Falling Rain 1

Deep in the woods, the water dripped from the leaves in thick rivers. The sky had opened up for the past few days and everything was quiet, so quiet. Nothing to do out there in the rain, save for huddling somewhere warm and dry and waiting for it to pass. It lightened up yesterday, but the clouds proved deceitful, opening back up the drench the forest within the hour. Shame, such a shame. The world could have come alive again, but the heavens forbid it. Too much activity down below. Everything needed a break to rest and recuperate. Fair enough. Summer had been productive and fruitful and autumn was close enough to start thinking about that work, so a break between the two to catch some rest was more than welcome. But it had gone on too long, much too long and the denizens of the forest were getting restless with the prolonged stillness.

A house sat at the base of a great tree in the woods, the frame wrapping around the truck and crawling upwards like a hungry mouth. Slowly rising, stopping on the second story, and almost collapsing underneath its own weight. So low and squat and small, a part of the tree more than anything else. Ramshackle and cobbled together from whatever was on hand. Still, it stood against the storm and showed no signs of relenting against the continuous onslaught, not now, not ever.

The rain collided with the patchwork house, dripping through the cracks and gaps placed at strategic intervals. So long, it took so long to lay the wood and the gutters in just the right way to make the rain babble like a stream as it collected from the roof and pooled in the barrel. But they did it. They did it and it was worth the occasional draft that slipped on in with the water. All the drafts did anyway was give them the excuse to wear more furs and huddle closer together. Even in the winters as the snow melted, they got the same effect and could chase away the chill with a comfortable fire in the hearth and a hearty meal.

Lina stretched and yawned from the cushions in front of the fireplace crackling away. She didn't really need to start one, but it just felt right, and she needed the heat to be comfortable. No one could blame her for that. Nobody at all. And she would need a fire at some point to cook whatever came back, so really, she was getting ahead of the game. Proactive, that was the word, one of the better ones she had learned over the past little while.

A crack of thunder shattered the soft patter of rain and Lina flinched. She should be better than that, not jumping at the rumble, but she did, and she knew, and she was lucky no one else was around to see. No one should see her like that, no one at all. And no one did. There was only her, in the midst of a storm, and a fire crackling and the promise of food on the way. That was something to look forward to. Meat and fat and skin broiled and hot and glistening and that was all she wanted. Really. She was hungry and the pantry for her little hut was out in the rain and she didn't want to do that. Sure, the fire would heat her back up and dry her skin. But it would be unpleasant for a moment, and that was the grand struggle. Continued struggle now with the knot in her stomach but remain warm and dry. Or venture out into the storm for the handful of minutes to gather some dried and pickled things to fill her body until true sustenance returned.

So many things to fill her body would come back and she would be warm and dry and full, so full, full of everything warm and tasty and nice.

Gregor was gone and she missed him terribly. A peal of thunder crashed down on the hut at the base of the tree and Lina jumped again. He had seen her jump at the thunderclaps and he always touched her and held her when it came. That was nice. He was not here now, and she just had the thunder and the flame to keep her company. The fire was nice. The thunder and lightning less so. The rain was welcome for a bit, but there was a clear line that it had crossed. The distinct lack of Gregor in her presence contributed to her anxiety that the storm only exacerbated. Another fun word. Not quite as good as proactive, but still useful.

Two days, he had been gone for two days, leaving when the gaps in the clouds appeared. He needed to hunt and bring food back to their house. They weren't running low, per se, but the larder had dipped enough to be replenished. And that's why he wasn't here, with her, sitting by the fire and holding one another against the thunder and the rain. And Lina did not like it at all.

---

Gregor pushed the thick strands of hair from his eyes, matted down with the ever-present rainfall. One in particular always seemed to slip through the tie that held the rest of its brethren back, a rebel, an outcast, an individual that dares to disturb the universe. There is nobility in that act, but not now, not in this way. He pushed it back and tried to stuff it into the tail at the back of his head. When he got back, he might finally relent and let Lina braid his hard and then they would match. The thought filled him with an odd warmth that helped chase away the chill of the rain.

He had known much worse colds than this drizzling rain. Harsh biting winters where the wind was like knives, where the eyes froze if opened, where limbs turned black and icy and dead. Snow piled over his head, trapping people inside, suffocating and starving. Still, not pleasant and Gregor would rather not be here anymore. But he had to be here. He had to get food.

He stood over the river, watching the water. So much water and so many shadows darting in and out of his awareness. His spear shifted in his hand. His sword would pulverize the pour things and he wanted them whole until he got back to his home. Fresh, whole fish was better than rotting fish paste. Lina would like that. And he would like that. He wanted to bring back a deer, but the rain washed away all signs of those. So, fish it was. He stabbed downwards and the shadow darted away. Nothing. Less than nothing. Just a slightly more wet stick in his hands. He threw it away. Wasn't worth it. Wasn't worth it at all. It splashed in the mud as Gregor waded into the water.

Cold, so cold, mud squishing around his toes with every step. Not fun, making his skin crawl. Not fun at all. And now he could feel the things swirling around his legs as he went deeper and deeper. They were mocking him, taunting him with their presence every second, they made contact. But he has options now. So many options. Slowly wading forward, going through the surging current towards the rocks on the other bank. Tools in his hand only made the process slower. He knew the world and what to do and any attempt to elevate the process made it more difficult than it should be.

Fish, there were fish underneath the rock, hidden away from the rain and the current, small things, but enough in their combined weight to put int a pot and make something warm and heavy to sit in their stomachs and chase away the chill. This may not be the worst type of cold, but it was persistent, absolutely unrelenting. A gentle pressure into his soul that would not stop. But he could manage. Hands into the water, slicing the current around his body. He would not wear down to the water. He would not bow to the pressure. He needed fish to bring back home and he would not leave until he had his arms burning from their weight. Lina would be happy and that would be worth it. He smiled.

Soft belly of scaly fish underneath the rock. His fingers trailed their length. Soft, so soft and gentle his touch and they fell into a trance, docile and complacent and still. The other hand, quick and precise, shot forward and crushed their skull with a soft crack. One fish in his hand and he threw it to the bank on the other side. He needed more, weightier things in his grasp, but the river provided. There were more fish to fell underneath his grasp.

His hands liked the work, the switch between gentle and crushing, soft and hard, the rhythm and switch beating into his palm. So many fish underneath that one rock so many to take back to the den and greet Lina with. She likes fish. She likes anything, really, so long as it is flesh. She certainly likes taking him in her mouth and Gregor liked that in turn. He stuck his arm deep, scouring for the last little critter to pluck from safety and bring back out. Up to the elbow and he found nothing. Past his bicep and still nothing. Only when he reached his shoulder did something finally make itself known.

A large mouth engulfed his fist and he felt something give as he crushed and squeezed and pulled. And he pulled something still thrashing and biting out from the deep recesses of the rock, flexing and tightening, the machinations of his insides trying to wrench whatever laid at the end of his arm.

Another fish, large and heavy writhed and spasmed as he held it up to the rain. Gregor smiled. Lina would like this. It was a large fish, muscle and fat bloating its body and giving it strength. It even had funny little whiskers around its mouth. Gregor liked this fish. The fight in it was strong, even thrust into the open air. The rain might have something to do with that. Its opposite made it a little more like its home. But Gregor refused to let go and the grand fish refused to let go, and there was really only one way to end this.

Gregor brought his fist down on the rock, carrying the fish with it. The poor thing didn't stand a chance. A crack and it was still. Heavy, so heavy now as the mouth relaxed around his arm. This was enough. More than enough really, but he would be coming back from a cold and knowing Lina, she could eat just as much as he could. A problem in the long run, but right now, he had a bushel of fish and monster on his hand to bring back to his den for his mate. It was a good day, despite the rain.

A lone peal of thunder split the sky and made him jump. Shameful, just a loud noise from far away, nothing to be worried about. It just startled him was all, no real threat. The second the frightened pulse calm, he thought of Lina. She didn't like the thunder, something about big storms from her home that threatened to wash her whole existence away. It never did, but it always came a little too close.

He gathered the fish in his hands. Hurry. He needed to hurry home where Lina was. That's all that mattered, really. She would be there, huddled before a fire, gazing into the flickering tongues, trying to hide away from the noise and the light and watch the door for him. He shouldn't keep her waiting.

His hair fell down over his eyes and he couldn't push it out of the way. He didn't need to. He knew the way home.

---

Lina sighed as the rain continued to pour down. It might be evening. It might be afternoon. It might even be night, for all she knew. Gregor wasn't here and that was the worst part. He was not here in the shack holding in her front of the fire as she held him. He was out in the forest, hunting and foraging and finding. It was a worthy cause, but it didn't feel that way. He should be here, with her. Nothing else mattered, not even the lapping flames and the scent of smoke and the promise of meat.

It helped to think of him. It made the ache in her heart deepen and grow, but it gave her warmth of the soul. Fidgeting little movements as his face came into view. Solemn and grave and pale, no matter what happened, long hair unkempt and wild that would look so much better in thick braids running down his scalp. But he always pulled away at the suggestion. He just liked them the way they were, the wild threads slowly cascading to his shoulders. Still, it was her idea and that meant it was a good idea and he should listen to her. The beard should be a little neater, a little shorter, although there was more than a little bit of appeal in there, the kiss of rough hair on her lips and her skin and her thighs. That could stay. That could definitely stay.

And his size, just all of him, every part broad and defined, every movement tectonic and earth shattering. Even him just moving about the house sent the machinations of his flesh working. So much power in the simple act of raising an arm. So many reverberations through his body from that work, his tattoos tracing the lines of his muscles. And he had so many of those, his arms, his chest, his back, his stomach, his legs. So many of them, so much power and strength in a single body.

It was hers, just as much as she was his. That body and that mind and that power and stillness condensed into a person was hers to hold in her arms as he held her. That made her happy, a smile quirking her lips at the realization of what she would do to him the second he walked through that door.

That was what her body missed, and she could feel the tug in her stomach, the need to be filled and held and to ride him until he broke, or she did. Really it didn't matter who actually called in the breaks for their little matches. It was fun to try that little exercise. There was a gap in her core that needed Gregor there and now she was getting mad. The thunder crashed and it almost didn't matter. Her blood quickened and surged and boiled. Hot breath in her lungs, fire lit in her core as the hunger awoke. Gregor needed to be here now, naked, and towering and hard, all for her.

Her fingers did a passable job of imitating Gregor's touch. The strength was there, more or less. The knowledge of what felt good was certainly there, tracing her breasts and her stomach, outlining the insides, twitching, and writhing. She could feel the twitches as they rocked her as she grew more and more excited and frustrated. They settled on her breasts, fingers slowly kneading the flesh, back and forth, squeezing and release, feeling the little shocks of sensation crawl to her brain. Her hands weren't as big as Gregor's, didn't cover as much area, but the power and the thought behind the action was the same. Simple pawing at soft and sensitive areas to ramp up the rest of the body. The problem was that she knew where each little movement would land, where each prod and nudge and poke and squeeze came and went. Still nice, still lightning and fire crawling through her system, spiking and surging and rampaging through her body.

One stayed on her chest, the other crept down, tracing the dips and hills of her stomach. That sent a shiver of pride through her skull. Still hard and strong and edged slowly flexing and spasming. So good, her hands felt so good roaming her body. She huffed and sighed. Good, but not quite what she wanted. Down and tracing, lighting herself up to only frustrate her further.

She was wet, feeling the heat between her legs radiate up into her palm, her pulse hammering back. She was running hot, so hot, against the draft and the rain. The hate for her partner's absence overrode the fear of the rain. If he was not here to quiet her pulse, then she would simply ramp it up until she howled and drowned out the noise. And it would take the edge off, maybe, that had been slowly growing ever since Gregor left.

The fantasies came easily. Gregor with his stone-faced glare, gazing into her eyes with an intimidating amount of focus. Her own blazing challenge to actually try this time and hurt her, just to see what it felt like. The tightening grip of those massive hands, easily enough to cover her own ample breast, encircling her hips as he aligned himself. His own twitching form, those subconscious movements from the most primal part of his psyche, preparing his own body for the task at hand. The texture of his body, covered in soft blonde down, creeping towards her own smooth dark skin, clashing in color as they joined. And most importantly, the moment, the beautiful, ecstatic, euphoric moment when he prodded her entrance and teased his rampage inside of her.

Big, all of him was big and strong and imposing and Lina felt the need to challenge every ounce of it. How dare he be bigger than her, have thicker arms and a broader chest, and that monstrous length of gorgeous flesh hanging between his legs. She couldn't spread herself the way that he did, reach the places he could, crush the things inside of her in rapturous destruction. But she could try, slowly stroking and fondling, finding the little pockets of herself that Gregor just blew past, savoring the slothful annihilation through pleasure. She hissed into the air, her breath steaming in the ramshackle drought.

Both hands playing within herself, finding nooks and folds and spots to fondle and stroke, breathing heavy and heart hammering against her chest. The weight of her breasts spilled out over her ribs, thumping in time with the motions of her whole body. It was an affair of her entire being, angling her hips to aid her hands, shoulders rolling to find the best angle, all of the muscles in her arms flexing and contorting and squeezing to get more effort out of them. Even her legs clenched and spasmed as the shocks ran down her nerves. Her teeth gritted in effort, finding new sounds to make in her throat. The hiss came easily, holding her breath and letting only a fraction escape, keeping her full and buoyant. But the moan was the right choice, the low, growling expression of hatred and frustration from her womb at the absence of her mate, that was the correct course of action. The muscles used to get the noise out into the world, to clash against the pattering rain and the crashing thunder, those were good muscles.

The reason in Lina's mind faded as the pleasure escalated. It found her core and it tensed and spasmed, curling up off the cushions. Everything was tense and hard. The spot, the little button that Gregor always missed, always rampaged right past in his magnificent rut. He was good, enthusiastic and the sheer power behind ensured a mind-shattering experience. But this was for her, a vent for the days without him and the weather outside that refused her purpose. Tense and release as the power built in her spine. Tense and release as the muscles and flesh tried to tear themselves apart to catapult her further down this maddening train ride of bliss.

It came with a final tug at her core, some deep muscle used for every action in her body, strong and primal and all-consuming in its invasion of her senses. Everything she was collapsed to that point and eviscerated her, shaking a convulsing as Gregor filled her mind with soft blue eyes and blonde hair the color of dull sunlight. He was not smiling. He never smiled, but his eyes, the little corners softened just a bit whenever he looked at her and that was enough, more than enough, because no one else ever did that to him. No one else ever made him hard like she did. No one else could take him as deep as she could and that made him hers and hers alone. Everything was blank and gone and scoured as she spasmed and shook, one final tense and clench from her entire body before it couldn't support itself anymore.

And then it was gone.

Soft and relaxed, not even trying to muster up some startled response to the noise from the clouds. They could rage up there forever. Lina did not care. She drifted through the warmth, the flush on her cheeks, the soft purr in her lungs as the reverberations of her body bounced through her skull. Good. This was a good thing to do when it was cold and raining and Gregor was not there to do it for her. Not quite all the same notes and sensations, but good enough, and with a decent number of differences in there for the sake of novelty.

The afterglow darkened in an instant as footsteps cut through the patter of rain, heavy ones, strong ones, and Lina broke into a broad grin. Gregor was back.

---

Gregor adjusted his prizes as best he could. Fish had their natural slipperiness to contend with but coupled with the never-ending rain and the sheer amount he had in his arms made the process of trying to open the door somewhat of a challenge.