaching the edge of the crowd and watching them part for her, silently witnessing her claim as they wondered if they would make it through the night.

Bakaree only concentrated on holding him tight to her, fleeing from the festival and into the night as she tried to retreat to the hut. Her legs springing over obstacles as she gripped him against her powerful figure, her eyes searching the darkness for danger. The thick blanket fluttering in the wind as it wrapped around them. She could hear more footsteps in the snow, four legs running hard and fast as they tried to gain on them. Sweeping from side to side she could hear the snorting and snapping of jaws in the darkness. Catching sight of two white eyes in the night taunting her as she tried with all her might to escape their burning gaze.

Finally the hut was in sight, its arched doorway inviting her to safely reside within and rest from her weary and tiring night. She got to the thick skin and spun as she entered so she wouldn’t tear it from the threshold. It rolled out of the way as she passed through, her feet dug into the furs, one upper hand landing on the ground as she skidded, the other three holding Perta.

She could hear snow being thrown up on the side of the hut, growling and sniffing coming from the other side. She rested him on the furs, letting the blanket open and cascade around them, her lower hands gripping and pulling the blades from her back. She touched a knee to one side of the floor near him as her other foot dug into the furs, straddling over her claim with her hands ready to fight.

She could hear the beast circling them, snapping its jaws with throaty growls reverberating around the hut.

“Perta, what is this?” she said as she looked to the noises coming through the wall. “What does this thing want with you?”