~. ~. ~.
Arielle is immensely enjoying herself, laughing to the cheesy jokes of the men gathered as she drinks from what seems to be a horn, or in this case—goblet.
Fallon sits beside her on one of the benches. The wind is in their braids and the moonlight kisses their faces as they listen to tales of Lykae tribes and the genealogy of Mooners.
Arielle is so shocked to find out she never would have known any of this if Aaron hadn't come into her life. She sighs and takes a sip of her 'ale' as they listen to yet another tale.
It's a blonde Shifter-male who speaks up,
"Her name was Valerie and she was a Shieldmaiden," he begins, and the entire crowd falls silent.
"...She was as beautiful as they come. Golden locks that shone like the Sun. Skin the color of whitest snow."
The man stands and climbs a table, spurred on by the eagerly listening throng.
"She rode upon the daintiest horse, and fucked the largest men..."
At this, the people burst into laughter and a couple of men hail.
"Alas, Valerie; Shieldmaiden of the Lykae tribes died in battle, her teeth in the neck of Egor, King of Lyre."
There is a moment of silent pause, where everyone stares at the narrator, entranced.
The next, everyone is clapping and some women stand to their feet. Some men also stand and deliver brotherly pats to his back. The Blonde slowly sits and takes a long swig at his goblet.
Arielle reclines on the bench and smiles at Fallon. This is so surreal. Different from her life of meetings and magazines. This is her. Living and laughing. Amongst her kind. The SilverMoon Shifters.
A calm falls over the throng once again and a couple of men stand and leave. There are hushed whisperings and Arielle wonders what's happening.
Few moments later, Aaron climbs down the Cabin steps followed closely by the men who had left earlier, and Arielle actually has to look away in order to slow her breathing.
Some men stand at his arrival but he immediately waves them down.
Aaron is by far the most sexually appealing man Arielle had ever seen. His silver hair hangs to his waist in a single braid. The strands catch the incandescent moonlight and they seem to glow, moving in tune to the winter breeze.
His eyes glow amber as he walks to the tables and Arielle can't look away. He isn't dressed as a warrior. Rather, he is dressed as a simple Viking might have dressed. In a simple, white flowing gown. He actually is more of a Priest.
Arielle watches him sit with the throng as torrid imaginations flood her mind and swamp her body. Her hand goes to her thigh but she immediately clenches her fingers, willing them to stay still.
The rest of the night is full of laughter and warm reverberations of Old country tunes. By the time the moon is slowly slipping down the fringes of the tallest canopies, the longtables and benches lie empty. Distant howls are heard down Mount. Blackbone as the Shifters slowly make their way home, either as human or as wolf.
~. ~. ~.
Arielle bends over a table and fills out her journal with the memories of the 'Winter feast'. She signs off at the end of the page, closes the book and proceeds to the kitchen.
She holds a cup below the tap and watches the water run. The glass is halfway to her lips when she spots him.
Her Dream and Mystery. Her Obsession.
Aaron.
He stands at an open window and peers beyond, at the darkness of the forest and for a moment, he looks lonely.
"Aaron?" Arielle starts.
He turns back to her and she shivers.
His eyes are an intense slate-gray.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to....." Arielle falters in her speech as he walks to her.
He stops in front of her and stands almost a foot taller.
He peers down at her body and she follows his eyes. She immediately folds her hands over her chest. Arielle didn't think anyone would still be awake so she'd worn only a cotton T-shirt and black lace panties.
She watches as his eyes rake over her folded hands to her belly, her hips, then to her legs, darkening with every inch he sees.
"Make a choice," he rumbles, his deep voice settling over her hot flesh.
She knows what he means—either leave now and go to bed, or stay and have me fuck you like an animal.
Her choice makes itself.