Whispers of the Beast Realm

Cotton

Allmer :

The sun hung high in the sky as I slithered outside the city. Ace, the young wolf with four stripes, was left behind to guard Shira, albeit momentarily. He would be able to control himself and protect her for a limited time. The wild cotton I had noticed on the way was not far; the journey would take only a few minutes. Fate had taken an unexpected turn today. I had originally planned to collect the cotton in a few days, but Shira's periods had come sooner than anticipated.

As a snakeman accustomed to the ways of the beast world, Shira's choices and preferences continued to baffle me. Most females in this realm opted for furs during their estrous cycle, but knowing my mate, she'll avoid anything associated with animal slaughter or even animals for that matter. Her uniqueness fascinated and perplexed me. It was a stark contrast to the life I had known in this beastly domain for so long.

Yet, amidst my confusion, a deep sense of gratitude overwhelmed me as I recalled the circumstances that led to our meeting. I was grateful to that insect that had caused Shira to fall from the cliff, placing her in my path. I hadn't planned to ask her to be my mate. My intent was merely to spend a few hours in her company, seeking respite from the monotonous existence that had become my life. However, as our time together unfolded, an unexpected desire emerged – a yearning for her to stay longer.

Her animated way of talking, her shrewdness in some aspects, and her inherent naivety in others evoked a range of emotions in me. I found myself wanting to protect her while simultaneously nurturing her mental strength to endure the harsh realities of this world. I had the intention to share more of what I knew on our journey to the city, but the emergence of the mate mark had introduced an element of uncertainty. I don't want her to be in danger but also want her to be reunited with her loving family. I'll have to eventually tell her, even if it makes her distance herself.

My mind wandered back to the morning when she smelled heavenly. My sweet mate deep in slumber with my mark on her neck. I need to apologize for my inability to resist touching her and drawing her close. Despite her attempts to maintain distance, her reactions betrayed her emotions. I knew she found me attractive, by how she looked at me when she thinks I'm not paying attention or how she flushes red on my touch.

I gathered a substantial amount of cotton. With each fiber I collected, I contemplated the shift within me – perhaps I had harboured an attraction to her from the moment I saved her. Sheded skin held significance for snakemen, symbolizing a gesture of appeasement to their mates. When I initially envisioned making clothes for her from my shed skin, I didn't anticipate the profound joy of seeing her embrace those garments after bathing. In that moment, I would have gladly accepted any request she made.

Having a mate was undeniably altering my perspective. I reveled in the realization that I was the one who saved her – a twist of fate that spared her from the clutches of another feral. Just the thought of another feral having his hands on her increases my bloodlust. Despite my initial commitment to avoid burdening her with the mate mark, the possibility of winning her over seemed a worthwhile pursuit.

Returning home, I looked forward to taking care of her. However, as I approached, I sensed her absence. Flicking my tongue in mild annoyance, I knew that sky will fall before my mate listens to what I instructed. This girl. With a sense of exasperation, I slithered in the direction where her unique scent lingered, determined to find her.