(All right, guys, this is something completely random that came to me while I was at work a few days ago so I jotted it down while I was on break. I would have put it up that day, but I needed to edit it, and plus the computers were monitored so that wouldn't have been good…anyways, just make sure and review for me, since it's my first actual one-shot. gasp Total shocker, I know, but just tell me what you think of it. Me? I honestly don't know what I was on. Maybe it was something in the fountain machine…)
Shadows cast by the flickering orange tongues of fire danced along the sandy beach, hidden in places by the larger shadows from the pair sitting before its warmth. No words were spoken by either of the two, their eyes speaking volumes without a sound being made. Two emerald green eyes, alight with fire and amusement, met with the softer brown doe eyes of his companion, hers rather more nervous than his.
One tan, calloused hand came up, brushing a lock of silky black hair from the green eyes. A slim, paler hand repeated the gesture for the long brown tresses attempting to cover the doe eyes. They were an unlikely pair, this wolf and this doe, this man and this woman. Yet never before had any as different felt for one another as these two did. The silence was not strained, but peaceful; not tense, but calm. It was a silence the two were driven to more by necessity than choice, otherwise their secret midnight meeting by the fireside could be compromised by some wandering soul that heard their words and discovered them.
A slight shift from the man, his lean, muscled flanks sliding along the log closer to the woman. She made no move toward or away, pretending the quiet had not been shattered by the soft, rustling sound. Lips twitching in an unmistakable grin, the wolf made another shift. The doe again gave no notice. In what felt like an instant he was beside her, long legs stretched out nearly touching the fire with his boots, while hers were curled up close to her seat. She still paid him no mind.
That calloused hand drifted down, resting on the thigh of the woman. The doe sighed ever so softly, finally glancing up as she knew he longed for her to do. The twitching had ceased, a full grin now gaping wide on his lips. His eyes flashed with a feral hunger, a pink tongue coming out to glide across his full lips for a moment, a signal to the woman. It was a signal she well recognized. Her legs uncurled as she came to her feet, eyes widening ever so slightly, as they always did when this game was played. Slowly, the hell of one boot dragged through the sand, flattening. The other moved to do the same. His grin never wavered, that look never fading.
His hand drifted down to brace against the wooden log he sat upon. His doe had already begun to run, feet slow in the soft, sinking sand. She would be allowed to reach the grass, as always, before he moved to give chase. He stood, kicking sand over the fire with one boot. His eyes never left the back of his woman as she tore along the beach. She sped up, now upon firm ground, running through the grass to the trees. The wolf stepped around the log calmly, appearing to be in no hurry. He didn't have to be. He was the man Wolf, by name and by nature. She was his nimble deer by nature alone, her true name being far more matching to her looks, his darling, fleet-footed Ivory.
Wolf sauntered along the beach calmly, enjoying the salty sea air immensely. In no time he was on the grass, the scent of his woman still strong along the path he tread. He picked up speed a little, dodging between the trees with relative ease as he followed the trail of his doe. Crushed leaves where her feet had stepped, trembling branches where she had ducked and weaved. It was easy enough to follow. Along and along he slowly grew faster, wanting to catch sight of her among the foliage, behind some bushes, just beyond his reach. The taunting glimpses he caught during the chase always made the catch more exciting.
There, in the distance, he saw her, head raised, listening for his approach. The moonlight danced in her hair and in her eyes, highlighting her form in the gap between two trees for a moment. She must have heard him, for she whirled and vanished in the night, the hem of her skirt snagging for a moment on a branch. Wolf darted after her, leaving the tiny scrap for the birds, knowing his true prize did not lie in bits of clothing or collections of mementos. His footsteps were light and quiet. The less she heard of him, he knew, the closer she would allow him to come before she went scurrying away once more. Only when he could manage perfect silence could he catch her and make her his in every sense of the word.
For several hours they played this game, each time the space between them growing smaller. It was nearly dawn before finally Wolf managed to attain the utter quiet he sought, slipping around his doe so that when she finally heard his creaking steps she turned to run straight into his warm, strong embrace. She made no struggles, no frenzied writhing. She wanted to be captured as much as he longed to capture her, after all. Instead, her arms came up around his neck, her face burying itself in his shoulder. One arm remained around her shoulders while the other went under her knees, lifting her bridal style into his arms. Usually they would return to the beach now to rekindle their fire and spend the rest of their night together there. But tonight, Wolf decided to make a permanent change.
Ivory knew immediately that something was amiss when his sure-footed tread did not take them back toward the beach. But she did not question him. She could never question her wolf. Instead, she raised her head a bit to watch as he carried her out of the woods. To her horror, she realized they were moving in the direction of his village. She squirmed a little, letting him know she did not approve, and his response was a subtle tightening of his arms around her, soothing her fears with his strength.
Not a soul stirred as they approached, all asleep in their homes. Had they known that through their quiet streets the silent woodsman they all knew passed through with the nimble wood fairy in his arms, they surely would have awoken, pouring into the streets to watch and whisper and chatter together. But, luckily enough for the star-crossed lovers, they slept on, and so the two were spared for yet one more day.
Passing through the shadows, Wolf clutched Ivory close, nuzzling her neck comfortingly when a dog in the darkness loosed a low growl and made her tense, frightened. He was her protector, her lover, her wolf. He existed only for her.
Finally they came to the end of the street, where Wolf's own small home sat, unused since his departure earlier that evening. Kicking open the door, he passed through it with his doe in his arms and then closed it with the heel of his boot behind them.
(This was, as I said, completely random and written while on lunch break at the hospital where I volunteer. Review, please, and tell me what you think of it!!)