Why hadn't he listened to his father? "Let the villagers take care of the wolves Aubrey." But no he was to damn stubborn, the villagers wouldn't have been able to take care of them anyways. The village consisted mostly of women and children who couldn't fight any better then the chickens the wolves had been devouring. And the men of the village? Well let's just say they weren't spring chickens anymore.
The cold seemed to be seeping into his very being. He slapped his arms trying to bring the warmth back into them but was only rewarded with a stinging sensation. Still he continued up the mountain.
It was sometime in December he knew that much the exact date he didn't really give a shit. The snows were at there highest this year, it had been well below freezing for quite sometime now. Food was not coming in abundance when he killed the wolves he'd bring them back with him; the people were desperate and would eat anything. He heard a howling cry and completely forgot about his discomfort tearing off into the woods with only a knife. The hunt was on.
Dark was falling when the lights of the village first came into view, he trudged down into the little valley in which his town lay. A wolf over each shoulder a smear of blood on his pants where he'd whipped his knife clean before sheathing it. They had put up one hell of a fight but in the end he'd been victorious.
He could now make out the faint outlines of people standing on the village outskirts torches in hand no doubt awaiting his arrival back, or on the less positive side forming a search party.
"It's him." He heard the eager voice of a young women. "There he is." another shouted this voice was male probably his father.
Before he knew it he was swept into the villagers arms someone took the wolves and yelled, "Tonight we shall feast, in honor of our town's hero, and the destruction of the cursed wolves!" For some odd feeling Aubrey had gotten the sense it had been the preacher whom yelled this. For everything was damned and cursed in his eyes.
"Come son tonight you become a man." A villager winked at him and elbowed him in the stomach his eyes drifting to the group of girls intently gazing at Aubrey.
"Laddies?" He walked up to them, seeming to glide stopping only a few feet away from them, and flashing a small sexy little smirk. The apparent youngest giggled and looked off to the left avoiding his gaze. "Aubrey," they chimed in unison.
"Shall we?" He held out both arms offering them to the nearest girls, which latched on like leeches. The other three followed as close as they could behind him stroking his back playing with his ears. And running there hands through his short black hair.
The pub was brilliant inside Aubrey had never seen it so full. He could hear the laughter from the room above where he sat with the five women. They had proceeded in taking his shirt off and where now admiring his well toned chest his skin was fair but not pale. And he had bruises from hard days work. And a gash on his back from his battle with the wolves, one had managed to get behind him as he fought off the other. The youngest was tending to it whispering words of romance in his ear ever so often. He had broad shoulders and a somewhat thinner waste. His arms were strong and when he moved his muscles rippled like a caged animals. His features looked like they could be sculpted off the new roman coin. The coin was beautiful Aubrey had seen one a while ago when a Roman troop came threw to recruit soldiers Aubrey had wanted to go but his father refused. And told him if you go who shall take care of your mother and sister if something happened to me? The guilt had gotten to him so he'd decided to stay but he swore next time he'd go. Of course the women the Romans had brought along with them were quite the tigers themselves. If it were up to Aubrey he'd put them in battle it had taken months for those scratches to heal.
What the villager whom had spoken to him before didn't know was Aubrey had become a man a long ago. He smiled at this he remembered the first time some young woman's father had come up to his own father's door swearing at him that if his daughter was pregnant he'd kill his son.
Aubrey's hair was black as Raven feathers and shadowed his brilliant blue eyes slightly. His lips were sensuous and kissable, completion flawless.
"What are you smiling about," the third girl asked she was young too probably no older than 17. "I can make that smile bigger if you like?" She kissed him and he yielded to her, opening his mouth letting her tongue slide inside. He did not remain unresponsive wrapping a strong arm around her waste he pulled her close to him, the others became jealous and started shoving one another.
He closed the door behind him "virgins" he sighed. They hadn't even gotten to the fun stuff and all 5 were out for the count. He'd only bitten there ears, kissed them a bit, caressing there bodies all the while, they had an orgasm and couldn't go on they fell asleep shortly after.
He went down stairs to see the pub had dispensed celebrating probably to go home and do a little celebrating of there own. He found his father speaking to a women he'd never seen before. She was ghostly pale. With a halo of black hair framing her slender face, she wore various jewelry all silver with rubies he didn't inspect it any closer than that he was not into women's jewelry. She looked like the kind the preacher would call cursed or damned. He paid no heed to his father conversing with her in whispers; father loved what he called the art of the women. Aubrey's mother however did not.
Aubrey sat down at the bar pouring himself a shot. He was in the process of pouring himself a third when his father beckoned for him.
"Aubrey, come over here son. I'd like you to meet a friend of mine."
Aubrey stood leaving the glass on the table. His father motioned to the seat next to him. Aubrey sat. Now that he was closer he could get a better look at this women she seemed pretty enough but a dark vibe surrounded her, he did not care it was not his business to give a damn about the people his father happened to keep in his company.
"This is my son Aubrey," he clasped a proud hand on Aubrey's shoulder and gave him a slight shake. He was drunk.
"Aubrey this is good friend of mine, Ather."
