#text bits

The werewolf shook her head, sending little droplets of water splashing. It had been raining all morning and noon but that sure hadn’t stopped her from heading outside, hoping to hunt. The urge had been prodding her for some time, had made falling asleep as much of a difficult task as staying asleep. More often than not it had even startled her awake with blood-soaked dreams and a gnawing hunger.

So, out she went, weather be damned.

Her hope had been that a certain huntress would join in, accompany her, but the weather made it difficult, what with the temperature of the rain and the moisture in the air making it hard for the daughters to take on the shape of a swarm.

So, alone she went.

And alone, she returned.

Soaked and with nothing to show but wet soil on her pants and twigs in her wet hair.

“Enjoyed your little hunt, pup?”

The werewolf’s eyes darted across the hallway, where Cassandra stood leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest with a playful little grin on her lips. She could feel the huntress judging her appearance and the werewolf huffed in return.

“I did.”

“Where’s your prey?”

The two stared each other down and with each second of silence that passed, Cassandra’s grin grew a little wider.

“… it escaped,” the werewolf begrudgingly admitted, shifting her weight from one mud-covered boot to the other.

“Did it now? I wonder how that happened? Wait, no, let me… guess,” Cassandra whispered, pulling away from the wall and stalking towards the werewolf. “Mud on your boots… and you leave tracks without an impression of the shape of your sole… mud on your knees and sleeves… hmm. Alright, here’s what happened. You lost traction and slipped on the wet soil.”

The werewolf grit her teeth. Caught. That’s exactly what had happened. A turn that was a little too tight, a slip and… the buck ran and she just barely managed to catch herself and avoid face-planting into the mud.

“So?”

“You didn’t shape-shift?”

One eyebrow raised, the huntress approached the werewolf, circling around her with a curious expression and a little tilt of her head.

“And return to the castle with my fur soaking wet and covered in mud and twigs?” the werewolf grunted, half-serious, half-amused. As if Lady Dimitrescu would forgive her for shaking the excess water off in the main hall…… again. It was bad enough that she left tracks of mud in her wake.

“Oh, you know Daniela would bathe you, if you did,” Cassandra teased. Her fingers touched the smaller woman’s shoulders, walking alongside from one shoulder to the other as she circled.

“Maybe that’s the problem.”

“Sounds like you’re a water-shy little puppy.”

“Says the one that didn’t want to accompany me for fear of getting wet,” the werewolf took a step forward, blocking Cassandra’s path, leaning into her vision. An amused chuckle was all she got in return, with the huntress giving her a little shove, forcing a separation.

“You know there’s a very valid reason for me to avoid getting wet,” she said, but remained in place, eyes now focused on the werewolf. “Hmm. Maybe you just want to see this white shirt soaked and see-through, don’t you, pup?”

As if for emphasis, she brushed down the front of her own shirt, up to where the bodice started.

“You wish,” the werewolf snapped, glaring at the woman before her.

If only her reply didn’t sound so half-hearted and rushed.

Cassandra chuckled.

“Maybe I do. But not in the main hall,” she murmured, raising one hand to caress the werewolf’s jawline, drawing her in closer, the beckoning eagerly followed. From nearby, she could hear footsteps, slow, purposeful, but heavy. It could only be the lady’s.

“What, scared someone is going to see?” This time, it was the werewolf that couldn’t stop the grin on her lips. “Didn’t expect you to be so shy.”

“Ha! That’s a lot of bark for someone with no bite,” Cassandra withdrew her hand and the werewolf had to hold back a whine at the loss of contact. “You’re the one that would panic if someone were to walk in on me bending you over that vanity and making you cum at the mere touch of my fingers. All flustered and shy.”

The werewolf struggled to stop her mind from derailing into inappropriate thoughts while she was still very much soaked to the bone and half covered in dirt. She took a breath, furrowing her brows. Focus. Don’t let Cassandra get the upper hand.

Do something. Say something.

“Your mom is all flustered and shy.”

Silence.

The slow steps had stopped.

Both of Cassandra’s eyebrows shot up. In disbelief, perhaps? Maybe she didn’t expect the werewolf to resort to this level of petty? Then her eyes followed the movement, darting up, fixating on something behind the werewolf, something very tall.

“I beg your pardon, mutt?”

The werewolf’s breath caught in her throat, heart leaping in her chest and stomach plummeting all at once. She didn’t dare turn her head, didn’t dare face who was very much the lady of the castle, who had literally just overheard her.

“I-”

Something grabbed her by the coat, slowly, slowly lifting her off the ground and turning her until she was face to face, eye to eye with Lady Dimitrescu. How had she gotten this close, this fast?! Without the werewolf’s ears picking up the noise?!

“S-sorry?” the werewolf spluttered, hanging limp in mid-air, trying not to let out an excessive amount of little canine whines and whimpers. The lady fixated on her for an awfully long time – five seconds? Ten?

Finally, mercifully, the lady seemed to have decided that today was not the day that the mutt would be kicked out of the castle for being a nuisance.