Invited in or forced to participate, travelers in the Labyrinth were an infrequent occurrence as it was. Those who chose to enter Hannibal's woods were even rarer still. To manage coming this far in the game meant either the traveler was very intelligent and clever, or ridiculously lucky. The former would have the sense to avoid Hannibal's woods altogether in that case. The latter would typically find that their luck had finally run out if they decided not to mind their manners. The trees would tell on them if they were discourteous.
Usually, the ones who walked through the wendigo's permanent night alight with fungus stars of eerie blue and greenish gold nebulas of foxfire mists were desperate. Fear made beings rude and Hannibal so despised the rude.
It was why the faun stood out in Hannibal's mind all the more. Yes, Will could be viewed as desperate in his own way. That being said though, Hannibal had never seen another being, besides himself of course, respond to food in such a manner. It had been an intense reaction to such a small sampling of a poor feast. The sweet scent of arousal had been an unexpected as well, but welcome.
Between that odor and the alluring noises the faun had made, Hannibal had been drawn back to his most recent kill, a ill fated messenger of Jareth's and one the Goblin King must have not cared for much. Hannibal never sent messages, or the messengers, back.
Not only was the faun unusual in manner, but his appearance was just as unique, almost pretty in a way. Fauns, even the dusky skin toned ones, tended to have light colored fur. Jack and Bella were the most striking pair of the herd, having bright silver fur while Beverly sported burnt gold. The other fauns ranged from dappled soft earthen tones and even bright red in Freddie's case.
In comparison, Will stuck out like a strip of night trying to sneak into day with his dark fur. The faun's legs were covered in black brown fur the same shade as the loose curls that covered his head, making his skin look paler than it actually was. Though fauns had a perpetual youthful look and air about them, their faces unlined with the ravages of time and their human torsos hairless and well toned, Will still managed to carry this heavy soberness in his skin and eyes.
Or so Hannibal had observed from the safety of his woods, moving along the fringe of its borders in order to catch any glimpses of the strange faun. It was easier than expected for Will didn't seem to keep company well with his herd. He would often wander off to the more shaded recluse areas of streams and fish out minnows there, eating the tiny fish quickly with darting eyes and shaking hands.
To a certain extent, spying was unnecessary Hannibal realized much to his delight. Will kept sneaking back into his woods, despite the danger of it. Feeling such strange joy, Hannibal would walk beside the faun without him knowing it, the wendigo hiding with and in shadow seamlessly to keep other lesser predators and fae away from his faun.
Such an intrusion into his claimed space would usually be dealt with in a prompt and often violent manner, but Hannibal's claws were stayed as the wendigo dwelled on his visitor's reasons for being here. It wasn't hard to figure out. Though inexperienced, the faun was hunting. Will probably didn't even know he was doing such a thing, the wendigo realized as he watched the faun scent the air and stalk silently through the underbrush.
As foolish as Will's motivations were, Hannibal found his strange new company interesting. He'd had prey fight back before. That was to be expected, but nothing had ever landed the first blow before upon him. If Will had actually been something impressive, his attack might have been wounding. As it was, the head butt had only been startling, hardly even leaving a red mark on Hannibal's belly for more than a few minutes.
Secondly, Hannibal had never had anyone ask his name before. It was such a simple common courtesy that no one seemed able to remember to do in his presence. So much brutality could be avoided by offering up that small politeness, and yet it had only been a silly faun who had done so.
If Hannibal had to admit a fault of his, he would ignore the elephant in the room dressed up as pride and say his curiosity. Which was the motivation as to why he was back in their clearing, and it was Will and his clearing now, tearing apart a harpy with his talons. The wendigo could feel the faun watching him, quiet and hidden as a worm in a wall.
Surprisingly, Hannibal rather like the idea of someone studying him, perhaps even admiring his work. Feeling oddly motivated to please, Hannibal made the kill as showy as possible, dispatching the harpy in a bone and blood mist that painted the clearing red as he sent bits and pieces flying everywhere. By the time Hannibal was done, the flora dripped with crimson dew and was dusted with a fresh snowfall of feathers, making the forest groan aloud in its sleep as it accepted the new nightmare painted upon it before settling back into soft snoring.
Satisfied, Hannibal pretended to leave, the wendigo climbing trees easier than any creature with cloven hooves should. From his perch, Hannibal watched with bated breath as the fawn emerged from his hiding. Tentative and wary, it took time, but soon enough Will was lured out. The gift Hannibal had left him was far too tempting not to.
Like before, the faun seemed to enjoy himself with blood alone, dipping his delicate fingers into the harpy's lost life to suck it off, and licking the wet crimson off leaves, grazing on death. Hannibal found himself captivated by that quick pink tongue darting out from between plush lips. It was clever in its movements, working its slick length around slim fingers and leaf alike.
The noises the faun was making were just as alluring as the movements of his mouth, strange soft sounds of shallow breathing, desperate and almost panting. It was pitched low and sweet enough that Hannibal had to move in closer to hear every note, the wendigo descending light as any spirit a few feet away from the faun. He was hard pressed to remember anything else he'd heard that was sweeter than the faun giving himself over to pleasure.
From what he could tell, blood did little to quench the little one's thirst though for long, the faun gaining courage enough to start trying out the meat. Shredded pieces of flesh were picked up off the ground were they had been flung to be thoroughly nibbled upon before swallowed down. Will was panting audibly now by the time he finished those, his cock no longer hidden by his fur.
Wanting to end the distance between them but knowing that would finish this encounter in an unpleasant manner, Hannibal held himself back, but just barely as the wendigo used his power to edge in as close as he dared. Near enough to touch, to cut, to wound, but also to scent, Hannibal curving himself over the faun to luxuriate in his odor.
Fauns were such delicate creatures in Hannibal's opinion, with their blunted teeth, tiny horns, and weakness for matter of the flesh and food. Will smelled of the meadow, full of its hateful sunshine and open fresh air. Underneath all that though was the feverishly sweet scent of fear and a hunger Hannibal was well familiar with. It only grew more intense as the faun went for the literal heart of the matter, his finger clenching down on the lump of ruined organ.
Bending over the heart like someone was going to take it away from him, Will clutched it in his hands, staining everything inch of his skin down to his forearms with sticky red. When his teeth sank into the harpy's heart, Will fell to his knees, overcome by it all as his hips languidly moved in time with his chewing. Spreading his thighs wide apart to accommodate himself, the faun came untouched, desperately feeding upon another's heart. With the faun's spent looking like pearls set flush with rubies, Hannibal fell out of lust and straight into love.
Covering in blood now, the faun laid back, exhausted from all his efforts. On his back with spine still arched in pleasure, Will looked like an offering, one that Hannibal was tempted to take right there and then with his sex feeling too hard and heavy between his legs. It could be ignored for now though, Hannibal making himself only watch as the faun took deep breathes in and out to make his sides shudder and heave. His skin shone, slick with sweat that mingled with blood to smell strangely floral to the wendigo, like star jasmine tainted with copper.
As much as he wanted to flip Will onto his belly and drive himself into the tight heat he knew would be there, Hannibal let the faun depart unmolested and unharmed, the wendigo making sure of that. From the sanctity of his shadows, Hannibal watched as Will bathed himself in a small brook that ran near the woods. The wendigo considered it a travesty as the faun lost his new colorings, though he did admire the way water clung to Will's skin and hair, curling the latter into ringlets.
Satisfied that Will was safe now that he was out of the woods, Hannibal returned to the clearing until he came to the place where Will had lain. Crouching down, the wendigo scented the ground, savoring the salt left behind by the faun. Pearlescent drops of cum were collected up by Hannibal's tongue, the wendigo reveling in the faun's essance as he rubbed himself against the ground, rolling about to get what he wanted. The need to mark was strong, Hannibal feeling oddly desperate to know just how their scents would smell like mixed together.
Sighing into the dirt and ignoring the tree waking up long enough to chuckle at him, Hannibal knew the faun would be back. When Will returned, Hannibal would be ready for him.
OoOoO
TBC