animals, love, nature, short fiction, women

Before The Sun Departs

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‘Now it’s a race to breed before the sun departs.’

David Attenborough, Frozen Planet

 

1.

The roar of the wind drowned out everything but Drifting Snow felt Gift’s paws crunch against the snow, and when she turned, he was there, leading her to where they would mate again. The sun was setting, but there was time for them to couple.

In the last battle, Blue Eye had injured him, pushed him to exhaustion before he had snapped at his throat, driven him back and Blue Eye raised his hands and smirked, shaking his head.

 

‘Falling Ice is coming.’ he said.

 

Gift smiled and shook his head as he put his paws up.

 

‘Go, or I’ll kill you. She’s mine.’ he said.

 

Blue Eye had limped and clutched his throat, spat red onto the snow as he trudged away. Gift sighed and returned to Drifting Snow who sat on the snow, her muzzle lowered to the ground.

 

‘He hurt you’ she said.

 

Gift growled and corrected his posture, compensating for the stabbing pain in his left arm where Blue Eye had bitten him. The wounds would heal, but the news had injured him. Falling Ice and GIft had played together as cubs until their mothers had moved away from one another. Gift did not know him as a boar but he had heard things.

 

Snow stared into her eyes and Gift inhaled the thickening change of her scent, a spiced, warm arousal as she turned around and lowered her upper body to the snow.

 

This time would take, he reassured himself as he mounted her.

 

Drifting Snow walked ahead, fast enough to test Gifts endurance, and surprised by how he looked at her with amused patience, her, saving his frustration for the challenges to his possession. She would turn and look at him, his eyes hard with intent as they moved up into the hills.

 

‘Falling Ice is coming?.’ she said.

 

Gift grunted.

 

‘If he does, he does.’

 

Snow laughed and wriggled her rump at him. Gift lumbered forward and butted her rump with his head which pushed her to one side. She laughed and he gave a tired chuckle.

 

Her laughter smoothed out into a sigh when he laid his paws on her back and lowered her to the snow again. Gift leaned forward and sunk his teeth into her fur, light but firm and she shuddered with pleasure as she surrendered to him again.

 

It was brutal, but they both shuddered together and Drifting Snow raked her paws against the stone and roared her pleasure.

 

A roar travelled to them, malevolent and loud as they got up and looked around. The crisp crash of momentum was close and Gift looked up.

 

Falling Ice. He was charging towards them, quick despite his bulk. Ropes of saliva swung from his maw. He had fathered often and killed more in pursuit, passing on his size and aggression as he lived, fought and fucked on the ice and in the hills.

 

Gift did not charge at Falling Ice. He crouched and stared with a calm acceptance at the charging avalanche of lust, bone and fur.

 

‘Run.’ Gift said.

 

Drifting Snow caught the tight caution in his voice and obeyed him as she ran away. Falling Ice killed mates after he fucked them. The last time had taken, and she was carrying his cubs now.

 

Snow heard the frightening roar of Falling Ice as Gift met him in a collision. She watched as Gift helped him past and Falling Ice tripped over his forepaws, smashing his face into the ground.

 

Gift circled him as he got up and bunched his shoulders. Falling Ice was large, thick with muscle and his fur was a matted patchwork of scars from other conflicts. Drifting Snow looked into his eyes and revolted at the broken, damaged light in them.

 

Falling Ice charged again. Gift dodged the charge and let Falling Ice tumble down the slope in a flurry of snow. He did not charge after him but waited for him to stop then come back to him, a cloud of breath vapour exhaled before him.

 

He watched Falling Ice get up and shake the snow off his fur as he turned, roaring with anger as Gift reared back and waited for him to come.

 

Falling Ice powered up the hill, sending up flurries of snow as he came at Gift without a care for anything beyond death or murder. Gift waited until the last moment and leapt aside, dug his short claws and closed his eyes as he prepared to kill his friend.

 

Falling Ice was large enough to make running up the hill a test of his stamina and he drooled as Gift leapt away from him.

 

‘No more games, boar.’ Falling Ice said.

 

Gift waited for him, saw the exhausted clumsiness and the ropes of saliva which hung from his mouth as he ran at him. Gift held his position, saddened his friend couldn’t see what was happening to him until he swung his paws across and dug his claws into the meat of his neck and snapped his jaws forwards.

 

He bit into Falling Ice’s nose and pulled back, bringing a ragged clot of skin and gristle which he spat as hot blood gouted down his throat and chest, and he stabbed his claws deep until he was past the skin, tugging and pulling as his friend fell atop him. Falling Ice pulled away as he tottered on his rear legs, his face a bloodied ruin as blood spouted from the ragged wounds in his neck. Gift loped towards his friend as he died, and he watched him take his last breath, his blood staining the snow red beneath him.

 

Drifting Snow watched him return to her, with his red maw and determined eyes as she turned and presented herself to him.

 

‘I think the last time took, but this time, it is for you.’ she said.

 

He took her with a loving anger, using her and being used, in turn.

 

He kept her warm through the night, resting his weight upon her, stroking her fur with his paws and told her about Falling Ice as a cub. Dawn broke and Gift left, satisfied he had fulfilled his purpose.

 

Drifting Snow, nestled in her maternity den, dug from the permafrost, remembered the last time with him and how he rested his weight upon her, stroked her fur with his paws and told her about Falling Ice as a cub. His cubs would be strong, and she hoped, as she shifted on her side, smart like him too.

 

She ached for him as she slept, nursing the life inside her.

 

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