I promised myself I wouldn't make anymore A/B/O stories, so what did I do? Ignored it and started writing another anyways. Ah well, we'll see how this goes!
Life in the wild wasn't easy. Food was scarce in the winter and even the finest of nests and burrows couldn't keep out the predators prowling, escaping from the confides of the hibernation period that burdened so many others. The thick blankets of snow impeded scents and footprints, making hunting and catching prey far harder than necessary. But for some, the icy slush mattered not when their keen nose could smell a rabbit from a hundred miles away. Such was the case with the wolves lingering in these very woods.
Ciel was taught by his mother at a young age to avoid wolves at any cost. As natural predators to vulpine kind, he never questioned her on it; it was a wolf that took the life of his father after all, leaving the the fox's mate to care for her last living kit alone. It was by a mixture of memories and instinct that he knew to never trust a wolf. Rachel attentively provided for, protected, and trained her son from that day until her last, passing the spring before he was set to leave the den at sixteen years of age. He was left without a choice but to hunt alone and find his own den, far from the one in which sickness consumed his mother, the stench of death permanently tainting the burrow he once called home. Rabbits were easy prey and berries were more than plentiful, but he missed the fish his mother used to catch for him as a child-feeding him the meat cooked over a handmade fire whilst he braided tiny wildflowers of lavender, gold, and blinding white into her flaxen locks and around her fennec-ears. Though six years had passed, he still left flowers by her grave near the lakeside seven miles away from his hunting grounds every spring. As of now, the lake was frozen solid.
The tod had visited it this evening, finding it to be the area where hares were most commonly found in late December. Rabbits were fine and all, but hares were larger and kept the silver fox full for longer than their smaller counterparts. By some stroke of luck, he caught one near a freshly fallen pile of snow. The woodland creature was quick on its feet, bounding away and underneath snow in an attempt to burrow far from his reach. Though he couldn't catch it in his usual form, he could easily snatch it up when bearing his fully animalistic form.
Grey ears twitched iinquisitively beneath the falling flakes as Ciel began the long journey from his hunting spot to his temporary den. 'It will be time for a new den and nest soon' the hybrid mused to himself, grasping the fluffy white ears of his dinner with now-human hands, wiping blood from his lips and chin with his other palm. Oh, how he missed putting his fangs to good use; most prey he could seize with his claws even with the hands of a mortal. He licked the crimson smudge from the back of his hand and off the pads of his fingers, purring happily at its taste. Delectable. His expression of contentment evaporated once his den was in sight, however, and he immediately became more vigilant. Inhaling deeply in search of strange scents or lurking dangers, alert eyes of aquamarine and moonstone scanned the premises warily. Catching nothing to indicate a threat, his shoulders slumped from their tense posture.
Though the vision in his right eye had been damaged since birth, leaving him with only a sliver of sight remaining in the milky pupil, his hearing more than made up for the impairment. Pulling the cloak crafted from an elk's ashen pelt more tightly around his shoulders, Ciel knelt at the entrance of his den, built within a cave-like structure beneath a tiny hill, partially covered by fallen trees and frozen piles of leaves. It was small, but it was cozy, and more than big enough for his nest once the walls widened passed the entrance. Built of feathers, pine, leaves, and the pelts he'd amassed from his kills, laid his nest in the furthest corner, soft and welcoming after a long day of hunting and mapping out the distant reaches of the woods in which he called home. Its relatively miniscule size and hidden opening also helped to mask the scent of fertility when he became plagued by the week he dreaded most. Hunting became impossible during those times due to both his nest-bound state and the danger of being out in the open with his increased pheromones; it would without a doubt attract unwanted predators with intentions of breeding. His heat would be upon him in just a month and already his natural musk was gaining the faintest twinge of sweetness, proved by the heightened aroma from his wrists.
Groaning when he caught the familiar hints of honey, he dropped his wrist from his nose and retrieved the knife gifted to him by his mother from its place near his nest. Studying it's silver blade and oak carved handle, he wiped traces of dirt from it with the edge of a beige animal skin before deeming it worthy of use. Carrying it along with his still-furry dinner to the patch of dirt outside of his den where the bluenette had piled sticks for a fire, he began to skin the hare, setting aside its pelt to be washed and woven with his growing collection of rabbit furs and thin vines for a new blanket.
His bare knees met the ground, modesty protected by nothing more than a short loin-cloth and the the fur cloak draped over his shoulders and back. Setting aside the skinned mammal, he clicked together two slabs of flint, watching them spark and catch on the thin strips of wood, igniting with a hushed crackle. Sliding his prey onto a spit, he sat back, patiently awaiting his meat to finish cooking. Though he could consume raw meat, he preferred a warmer meal during the cold months to stave off the chill from the icy wonderland surrounding him. The petite male took his time licking and picking the last dredges of dried blood from beneath his claws. He couldn't wait until the spring when he would once again be able to bathe without the ominous threat of freezing to death. How he despised winter... Whereas his arctic counterparts thrived under such conditions, he found no joy in the cold. Gazing towards the barren trees stretching far and wide above his territory, he pulled a small sachel of mixed berries from their resting place, buried in a shallow hole behind a circle of rocks; popping one into his mouth, he chirped happily. Black berries, if he'd remembered the name correctly, were his favourites of the various fruits collected in the white cloth, and he cherished each one he plucked from their bag, the rich and flavorful juice exploding in his mouth with each puncture from his deadly fangs. A perfect meal indeed.
It was the most peaceful evening he'd had the pleasure of enduring in weeks, what with the feeding frenzy other creatures went into in preparation for winter. Now, with half of the forest's beasts hibernating, there wasn't much competition in his division. In fact, he'd yet to see any predators aside from himself. But that was soon to change... Removing his food before it had the opportunity to char, Ciel picked a strip of meat from the brittle bones it incased, chewing thoughtfully. Satisfied with the outcome, he raised it to his lips to tear it straight from the bones with his teeth rather than his claws, slate tail swishing and ears flicking with excitement. Nothing warmed and settled one better than a hot meal by the flickering fireside.
Soon, the hare was picked dry, it's remains cast side for the buzzards to feast on, and the fire smothered out by snow and dust. The moon was high in the partially clouded sky, snow coming to a halt and temperature dropping lower with the setting of the sun. As the gusts of wind grew harsher and the far off cries of coyotes became audible, Ciel left his makeshift camp and huddled into his den. His knife was set aside and his knees pulled to his thin and chilled chest as he wrapped himself in layers of furs, some having belonged to skunks, caribou, and countless other large woodland creatures - some he couldn't even remember by name. While it would be warmer to bear the coat his animal form possessed, it took more energy to shift than it did to remain in his natural form while he rested for the night. He supposed it wouldn't have been as much of an issue keeping his goosebump-riddled flesh heated though. His ears drooped drowsily as his tail curled around his thighs and over the top of his shins, lashes kissing his chilled, cherry cheeks as he began to drift off into dreams of warmer days and the blossoming of spring flowers.
He didn't sleep for long. An unfamiliar entity had invaded his territory, and he could sense it the second the stranger stepped foot near his den, setting off warning sirens inside his head. Bolting up with narrowed eyes and fangs bared, the fox glowered at the entrance of his home, tracing the vague outline of someone roughly four feet away from where his fire had burned. The being's figure was hazy and distorted by the mist claiming the frozen ground, but Ciel could smell him. None of the Earth's natural scents could wash away the heady stench of the man, as he could now see from his silhouette-hips and girth barely covered by a drape of red fur. That coat... It couldn't be...
The crunch of snow could be heard beneath the man's feet, caving in under the weight of heavy steps and melting away with every sliver of heat his body produced. Ciel initially expected the creature to turn away upon finding no scraps left behind or scurrying wildlife; he drew nearer instead. An ebony tail swayed softly as he took languid strides, large, black ears twitching as a sharp inhale and a deep, reverberating purr permeated the air. "Ahh, such a lovely scent... You didn't truly think you could hide from me, did you, little fox?"
Crimson eyes caught beneath the moonlight with an eerie, unnatural glow, as deep as blood and sparkling like the most exquisite of garnets. They were beautiful, dangerous. A pink tongue flicked across canines more knife-like than his own, saliva shining in the same pale blue light that illuminated the snow-white face. Jagged ebony claws scraped over the tree trunk closest to his den, tapping the bark in a maddeningly precise pattern: Scratch, click, click; scratch, click, click.
A shiver crawled up Ciel's spine and his muscles tensed into a defensive stance, a snarl lingering behind tightly grit teeth, patiently waiting to be unleashed. His body was wrapped in an unseen darkness as he shut his eyes, cracking and shifting of bones faintly heard as his creamy skin was replaced by a salt and pepper dusting of slate, white, and black fur; elegant fingers morphing into small paws bearing sharp claws. Calculating eyes stared on as the hybrid opposite of him stopped dead in his tracks, dropping into a low kneel with a dark chuckle falling effortlessly passed his lips; both enchanting and cruel in the same instance. The orbs he once saw from a distance were now directly in front of him, appraising the smaller animal carefully. He didn't seem disappointed in what he saw, unlike the tod who was now glaring with an intense hatred and growling in warning. He wasn't the most powerful of animals in these woods, but he was quick witted and could easily use his claws, his best defense mechanism, to scar those pretty eyes if needed. "How precious. You're ever so tiny, yet you truly believe you can take me, don't you?" The only response he earned was an aggressive yelp, sounding twice as the taller man inched closer. "I see you aren't willing to shift on your own... What a pity, I shall have to assist you then."
Disregarding the fangs snapping wildly at his long fingers, the onyx-tailed creature was faster, the pads of his index and middle finger pressing into the back of Ciel's neck harshly. With the pressure point being prodded so suddenly, he had no chance to cover it, whimpering at the ache as it spread throughout his slowly-transforming body. The moment he was mostly human once more, however, his sharp canines were plunged into his enemy's forearm. The man merely sighed with a put-out expression. "You're not very good at this whole attacking thing, are you? I am twice the height and weight of you, little vixen, you stand no chance." Retracting his fangs from the stranger's person, Ciel cleaned his teeth with a single swipe of the tongue, licking away the crimsom essence as if he were a child eagerly lapping up remnants of sugar from his palm, savouring what little blood be drew with the action. A single brow then twitched in mounting irritation. "You bastard! How dare you cross my territory and touch me without my explicit permission to do so!" Ciel hissed, ears pricking forward and tail tucking betwixt his thighs. "And what audacity you have! You will not call me 'vixen' again if you wish to live, I'm not a female!" Lashing out when the other simply smirked, the bluenette raised his hand as if to strike, only to be hastily apprehended. His thin wrists were caught and imprisoned in a single palm-a warning snarl making him slink back with a whine, ears lowering and bending back in submission.
"Easy now, omega. You wouldn't want to anger a wolf, now would you? They have a nasty habit of taste testing creatures such as yourself, and you do smell rather delicious..." Though Ciel's blood was spiked and boiling with equal parts fear and anger, there was an ounce of reluctant curiosity residing there as well. Though he couldn't place why, this man smelled like Ambrosia to him... But as handsomely sculpted and pleasantly scented as the creature may be, there were three facts the vulpine was sure of that made him sink against back wall of his den with a horrible sense of foreboding: He was a wolf, he was an alpha, and he himself was the prey the wolf had been tracking.
