Spirits of the Earth

[ Warnin'! There be blood and rape and... uh... Kidnapping... and psychological stuff. Not to much in detail, but, it's there, and this is a warning. XP So don't read it if you have a problem with any of that! ]

Cold. Holy damning crap was it cold. Jaks had his hood down, his long pointed ears poking up past his head, the ear tips pink from the cold. The fluff from his good framed his rosy face and he cursed his reflection in a store window. All this cold was making his cheeks and lips red, and he moved a gloved hand to rub at his face and smack some heat into it.

Upside to being a male elf. He could hear well and was rather dexterious with his digging.

Downside to being a male elf. He looked like a goddamned chick anyway.

Jaks felt an eyebrow twitch as he shuffled through the snow to get to the bloody Inn. Jaks shuffled backwards to look at its name, then snorted in disgust when the name was covered by icicles and snow. Of course it was. This was Hyoite. This wouldn't Hyoite if there was a lick of warm sunshine or if something wasn't covered in snow. Only good thing that was happening right now was that it wasn't snowing and there was no wind.

Though, the young archeologist wished he'd kept his hood on. After he'd pushed it off he'd fallen down and filled it with snow. No way was he going to plunk that on his head. Shuffling back through the snow of evil doom, he pushed open a door to the Inn and was greeted with noise, warmth and light.

"Oh, thank gods."

He'd been here about four hours earlier, before the dinner rush. It was chillier, quieter and dimmer. Must be a popular place, this nameless Inn. Jaks removed his jacket and shook off the snow outside the Inn quickly before entering, his long sleeved white shirt stuck to his back from when the small bits of snow fell down his coat.

" I hate snow." Jaks muttered before pushing his messy brown hair out of his face and hanging his coat up on a free hook by the door. What he wanted now was alcohol and food. Then he'd be off again to relieve the workers he'd left. He had three hours. A forlorn noise and Jaks closed his eyes before wandereing towards the bar in another part of the Inn.

The bartender took one look at Jaks before plunking a small glass of whiskey before him and calling an order to the kitchen. He shot the whiskey, giving a rediclous face in the process and shuddering before pressing his elbows to the bar and pushing his hair out of his face.

The bartender plunked down another shot. Jaks grabbed in and slammed the small glass on the table after sighing and stretching. The tables behind him were full, but the seats beside him were empty and all the bartender was doing was filling the little elf up with booze. "Back outside in three hours. Can't get me drunk, Mr.Bartender." he mused aloud before pressing his elbow to the table and smooshing his head onto it.

Snow.

Blegh.

There were two reasons he actually liked Hyoite. The cold, because it didn't bother him and it didn't make him uncomfortable. And the small influx of people. Those that frequented Hyoite either knew of him, and kept their distance, or they didn't but got the vide from those that did... and so kept their distance. This was as much of a home as he'd allow himself, and S'ric didn't want bothered when he was here. Only when he came to the inn was he open to company. It was where potential employers knew where to find him. Usually by the time someone sought out S'ric for a bounty, they were desperate, willing to pay quite a bit, and that overrode the urge to stay away from the man. As anyone with any sort of brain power would be able to quickly pick up on.

Not only was he physically intimidating at over 6 and a half feet tall, but there were blizzards with more warmth than his eyes. S'ric looked like he belonged in Hyoite more than anyone simple because he matched the decor. White hair, pale blue eyes, lack of tan... even his coat was a cooler shade of blue. He looked no older than mid-twenties if one were to take a quick, brief look. Though the weight of many centuries could be felt in his gaze. He was as much a part of the scenery here as the blizzards, snow, and cold. Those around here knew what to expect from him, and in that, there was an easy truce. They left S'ric and his business alone, and he 'behaved'. His actual home was set some distance from the village, and no one bothered that stretch of territory. Or at least, no one did that was aware a very territorial werewolf had claimed it for his own. There was a small cabin set up, with his very minimal personal effects, and what constituted as his private home. Only a handful had seen it, and none of them were happy about it. It'd been roughly 50 years since S'ric had found another favorite though. That generally made some people around him a little more skittish. A S'ric with someone to go back to was a generally content werewolf.

So when he entered the inn, there was a brief lull in the conversation. Just like a collective intake, minute... it'd be missed if one wasn't paying attention. He took a moment to survey the crowd, attention passing over everyone to assess whether they were new, whether they were interesting, and who might be potential employers. Nothing too interesting. A lot of regulars. The tables were even filled, which meant most of them were trying to get out of the cold for the evening. Before returning home.

He made his way through the crowd and toward the bar. Where an unfamiliar face happened to be. Well, well. S'ric claimed a stool on one side, leaving an empty one between them. The bartender said not one word before pouring S'ric a glass of vodka, straight. The man neither made eye contact nor lingered enough to fulfill any more orders for the elf so close to S'ric.

The moment of silence had Jaks blinking and tilting his head. Not paying attention to it kept him from turning around to actually look at what made it quiet. He just focused on his empty glass, fingers tracing the top of it while he waited for his food. Which he would continue to do for a while yet. Watching from the corner of his eye, he pursed his lips and frowned deeply once the strange man beside him got his drink and the bartender... Ran away?

Jaks frowned and poked at his own small glass, tapping the side of it with a nail. His cheeks and ears still red from the cold. Two minutes. The bartender had been hovering just a moment ago, but when the big scary guy popped up, Poof Goes the Bartender. Unfair. Jaks remained calm though. Five minutes. Jaks politely cleared his throat before he turned towards the man sitting beside him, resting a knee on the empty chair between them.

Green eyes were narrowed and he glared.

"Okay. I've been out in the snow all damn day and I want some food, you pop up and" Jaks hands went up to do a lame game of 'jazz hands.' " Bartender screws off." He leaned in to glare. "Now, I'm going to blame this on you because I'm sure as hell not a giant scary man-beast."

Which he was going to regret later. His mouth ran away with him. Tired, hungry, pissed off and full of whiskey - which was going to do a better job since not only was he intolorant to alcohol, he had no food in his stomach - he just leaned and glared. Jaks could see how large this man was. A good foot taller than he was at least. His hands looked massive and Jaks took a moment to look at his own, he didn't have feminine hands but they looked down right girly when he looked back at the weird mans.

Okay. Calm down. " So. For ruining my night, you can buy my meal for me," Jaks flashed a sarcastic smile, "Or, you can move. 'Cause you're scaring away the bartender. " His sarcastic smile turned into a sneer and he haunched over his empty glasss, his finger tapping at it again. Oh.. Damn. This guy could smoosh his skull with a single hand. Licking his lips and closing his eyes briefly, Jaks kept up the bravado and glared towards the huge stranger.

He was going to regret this. Good thing though, he had to leave into the snow again, and if this guy was sane, which Jaks was counting on, that would be that and Jaks would be free of the scary giant guy.

S'ric took a small sip of the alcohol. He'd had it enough it was more like water now. There wasn't much of a taste, nor was there a burn. Why bother with the drink? Because he drank whatever the bartender served. Sometimes it was vodka, sometimes whisky, and others water. He wasn't picky, paid the same, and only ever had one glass. S'ric only planned on being around long enough to finish the glass, then he'd go hunting, and retire... What's this...

He'd not been paying enough attention, so he'd missed when the new comer had cleared his throat. But now it seemed not only was the elf... talking to him... but glaring. And upset. S'ric glanced to the side, ice blue eyes settling on the elf as he... proceeded to rant. At him. About the gods only knew what. For the briefest of moments, while S'ric stared, those in the immediate area stared as well. Clearly they thought the elf was crazy. No one yelled at S'ric. No one blamed him for anything... and no one demanded anything of him. If the bartender had been keeping his distance before, he was now thoroughly engrossed in cleaning the farthest corner of the bar with a fervor that bordered on obsessive.

S'ric blinked once. If he'd heard anything at all, it didn't register on his face. And when the elf leaned in, still glaring, S'ric seriously contemplated pinning him to the floor and showing him what happened when you snapped at someone bigger than you. The werewolf slowly let go of his glass when it seemed the little elf was done. They were rapidly becoming the center of attention to those in the bar, though no one openly stared. Just keeping an eye out, waiting for S'ric to snap. He was about to say something, but oh, this little elf was not done.

" So. For ruining my night, you can buy my meal for me. Or, you can move. 'Cause you're scaring away the bartender. "

S'ric took a long moment, letting silence fall between them and in the immediate space around them, while he considered the elf. He was slender, which did appeal to S'ric. The eyes were expressive, and while the hair wasn't something too extraordinary, his personality was more than making up for it. Was S'ric curious? Oh yes. Was that a bad thing for the elf? Hell yes. It'd been awhile, 50 years, since the wolf in S'ric had found someone that made it stir. And this snappy elf seemed to fit the bill. As far as S'ric was concerned, he'd just found a new possession. With what would pass for consideration for those around him, he didn't drag Jaks to the floor then and there. He'd let him eat. First. And people said S'ric wasn't considerate.

With a smile that would've frightened a polar bear, S'ric murmured, "Fair enough. A meal it is." Jaks didn't know what that meant, but everyone around him did. So it had seemed S'ric had found someone that had captured his express attention. Despite what that would mean for Jaks, it seemed everyone around him was more... relaxed. S'ric waved at the bartender, who knew this routine. When S'ric was interested in someone, the bartender treated them with the same attention he treated S'ric. Which meant, for the rest of the evening, Jaks would get what he wanted. If the bartender seemed to feel sorry for Jaks, it'd be hard to tell.

Was silence supposed to be this loud? Jaks had good hearing, he could hear people breath, he could hear them shift in their chairs, someone in the far corner whispered something to his friend. Apparently Jaks had made a bad move if everyone was only pretending not to listen. Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap. Screw that. He wasn't from Hyoite. He had to leave soon. What did Jaks care about pissing off some Hyoite native who... Looked sort of like a blizzard.

The silence made his heart race and Jaks curled his hands into fists on the bar while he stared down. He wasn't afraid of the strange guy! He was just... Worried about getting his head smooshed. Jaks looked over to glare, pulling on his fake bravado to mask his fear of Head Smooshing and rose an eyebrow, his heart skipped a beat when he saw that smile.

He was so dead.

This guy was going to open his mouth and say something so scary, so horrifying Jaks was going to faint on the spot and be thrown outside and –

"Wait, what?" Jaks blinked, his frown slowly turning into smirked, he'd won? This guy was actually going to buy his meal for him? Jaks looked around, everyone looked a little calmer. Oh, right, he was supposed to be a tough elf. Tough guy. "I mean... Yeah... That's what I thought." Jaks leaned back when the meal was placed in front of him and he payed no attention to the bartender. The guy had flounced off and left his poor hungry customer all alone!

Horrible service.

" Wouldn't get treated like this back in Ketra." Jaks murmuered before poking food into his mouth and chewing, his green eyes flicking back towards S'ric. Still grumpy at him. Jaks had the unwilling urge to stand next to him to see if he was to his elbow or his shoulder. Jaks himself was only 5'7", almost his entire crew - who were still working out in the middle of no where - was taller than him and poked at him that the only thing bigger that he had was his ears.

Jaks swallowed his food and wiped at his mouth with a napkin. " I'm Jaks. Who are you? And... " the brown haired elf frowned slightly before poking at his food with the fork, half of it gone already. Hm. He didn't remember eating all of that. "What did you eat to get so..." Jaks waved his fork around, indicating to the strangers body " huge?"

Because Jaks wanted some. Bad enough he looked like a lady when he was covered up from the neck down, even worse that he was short for a guy and had the courage of a kitten when it came down to it.

S'ric recognized when the elf's bravado shattered around him. He was a submissive with a loud yap, and no bite. If S'ric had a preference, that was it. Enough to get him in trouble, enough that S'ric would be inclined to teach him a lesson, but not enough S'ric would kill him. There was a very fine line his favorites walked. One push too far, and S'ric would be more inclined to rend and tear than bite. Really, it was the boring ones that lucked out. He'd leave them. With no fight, no snap to his growl, they were just... too weak. He wanted enough fight to be interesting. Not enough to really make him mad.

The werewolf was aware Jaks was talking to himself, and because he was paying express attention to the elf, he heard it. Exceptional hearing and all. S'ric already knew the elf wasn't from around here, but now he had a better idea of where he'd come from. It didn't make much of a difference, Jaks wouldn't be leaving now. His wants, whims, and wishes paled in comparison to S'ric's wants. And having found someone that sparked his interest, he was more interested in dragging Jaks back to his home, shredding those cloths, and sating himself. But again, he'd wait until the elf was done eating... Just the little niceties he extended to those he was interested in.

S'ric was fine with letting silence settle between them. He never picked someone for their award winning conversation skills. But this elf seem particularly inclined to, well, talk. And exchanging names was probably a good idea. Not terribly important, but...  S'ric picked up his drink, took a sip, before turning his attention back to the elf. Jaks was the name. Feeling in a better mood now that he had something to look forward too, the werewolf answered, "Name's S'ric. And I eat whatever I hunt down." Since his eyes were already on Jaks, he let himself take stock of him again.

It was remotely appealing he was so much more slender than S'ric. Smaller. Easier to move about as he wanted, carnally a delight to mold. And if Jaks was as delicate as he seemed, it just meant S'ric would have a better time of it provoking the responses he wanted from him. Those who were easy to hurt were quicker to learn. As S'ric's cold gaze swept over Jaks body, he couldn't help but smirk a little. Wondering how long Jaks would last, wondering... a lot of different, dark things that most people did not consider when they first met someone. But for S'ric, they were now the sole purpose of Jaks.

Hunt down.

Jaks snorted. That was funny. Hunt down. What did he hunt down, snow bunnies? Snow bunnies didn't make a man a giant. Or bears. But humans were no match for bears.  He chuckled again and turned back to his meal to finish eating, the napkin balled up and placed in the middle of the plate as he pushed it aside and looked over again. The weird guy was staring at him. Jaks offered a smile that looked more like a grimace and he slid off the chair and wiped off the random crumbs he'd accidentally gotten on his lap.

Oh, look at the time! He had to go now. " Uh... S'ric." Jaks paused incase he'd gotten it wrong before continuing, " Lovely meeting you. But, I have a job to do so... Thanks for the meal, I appreciate it." He gave a lazy wave and walked towards his coat, pulling that on before pausing and lifting his hood up over his face.

That was one creepy guy. Jaks didn't turn around after he pulled his gloves on and left the Inn. He kept his head down, cursed loudly at the snow that had began to fall again and kicked at the snow in front of him, swearing. Stupid snow. " I hate the damn tundra!" Jaks barked right outside the door and kicking at the snow as he shuffled through it, his movements hindered by his large thick coat and the knee deep snow.

Thankfully that was the last he'd ever see of that guy. S'ric. Or whatever his name was. Jaks rolled his eyes, remembering how everyone avoided him. Probably some horrible murderer. Or an important Hyoite political guy. Jaks grimaced at that last idea. Would his dig be illegal right now if he'd pissed someone off?

The trail behind Jaks was rather obvious, with him shuffling through the snow instead of taking big steps. Another half hour of walking and he'd be at the camp and the next guy would come to town to grab whatever the hell they were after.

Jaks wasn't too keen on meeting the big guy again. Glad he hadn't looked back to get the big picture of how massive he was. Jaks looked up at the dark sky, that bright gray it always seemed to be when it snowed . "Please don't let that guy be an inspector or something." Jaks shook his hand at the sky before continuing to shuffle through the thick snow, occasionally losing his footing and falling to his knees to snarl and curse at the snow.

S'ric, as usual, was in no rush. There was no where that Jaks could hide, and if the werewolf could guess, the elf wasn't the sort to go gallivanting in the snow for the fun of it. With the ghost of a smile, one that could only be described as predatory, S'ric watched the elf cross the tavern, open the door, and leave. That would be the last time he did that without S'ric's consent. The werewolf downed his drink, left enough gold to cover the drinks, the meal, and then some, before he stood and moved to follow. There was a glint to his eyes that had not been there before. The thrill, in a way, that he was about to go hunt down Jaks. There was no sport in it if he just walked up and drug the elf away. Oh no.

S'ric stepped out into the cold air, feeling it play across his exposed skin. The inner warmth that came from being a shape shifter meant he was rather tolerant to the cold. That and he was used to it. As the door banged closed behind him, S'ric called to the beast within, demanding that it respond. It was sheer will that allowed S'ric to shift before the full moon. The clothes faded, his spine elongated, muzzle shooting out from his face. Black fur sprouted from his body, muscle built upon muscle, and claws grew from what had been fingers moments ago. In the span of a breath, where a man the color of snow and ice had stood, there was now a very tall, ink black wolf. He shook himself out, took a deep breath, and pricked his ears forward as he eyed the trail that Jaks had left. Almost like he wanted to be found.

His lips pulled back in a snarling grin before he tilted his head back and howled. However brief the sound, S'ric was then making his way after Jaks. While S'ric could be as silent as the grave when hunting, he made no effort to be so now. He wanted Jaks to know he was coming. It'd be the end of the life the elf had known, and it'd be something more suited to what S'ric would have of him. Whatever it'd be.

While as a wolf, S'ric was still partially human. Or as human as he ever was. It was all about the melding of the bestial side, and the human. While he was more animalistic while appearing human, so too, was he more human than any other wolf.

S'ric found him easily enough. Jaks hadn't anticipated being literally hunted down. It was too easy... and S'ric was terribly... excited... having found him again.

Jaks froze for a moment. A howl. A large wolf howl. From behind him. Which was the town. Jaks heart skipped a beat and he shuffled faster, even lifting his feet out of the snow occasionally to go faster. Or what Jaks hoped was faster. He didn't turn around, fearing that it was just his ears playing tricks on him, of course when he heard the snow crunch.

Oh... Gods.

Jaks swallowed and closed his eyes, his breath coming out in short pants as he continued to walk away. If he didn't look around, there wouldn't be anything there. If he can't see it, it doesn't exi- Face plant. Jaks pushed himself up, face still foreward, a gasping cry left his mouth and he stood up again and started to 'run.' which was just a funny hopping thing through the snow.

There wasn't anything behind him. There wasn't anything behind him.

Just hearing things.

Jaks slowed down and looked behind himself and let out a yelp. "What the hell is THAT?" He called loudly, his hood blown off by the wind as he took a step backwards and landed on his bottom in the snow. The elf would have been pale if his cheeks, ears and nose weren't bright red from the cold. "This isn't happening." Jaks whispered to himself, hands digging into the snow as he pulled himself backwards to get farther away.

Jaks voice took on a whiney tone and he dug his feet into the snow as he shuffled backwards. " First there's the freaky lady that wanted to eat me, then the giant freak in the Inn and now it's a giant.. Huge.. Wolf thing." Jaks grabbed a hand-full of snow and threw it. " What's with you damn things and wanting to eat me, huh!?" He let out a gasping breath before rolling over and standing up again to 'run' through the snow...

To promptly fall on his face. Where he laid still, panting with his head to the side and his arms to his sides. "I give up. Eat me. Head first though, I don't want to feel it." Snow sucked.

Snow sucked so hard.

S'ric had absolutely no problem running through the snow. Both the sheer power that propelled him and the long strides meant the snow provided little resistance. If there was and at all. He didn't even need to run on all four. It was almost easy. S'ric's ears were pressed flat to his skull as a gust of wind pushed at him. The cold was nonexistent when he was like this, covered in inky black fur. He was already eager enough to chase Jaks, so he let out a short howl when the elf actual tried to run. The attempt was, well, amusing. Especially when he fell. After yelling something, though the wind took the words away. S'ric answered with a snarl as he slowed. He was already catching up, no need to end it so soon.

" First there's the freaky lady that wanted to eat me, then the giant freak in the Inn and now it's a giant.. Huge.. Wolf thing. What's with you damn things and wanting to eat me, huh!?" These words were accented by him throwing snow at S'ric. The werewolf actually chuckled at the terrible offense, watching the clump of snow fall short and land several feet away. At this point, S'ric had slowed to a lazy walk. Approaching, eyeing Jaks with a sort of possessive hunger. Each exhale from the large wolf shot a blast of steam into the frigid air. Jaks got up, tried to run again... then fell.

Much to the hunter's amusement. He'd never seen something so... easily caught. S'ric licked his lips before chuckling again, the sound barely more than a growl. The werewolf couldn't speak in this form, so laughter wasn't transferred either... but he was amused. It would be so terribly... sad... if he were not claiming Jaks for his own. What would've spelled doom for anyone else was merely Jaks meeting the inevitable now.

As S'ric approached, crunching through the snow on his hind legs, he heard Jaks' admonition. "I give up. Eat me. Head first though, I don't want to feel it." He was hardly going to do that.  Crouching next to Jaks, he used one large paw to keep himself up as he leaned over and easily flipped Jaks over with the other. The man weighed nothing to S'ric now. The werewolf leaned close, inhaling Jaks' scent before chuckling softly again. The sound was low, a deep rumbling like an avalanche before his muzzle came close to Jaks' face, drawing back in a wolfish grin. Just to see what he would do.

Where was that damn elven grace he was supposed to have!?

His ears were cold, his lips were cold, his neck was cold, his nose was cold, hell, his face was cold. Screw that noise, it was the freaking tundra, if he wasn't cold, there would be something wrong with him. Jaks had wished something was wrong with him. He'd lost a glove and his fingers were frozen and red and his teeth were chattering.

Still, face down in the snow the animal would hopefully think him dead and – Nope. Jaks let out a quiet wail of dispair, turned over. Damn thing turned him over! Jaks wasn't a fighter. He wasn't a hunter, he wasn't hunted. He dug holes and studied things for a living! This wasn't fair.
"This isn't fair." he breathed quietly, looking up and staring.

Freaking. Massive.

Before it was a figure in the snow, behind a curtain of falling white flakes of evil evil doom. Maybe he could... Make it feel better? With his bare hand, Jaks slowly lifted it, his breath coming out in short pants, fingers twitching. Hopefully, having a hand bitten off didn't hurt too bad. Swallowing, Jaks pressed a hand to the top of the wolf-things muzzle and running a hand on it up between his ...

Eyes.

Those eyes.

Those same eyes had been staring at him back at the Inn.

He knew there was something weird about that guy. Should have figuered he'd turn into a giant-ass wolf thing. Suiting.

"Mother F–." Jaks clamped his teeth over his lip and quickly let his hand drop down to the snow. "It's you! You bastard! S'ric right? You scared the shit out of me and... and..." Jaks grew quiet and then drew his tongue over his lips again. "What the hell is your problem, huh? You hunted me down, right? Just eat me already." His lips drew up in a snarl and his eyebrows drew together.

This sucked.

First the guy wouldn't stop staring at him, and now he was a giant beast and practically laying on him.

" I hate the tundra. Get off of me!" Jaks hand moved to the beasts muzzle and pushed up and he slowly leaned upwards, using his elbow for leverage. Glaring openly, not at all happy with the situation.

Given how slender Jaks was, S'ric didn't want to keep him out and in the snow. He kept is attention on the elf though, amused at how he was just laying there. The werewolf fully intended on picking him up and carrying him away... but then something happened. He watched, curious, as Jaks slowly lifted a hand and actually pressed it to his muzzle. S'ric radiated heat, though he felt how cold that hand was. How very... very curious. S'ric stilled as the hand slid up his muzzle and toward the top of his head, his ears now pricked forward.

Then Jaks actually looked into S'ric's eyes. What came next was terribly unexpected... and actually made the werewolf chuckle again. Ah, so the elf had finally made the connection. The werewolf didn't move away as the elf actually began to scold him. Scold. Him. For scaring him. S'ric allowed the rant though, ignoring the words as he took a moment to gaze over Jaks again. Before licking his chops. He was more focused on Jaks sprawled out in the snow than what the man was saying, but then the hand pushed at him as Jaks tried to lean up.

That was a no-no.

S'ric's lips drew back to reveal long, deadly canines as he growled. If he'd wanted Jaks to stand, he'd have the man stand. To enforce his place of control over Jaks, S'ric actually moved over him. His powerful hind legs moved to either side of Jaks' slender body, his forepaw bracing himself next Jaks' head, though a little higher since it was almost the size of the elf's head. And rather than backing away so Jaks could sit up, S'ric leaned over him as he growled. Jaks could continue to move up, in which case his head was going to bash into S'ric's bared teeth, or he could lie back down. It was obvious what S'ric wanted him to do, and all playfulness had fled. As amusing as the brief flight had been, S'ric would not be pushed away from what he considered his.

Oops.

Jaks moved his hand back and held them up by his head as he slowly layed back down into the snow. Green eyes wide and staring at the fangs. The teeth. One was like.. The size of his ear! Jaks began to pant again, but not from the cold, but from the sheer fear that raked over his body, it made his lip tremble and his body shake.

This guy really was going to eat him.

"I don't think you'll get any bigger if you eat me." His voice was quiet, his heart racing. The moments of 'hey, I can handle this!' was long gone and the fangs made him close his eyes and lay there breathing. Okay... He could... Squirm downwards. Yeah. Jaks moved his hands down and he wiggled downwards under the wolf-thing, maybe... That was stupid.

Jaks sighed and flopped his head back. He was staring up at the chest and he simply flopped his arms upwards. "Fine. Fine. You're the big bad wolf. I'm the stupid little elf. I give up. I won't run. I'll do that submissive thing you weird animals do so you don't eat me or... Whatever. Seriously. What the hell do you want?" This was too damn weird. Jaks' fake courage was still there, of course, it was what kept him talking.

Jaks looked downwards and moved his body off to the side, that way if this guy sat he'd only break one leg instead of both of them! Wonderful!

The growling died down as Jaks laid back in the snow. Good, good. The werewolf was thoroughly pleased with the response, watching with a certain hunger the way Jaks actually shivered. He really did need to take the elf somewhere warm. Having decided to claim Jaks meant S'ric felt a little... well, a lot... responsible for him. Not to mention it was terribly obvious the elf couldn't take care of himself. He'd fallen in the snow, more than once, he was already cold... The temperature didn't bother S'ric, but that was to be expected.

His growling ceased as Jaks... squirmed in the snow. And actually ended up more beneath S'ric than he was before. The werewolf cocked his head to the side as he watched, not moving just in case he crushed Jaks rather delicate self. S'ric didn't think the elf's bone structure could withstand any amount of his weight. Of course, he should've known the elf would have something more to say. It was the talking that had gotten him here to begin with... which meant that S'ric didn't actually mind it. So long as Jaks didn't say anything to irk him. What came from the elf beneath him soothed S'ric a little more. Good. He liked it when his favorites behaved. Of course, he couldn't say anything back to Jaks because, well, he couldn't talk like this. Not that he would have anyways.

Figuring that the elf was fully aware of the situation he was in, S'ric pushed himself up and took a step back from Jaks. He took a moment to glance around, ears twisting this way and that to ensure they were still alone, before he reached down and picked Jaks up. As though the elf weighed nothing, S'ric was careful about tossing him on his shoulder. One large clawed hand kept him in place while S'ric started walking toward his den. Away from the city, and away from the direction Jaks had been going before.

Jaks gave a surprisingly manly ' hurf' when S'ric lifted him up and threw him over his shoulder. Proud of himself and his obviously manly ness, Jaks pushed himself up off of the beasts back and glared over his shoulder, his legs kicking out before standing slightly folded over. "Hey! Where the hell are you going? I'm heading the other way." Jaks licked his lips and flopped down for a while, thinking of things to say.

At least this was warm. Even if the only entertainment was watching the guys tail swish back and forth with his walking. On an odd note, Jaks was slightly depressed that he head was higher than his standing self. Leaning back up, his hands holding onto S'rics side as he tried to look over at his furry head. " I'm important! I have ancient bowls to dig up! And swords! And bones and... and.. Old things!" This was bad.

This was really bad.

He was going to be cooked before S'ric ate him. After a few more tries of flailing and trying to talk his way out of it, Jaks simply flopped, his arms hanging above his head to rest by the beast-mans bottom and his head smooshed against his back. At least this was warmer than walking, even if his ass and thighs were freezing.

Ha! Take that beast-guy! Dead weight from a tiny-elf! Jaks kept his eyes closed as his body shivered from the still cold-places. If he got out of this alive, this was the last time he'd ever go to the tundra. Ever. It was cold and full of psycho wolf-men with really blue eyes.

The werewolf wasn't in much of a rush. The cold didn't bother time, he hardly had a schedule to keep. The snow did little to deter him as he walked, one ear twisted back to listen to Jaks. Just in case he'd say something important. Which... was slim, but S'ric was giving him the benefit of the doubt. Mostly because he tended to pay attention to those he found interesting. The useless prattle about digging didn't do anything to slow him, and really, it went in one ear and out the other. Useless bits that were discarded as soon as he'd realized the elf was just talking to talk. Or that seemed to be the case.

Whet Jaks had finally decided to stop flailing, and lay as much as he was able, there wasn't much of a weight difference. A 9 foot tall werewolf was not going to be concerned about the added weight of a small elf. Maybe for a really long, extended period of time... and he was injured... and Jaks had a bunch of rocks and weights tied to him. Then, maybe he could tire S'ric out.

S'ric did pay attention when he felt Jaks shiver. The elf was still cold? What had brought him here to begin with if he couldn't do something so simple as be warm. With a soft snort of derision, his large clawed hand currently not holding on to him covered Jaks thighs. And a little of his ass. S'ric didn't want him freezing to death before he got him back. Since even his paw was not large enough to cover the space exposed to the cold, he actually slid his hand over Jaks' ass, then down his thighs, and back up. Repeatedly, sharing some of his warmth. Even as he rumbled his disapproval. If he ran through the snow, with how cold Jaks seemed to easily get, he'd freeze. Which meant going at a slower pace... or changing the position he was holding the elf. He contemplated it, but decided against it. Besides, he rather liked 'petting' the elf.

Green eyes snapped open against the beasts back and he slowly looked up, slowly turned his head downwards, pressing his forehead against S'ric's back. He froze again when he noticed the hand moved up and then back down, and it continued to do so. A hot blush stained Jaks cheeks and he stared up at the back of S'rics head.  " Hey, whoa, hey whoa, he-y." The last 'hey' was drawn out and he pressed his hands against the beasts back and glaring up, cheeks even darker red from his blush along with the cold.

" You.. You can't freaking.. Grope your meal! That's gross!" Jaks swallowed, yeah... Rather be eaten than become some... Wolf glove. Jaks closed his eyes for a moment and banished that thought from his mind even as his blush got darker. Great. This was horrible. " I appreciate the heat your hand gives off, but please stop touchin' my butt. I'm not going to freeze to death if you.. Don't touch my butt."
   
Awkward.

Snarling at him? That's fine. Scared, sure, but... The butt-touching freaked him out. Jaks felt the words drop out of his mouth before he could push them back in. " You some sort of freak or something? Kidnapping poor..." Young men? Elves? People? " Little me. And... and..." Jaks flopped back, his arms flopped, his eyes hooded and his breath slower. He gave a 'murr' type of noise before he closed his eyes and sighed.

Okay. No more fighting. All this moving upside was making him feel sick. He'd stay quiet for the rest of the trip as long as there were no bumps or swings.

S'ric paid partial attention to the protests, not that he really cared. The verbal protests never bothered him. And since Jaks didn't –do- anything to try and reinforce his desire S'ric not touch him, then they were both fine. Actions spoke louder than words. And thus far, he'd failed at running and had hardly fought when S'ric had plucked him out of the snow and tossed him over his shoulder. It's almost as if Jaks –wanted- to be dragged off.

S'ric continued to touch Jaks because, at this point, he wanted to. And since the elf belonged to him, he could.

The rest of the way to his cabin was uneventful. Chilly, since the wind was starting to pick up, and dark, since it was well... getting dark. Which was fine with S'ric. He had plans for this evening. They reached his cabin there just as it started to snow in earnest. The odds of Jaks figuring out where to go from here would be slim. S'ric's cabin was a rather small thing, or at least it was compared to most. But the werewolf didn't need a huge 'den'. He pushed the door open, stepped inside – the doorway was big enough he didn't have to duck down much- then pushed the thick wooden door shut. There were no windows inside, and it was tall enough he could stand completely upright  and not come close to the ceiling. Along one wall was his sleeping area, which was a rather large bed with a pile of furs. A bed big enough that S'ric would be able to stretch out comfortably. A fireplace was along the opposite wall, though that was more for whoever he brought back than himself. A bathtub was set in the corner by the fireplace, a table along that side, some cabinets... all the small necessities that one would need living out in the middle of nowhere. The place had been added to over the years by those he brought back. With that, he dumped Jaks on the floor, and watched him.

Jaks had his eyes closed and had drawn his hands up against his chest for the remaining journey to... Wherever he was being taken. Jaks yelped and landed on his butt, gasping and laying down quickly and shifting his hips up off the ground. "OW. What the hell?! You just killed my ass!" Jaks pressed his hands to it to rub away the pain, at least he didn't get his breath pushed out of him. That would have sucked.

No, this all sucked.

Jaks stood up, wiping the snow off of himself and cursing that the warmest part of his body was where S'ric had been petting him. Jaks blushed again and glared upwards. "What the hell is your problem!?" he barked, leaning in, his hands balling into fists. "You just.. Scare the crap out of me and.. And.. Drag me off in the wrong direction!" Jaks gave a wave of his hand and pushed his hands into his pockets and moved to walk around S'ric. "Thanks for the ride. I'm going to go back to down. See you later." He gave a flat smile and moved to attempt to push S'ric aside so he could beat on the door.

(( Faaaail >_> Sorry ))

S'ric shook himself out briefly in the time it took Jaks to orientate himself to his surroundings. However brief that was. Since he started complaining about his ass. The werewolf chuckled in that rumbly, growly way. Who would have guessed this day would be so promising. No one had been so... amusing... to the werewolf in quite a long time. He couldn't even recall the last... Which made him a little more tolerant of the elf's rambling. And by little, that meant he'd continue to put up with rants. Actions, however...

S'ric was going to shift back, to actually talk to him... but no, Jaks was doing something now. He was –glaring- at S'ric. The werewolf's ears pressed flat to his skull and a soft growl leaked from his throat. Then Jaks leaned at him, as though what he said really held any sway... or mattered. The growl was louder now, all amusement lost once more as Jaks moved around S'ric as though dismissing him.

Another no-no.

The inside of the cabin was roomy granted there was a large werewolf inside. Not roomy enough that Jaks could really get away from S'ric, and definitely not roomy enough he could get to the door unless S'ric wanted him to. And he didn't. As Jaks appeared to intend on leaving, S'ric's lips drew back in a snarl and he grabbed a hold of him. They were alone now, which meant Jaks found himself flat on his back with an angry werewolf over him in a matter of breaths. As before, his hind legs were set to either side of his body, though this time his foreclaws were pinning his arms to the wooden floor. Which was rather cold given that no fire had yet been started. S'ric didn't care whether there was a fire, but he'd found out rather quickly if he wanted to make sure his favorites didn't fall ill, then they needed the warmth. Among a plethora of other things he was willing to provide.

Ooo. Growls were bad. Jaks froze before he pushed again and then briefly closed his eyes. Oops. He did something bad. Jaks felt the ground on his back before he noticed what happened. Growls, on the bottom of this thing.

It was going to eat his face.

Jaks licked his lips and tried to move his arms, with a grunt he yanked his arms back and forth, his feet pressing against the ground to lift his back and lower torso up off the ground. The floor made his butt cold, but his jacket and single glove kept his back and hand warm. The other hand was damn cold though. For a good minute Jaks struggled, his legs moving and his hips thrusting upwards. "This isn't funny anymore! Let me go!"

Fear drew in his eyes, his lips were dry and red and his hair stuck to his face from where it go wet outside, his bright green eyes clearly angry and afraid. This wasn't fun. Jaks yanked on his arm again before glaring up. "Turn back into your human so I can kick the shit out of you!" he flung a leg upwards before slamming it back down on the ground with a loud slap of wet boot against dry ground.

At least Jaks hoped it was S'ric. No, wait. What kind of fool was he? He didn't want it to be S'ric. That guy was freaking huge! He could.... Wish it was a smaller person. A weak little human he could punch in the nose then run away from. Into the tundra. And turn into an ice cube. Jaks gave up his struggle and lay there, mouth closed and frowning, his head turned to the side and his green eyes glaring at the arm holding his down.

Hated the tundra. Loathed the tundra. Stupid freaky giants and... and... giant wolf-things.

"My butt's getting cold." He frowned and glared up, an accusing glare. It was this guys fault. Jaks paused and sighed, closing his eyes, hopefully that wouldn't translate to 'please pet it again.'

S'ric pinned him to the floor, watching him struggle as he snarled. Fits like this did not make the werewolf happy. His grip tightened on the elf. No way in hell Jaks was getting away. S'ric could smell, and almost taste, the fear and anger radiating from the elf. And because S'ric found him so amusing, he put up with the brief struggle. Most did when they were being put in their place anyways. It was expected.

Jaks' demand, "Turn back into your human so I can kick the shit out of you!" resulted in S'ric snapping close to his face. A warning, and the last he'd give before becoming more physical. There was always a brief period of adjusting. But his tolerance and patience, which was already near non existent, would only last so long. Hopefully the elf would learn before too long. S'ric would hate to have to permanently hurt him. Especially since S'ric preferred his favorites to be fully functional.

There was a small moment where Jak tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck. Now that... was motivation enough. With him pinned to the floor, and apparently starting to accept what was going on, S'ric quelled his wolf side and shifted back to his human self on top of Jaks. While he wasn't as big as his wolf self, S'ric was still tall and very strong. And luckily for Jaks, he was wearing clothes that shifted with him. His hands continued to pin the elf in place, kneeling to either side of Jaks. The elf had no chance of getting away.

S'ric knew he'd said something, but he was focused on more physical things right now. Like how very delicious Jaks looked pinned to the floor. The sight of his slender neck, bare, had been enough to trigger that want. Ignoring everything that the elf had said, S'ric leaned down to brush his lips along Jaks' jaw before moving to his neck, where he took a deep breath then nosed at the collar of his jacket. S'ric wanted lower, he wanted... ah, to bite him. His hand released Jaks so he could pull the coat and shirt to the side, exposing the part of him he wanted. With a soft, possessive growl, S'ric licked along the junction where Jaks' neck met his shoulders, before lightly biting. If the elf struggled, he'd bite harder.

Not quite the reaction he was looking for. Jaks was still a little freaked out from the jaw snapping , his head to the side. The sight of the wolf turning into S'ric - Aw, damn - and being clothed was both good at bad. Good because there was clothes, Jaks was trying not to imagine S'ric as a serial rapist, that would suck for him. Jaks would take being eaten over being raped any day. Mostly because he knew there was only one way of him being raped and it the idea of sex like that had never seemed all that appealing.

Jaks swallowed and closed his eyes, turning his head father when he felt lips against his chin. "Oh, gods." This was bad. This was really bad. He was going to get raped and he'll want to die and squirm away from this guy and... and... Jaks eyes popped open when he tongue on his neck, and one of his hands were free.

This was good! He had a hand.

A hand to - "What the fuck are you doing!?" Jaks yelped when S'ric bit him. Who bites people!? Jaks turned his head farther away and move his hand to push at the mans shoulder. "Get off, get off, get off, get off, get off!" His legs kicked out and he started to pull his head away, his other hand curling into a fist. Not cool! This wasn't cool!

He was going to eat him alive! Also not cool! "The least you can do before you eat me is kill me!" His free hand smacked at S'rics shoulders, panting now, pale and clearing freaked out.

S'ric was very, very good about ignoring people. He did so on a daily basis. Much like he did now. The werewolf was, of course, aware that Jaks was yelling about something. But that didn't matter. What did S'ric care what he said? Besides, he was rather content with biting him. There was a bit of a nudge on his shoulder where Jaks was trying to push him away. In response, S'ric bit harder and growled louder. When the elf's lower body started to flail, S'ric shifted so he was laying –on- Jaks. A much better position, actually. And even though he was flailing, S'ric was becoming rather distracted, in a very good way, as he squirmed around.

This time, S'ric heard what he had to say. Jaks seriously thought S'ric was going to eat him? Still growling in the back of his throat since Jaks had yet to relax, the werewolf released his shoulder to lick where he'd bit before running his lips back up along Jaks' neck. Beneath the smell of S'ric, and the cold, was a more earthy scent. One he rather liked. Hadn't he said something about digging earlier? Becoming more engrossed in the smell and feel of Jaks, and less concerned with... everything else, he lightly nipped at his neck. What had he been doing when he'd pulled away? Something about food...

Oh right.

Jaks still thought he was going to be dinner.

S'ric leaned back enough to look at Jaks, his body still pressed to the elf's. "I'm not going to eat you," he growled a little, his tone soft despite how gravely it was. Some would have said it was borderline sensual. Figuring that was all the assurance that Jaks needed, S'ric turned his attention back to his neck... and more importantly, where he'd bit him. With the hint of a smile, though smirk was closer to what it was since a smile implied –niceness-, S'ric leaned back to lightly bite him again. But this time it was brief... because he noticed something else. Was that a marking? Curiosity led to S'ric tugging the neckline further away, wanting to see more. Of course, there was only so much he could move before he'd end up choking Jaks. With a sigh of annoyance, he looked at Jaks then said, "Take your coat off." There would be no arguing.

The harder bite drew a whimper and he kept his eyes closed. It hadn't really hurt before, but this one did. S'ric could bite a chunk out of his shoulder and not think about it! Jaks knew he should calm down and stop squirming, the weight pressed down on him of the larger man puffed the air out of Jaks in a quiet huff and he tried to wiggle again. No luck.

Licking.

Jaks shuddered, felt like a warm slug over the slightly throbbing bite. One of his eyes closed when a shiver of disgusted raked through his body, his lip pulling up in a grimace. The nip had him shivering for another reason, but anyone could have nipped at his neck and made him shudder, so Jaks wasn't overwhelmed with trying to wiggle away again.

Green eyes darted up towards S'ric and he blinked. Did this guy just talk? Really? Jaks was about to sigh for relief when the man smirked and leaned back down. The only thing that could make this worse was if this huge man smelled bad. That would really suck.. "Uh?" Jaks looked up and then tried to look at his chest where the werewolf was tugging. Oh, crap. Must have seen his tattoo.

Take off your coat.

Four words.

Jaks cheeks turned hot and his mouth hung open. First his coat. Then his shirt... Then his pants. Jaks stared for a good minute before remembering that the bite had turned painful, so removing the jacket seemed like a good idea, Jaks wasn't sure what else he could make painful, but pain was not something Jaks enjoyed. "Ah.. O-Okay..." Jaks voice grew quiet when he moved his hand to laces to untie them, slowly showing the wet front of his shirt. He drew one arm out of his coat and left the other, he was laying on his coat now.

And his ass was freezing. Licking his lips, Jaks looked away for a second. No windows. Just a giant of a man and a door Jaks probably wouldn't be able to open on his own. This sucked. "It's a tattoo. What you saw." He moved his hand to push aside the shirt to his shoulder to show a dark gray line with a hook like design on the end. "It goes all the way down my back.. If.. If that's what you were wanting to see." Ah ha! He'd nipped it in the bud! Mr.Werewolfy wouldn't be curious anymore and Jaks won't have to take off his shirt and freeze his nipples off! One point for Jaks, fifty some-odd points for S'ric.

S'ric had no problem with Jaks trying to wiggle away. Not that the elf could, but the feel of that wiggling was very pleasant. What's more, it seemed that Jaks actually responded to some of S'ric's attention. The whimper was enough to assure S'ric he'd gotten the point. Which was always good. What pain S'ric liked to dish out was usually in the midst of sexual play. They'd not gone that far, so while the whimper was oh so pleasing, it was more satisfactory to his dominant wolf than the man. A confirmation that Jaks was beginning to understand, and that S'ric had been right to immediately pick him.

The werewolf watched with a small bit of curiosity as it seemed the elf... blushed...? For a moment, he thought that Jaks might fight with him again. Instead, he got an "Ah.. O-Okay..." Which was exactly what S'ric wanted to hear. It was a little shaky, but at least he was doing as he was told. Disobedience really didn't sit well with S'ric. It generally worked out better for everyone involved if they just did as he said. A bit of fight every now and again was fine, mostly because it aroused S'ric. Too much fight though, and there were problems. Thus far, Jaks was walking the line between boring and suicidal. Right where S'ric wanted him.

S'ric watched Jaks slowly take his coat off with the patience only a man who knew he was going to get what he wanted, one way or another, could. Whether Jaks did as he was told of his own volition or not was hardly of consequence.  What mattered was that S'ric was satisfied, and if he told the elf to do something, it was in the elf's best interest to do that. S'ric was not above destroying clothes.

The werewolf had started to lean so he could pull the shirt aside when Jaks beat him to it. Which made a pleased sort of growl, this one lower and lighter than any other, come from S'ric's throat. Clearly, he was pleased with the gesture. Then he was told it went all the way down his back... Now he had to see it. "The shirt now. Off." He even moved back off of Jaks so he could sit up and pull it off if he pleased.  Of course, he'd just moved since he was going to have Jaks show it to him anyways. While he waited, the werewolf went over to the fire place, placed a couple of the logs from the stack next to it in the pit, and went about starting a fire. He forgot, sometimes, that those he brought back were not as resistant to the cold as he was. He turned back to Jaks when he had the start of a small fire going.

Point was gone.

Jaks was back to zero.

A long string of curses rang through his head and he had a mini-fit with himself, his fingers digging into his palms. That noise didn't sit well. Sounded far too... Happy. Jaks closed his eyes and sat up, moving back to sit on his jacket which was still warm from his body. Damn his ass was freezing. He'd almost wished he could have a big furry ha– No. Jaks chomped down on the inside of his mouth.

No wanting a giant warm hand stroking his ass. No. Bad. No thinking like that. Jaks rubbed his forearm and sighed down at his shirt. Okay. Just the shirt. He could do that. They were both men, right? Right? If the guy was interested in an ugly tattoo on Jaks back, what did he care? Yeah.

Jaks moved his hands to his back and pulled his shirt from out of his pants, tucked in to keep the snow from falling into them if they ever actually got that far up his back. Down his back? Jaks gave himself a shrug and pulled his shirt over his head. Goose bumps spread up over his chest and back and he crossed his arms over his chest, fingers digging into his biceps.

Once the fire was finished, Jaks shirt was in a ball on his lap and his back was to S'ric, haunched over slightly. This sucked. The fire was nice enough, sure, but Jaks glared over his shoulder, his hair falling down his back while his eyes narrowed. "There, see it? I'm going to put my shirt back on. Freakin' freezing my nipples off." Hate the snow. Hate the tundra.

Hate cold floors. Jaks wasn't about to dwell on why he hated the cold floors. "So, you've seen my back. Can I go now please?"

S'ric missed the inner battle that Jaks fought with himself. Not that he would've cared so long as, in the end, the shirt was removed. So far, so good.  By the time S'ric was looking at the elf, Jaks was glaring. Apparently trying to be forlorn, upset... what have you. None of that really registered with the werewolf. He was lenient in some regards, and not so much in others. When he 'requested' something be done, there was no middle ground. If Jaks had not taken the shirt off, then S'ric would've ripped it to get it off. And their time together would have a much more violent overtone. Not that S'ric had a problem with that. It'd speed thing up a bit, as he'd become far more aggressive than he was right now.

But he could go slower too. It wasn't patience so much as being content in the knowledge that either way, he'd get what he wanted from Jaks. More confidence than anything else. If this meant that his current interest behaved more, and S'ric didn't have to maim him to get him to cooperate, then there was no drawback to taking his time.

S'ric's icy blue eyes traced the design along Jaks' back. How very interesting. He'd have never guessed this would've been here... It didn't change anything, it was just another faucet of Jaks' that S'ric would get to see. S'ric moved closer before kneeling down behind him, reaching out to let his finger trail one of the lines. From the base of his neck down to the bottom, along the top of his pants. As his finger made its way back up Jaks' back, he murmured, "If you are cold, you're welcome to the furs." He pause as his finger moved from the design to where he'd bit him. There was a bit more force to his tone, a command, as he informed, "You won't be getting dressed until tomorrow morning."

He completely ignored the request to leave. Obviously that was not an option. And never would be, unless S'ric decided it. Thus far though, he saw absolutely no reason to get rid of Jaks. The elf was slender, which always appealed to the werewolf. The tattoo was very curious... Enough so that he eyed it a little more before taking the time to look at Jaks' bare skin. There were a few criteria that his favorites usually met, such as being smaller than he was, more lithe than muscle, more bark than bite. So far, Jaks fit every one. S'ric's index traced around the perimeter of the bite before he tilted forward so he was nearly pressed along Jaks back. Because the elf was so much smaller than he, S'ric had to lean quite a bit to turn his attention to the other side of Jaks' neck. His hand pushed the brown strands of hair to the side, exposing his neck. S'ric didn't bite again, merely hovered close with his warm breath on his neck. After all, if Jaks was cold, he'd want to do something about that soon... Which meant S'ric would need to allow him to get up.

Furs.

The finger trailing up and down his back was making him shiver, his hands growing tighter on his arms. That felt nice. No. Well, yeah. It would have felt nice if anyone did it. Jaks gave a nod, a physical nod before stopping his head and sitting straight up.

Staying topless until morning? Jaks looked around, no windows. " How would you know it's morning?" Jaks snorted and then quickly drew his lips into his mouth. Okay. While S'ric was busy oogling and stroking the tattoo, Jaks would sum up his new... friend. So. Mr.wolfy liked it when Jaks listened, liked when he did that submissive animal thing - which made sense -. Sitting cross legged, Jaks pressed an elbow to his knee and pressed his chin to his hand.

Hm.

Jaks pretended to ignore the hand moving his hair, the warm body against his back that his own wanted to lean into. Who cares if this guy was a man eating freaky rapist? He was freaking cold and this guy was warm. Wait, no. Jaks cared! Yeah! Jaks leaned farther forward in a lame attempt to get away subtly and then froze, his lips drawing into a thin line and his eyebrows drawing together to meet in a very frozen expression on his face.

"What are you doing?" Jaks moved forward to rest on his hands and knees and crawl away, flipping his brown ponytail back over his shoudler to just leer. His hands on his legs while he sat across from S'ric, his green gaze even. Sure he had the constant hum of fear in his gut, but it was more the fear of the situation than the fear of the man.

Being afraid of someone was silly, being afraid of what they could do made more sense. Jaks was currently afraid that this guy was going to rip off one of his arms. Jaks licked his lips and looked over to the furs. "I'm... uh.." Jaks pointed and then stood up, facing S'ric as he walked backwards to the pile of furs, his foot catching one and tripping himself so he sprawled on his back.

"Today... Is not my day." Jaks groaned and moved his forearms to cover his eyes before Jaks sat up and hunched over, his legs spread and his arms pressed onto the fur between his thighs. Slowly Jaks looked up, his bangs obscuring his vision. " Um... What are you going to do with me?"

S'ric found it rather amusing that Jaks seemed to like being touched, and yet insisted on moving away. It didn't bother him, really. More like a timid way of playing 'hard to get'. There was no real defiance in his actions. For a moment, S'ric thought he may lean back. If the elf was still cold, and by the way his skin was covered in goosebumps he obviously was, the werewolf was not above warming him up. Rather, he had every intention of doing so. When Jaks moved forward, so did S'ric. At least, at first.

Until Jaks actually crawled away, which gave S'ric a rather nice view of what Jaks would look like on his hands and knees, and a perfect chance to eye the ass that was now his. Without Jaks now directly in front of him, the werewolf opted to answer the two questions he'd been asked. "Day feels different than night," S'ric answered, remaining on his knees while he watched Jaks in a very possessive way. He'd only let the man pull away a couple more times, if that. S'ric was a hunter, as such, he didn't mind chasing some. But that... playfulness?... would eventually give way and he'd want something more.... substantial. "And I was touching you." That had been rather obvious.

S'ric stood when Jaks did, and whole heartedly approved of the elf wandering back to the furs. Until he fell. Which make a single brow quirk. He'd never seen someone so... clumsy. Not that it bothered S'ric. Jaks appeal wasn't that he could fight, at least not physically. The snappy way he'd been, before quickly complying to S'ric, that was the initial attraction. With the lack of clothes on Jaks body, S'ric was finding other things to like. Gender hardly ever mattered to the werewolf, rather, S'ric sought certain features that he found eye-catching.  A slender body, narrow-ish eyes... But it all came down to the part where they'd have to do something to make him take an interest. S'ric rarely was the one to initiate the first contact between himself and whatever unfortunate soul that he met. As with his meeting with Jaks, where the elf had actually yelled at him, it usually involved someone doing or saying something that ultimately led to S'ric dragging them back here. Or somewhere a little more private. The cityfolk didn't always like it when he did things in private, and while he would if he saw fit, it was just easier not to stir them up so they wouldn't annoy him with guards and the like. You kill one guard, they bring more. And then it's just a whole, annoying ordeal where he's killing people until they quit sending them after him.

S'ric shrugged out of his coat, tossing the blue enchanted material on the table. His eyes didn't look away from the elf as he unbuttoned the dark shirt beneath, likewise putting that on the table with his coat. That left S'ric in only his pants and boots, his bare torso decorated in a plethora of small scars... and accented by much larger ones. The most prominent was a deep cut from the middle of his chest down to his belly button, where someone hand seriously tried to jut him open vertically. It was almost dead center, and near straight down.

Even though his skin was decorated, most of the scars didn't seem to affect the muscle growth beneath. S'ric was very toned, more so than any human had the right to be. Only where some of the deeper scars were did the muscle dip in some, as though tissue had been damaged as well. Only then did he bother to answer Jaks' last question. " Um... What are you going to do with me?" S'ric made his way toward Jaks, one slow step after another, and looked every bit the animal he was. Were-animals just had a grace about them that other mortals couldn't match. Not even an elf could move as predatorily, or with the same whole body, fluid grace. Ever one to give the truth, S'ric answered as he reached the furs, "Whatever I want."

He knelt then, before making his way slowly toward Jaks. Not that the man was really far away.

This guy wasn't taking the 'I crawl away, you stay there.' thing seriously. Jaks lifted his head and stared when S'ric got up and started walking towards him. What? Noooo. What was with this guy? First he kidnaps him, then he chomps on Jaks' neck, then he gets Jaks topless. What the hell. Jaks frowned and kept his head down while Mr.Wolfy took off his top. The elf had intended to look up to glare but his mouth dropped open and his eyebrows shot up at the sight of the scars.

Jaks didn't scar. He'd been hurt countless times, but there wasn't a scar on him. Not on his knees, not on his chest, the only remaining 'scar' was the tattoo on his back and that was only still there because it was full of ink. Scars were interesting to him. His green eyes flicked across S'rics chest, not actually seeing the huge chest but focussing on the scars there, going a little pale when he finally noticed the huge one in the middle.

Someone must have gone ' hmm, he looks tasty,' and tried to put him through a meat grinding, Jaks thought, his eyes flicking back over his chest, curious as to what his back looked like. Claw marks. Jaks felt an eyebrow tweak upwards and his cheeks coloured. This is what he got for spending countless hours with a group of young men. He went perverted. Claw marks. Who would think of claw– Jaks shuffled backwards when S'ric told him what he had planned.

Whatever he wanted.

Uh. Jaks face fell into a stare and his cheeks went brighter, the tips of his ears going red too. Please let that not be kinky. Please, please, please. Punching bag or a light snack. Jaks opened his mouth to say something distracting and witty but a nervous chuckle fell from his lips instead before he moved his hands over his mouth and stared down, his knees tucked to his chest and his ponytail flopped over one shoulder.  This was bad.

"What..." Jaks closed his eyes and swallowed, a nervous smile on his face, " What are you... going to be wanting?" being polite. If he was polite and didn't have a massive freak out, he could probably keep all his fingers and toes, maybe his arm. Jaks hand moved to the place the werewolf had bitten and placed his hand over it, squeezing it. The elf didn't really want an answer. "And why do you look like someone tried to shove you through a meat grinder?" Oh..crap. He hadn't meant to ask that last one. With the damage done, Jaks simply smiled and blinked, shuffling across the furs until his back was pressed to a wall.

S'ric watched Jaks eye him. Every reaction to his scars was different. Some people were disgusted, some thought them curious, and others found them... appealing. To S'ric, they were just there. He remembered each one, and close to half were self inflicted... or had gotten there because he let some of his favorites have a knife. If they were still desperate, they'd try to cut him and get away. Others had, in a morbid way, started to enjoy it. Some of the larger ones were from fights, bigger ones that S'ric had won, but had left his mark. Fights he still relished. Part of the reason he was a bounty hunter came from the fact cornered prey fought harder than anything else. When a man knew it was either death or escape, he put his all into getting away from S'ric.

The werewolf continued to make his way closer to Jaks. The question amused S'ric enough to actually smile. As rare as it was from him to do so while a human. His smiles were the stuff of nightmares. All cold, frosty danger with violent sensuality writ on his features. Everyone seemed to ask that question, even if S'ric thought it obvious. If he were going to eat Jaks, he'd have done it out in the snow without bothering to drag him back here. Some had said he was going to torture them, and as fun as that really sounded, S'ric had other, much more base needs he wanted fulfilled. He could torture and kill his bounties, hell, he could do that to anyone. Those that caught his attention were different, and not to be wasted on mundane death. Pain was a given, but to S'ric, that was a part of pleasure. Some had managed to convince him to be a little... nicer... in that regards, but only if they took the initiative. Never in a dominant way, as that would set off the wolf in him.

Before S'ric took the time to answer his first question, Jaks was already asking another. After which he promptly pushed away from S'ric. The withdrawal was very, very stimulating, as the predator in him found extreme pleasure in cornering his quarry. Not that he'd eat Jaks. He had something much more carnal in mind. As to what he'd be wanting, well that was easy. "I'll be wanting you," S'ric said rather bluntly, reaching out to grab one of Jaks legs and pulling him across the fur, closer to S'ric, and positioning his legs to either side of S'ric's hips. To make sure he didn't get away, he pinned Jaks there with his lower body before leaning over him, hands to either side of the elf's head. "I've been in some fights," he added in what could only be a whisper, " Some are self inflicted, and others are from those I've brought back here." At this point, S'ric became less interested in talking and more interested in the body beneath his. He leaned down more, his body hovering over Jaks as lightly nipped at the elf's jaw, making his way toward his neck. S'ric growled a little, more pleased than anything, before biting along his neck. Not terribly hard, not even enough to break the skin, but he did leave a rather prominent imprint.

Jaks made a mental note to not make S'ric smile. Smiles were supposed make people look happy not... More evil.  Jaks gave a nervous chuckle when the werewolf smiled at him and he flashed his own smile back. A bright happy smile. An obviously fake smile, but an example of what a real smile should do to a face. Make it nice and shiny! Not... Evil and .. Jaks shivered and wrapped his arms tighter around himself. This was not going to end well. It'd been what... An hour? Hour and a half?

Topless already.

The answer he got made Jaks go bright red and his jaw drop before he gave a little yelp of surprise and slid along the furs to...To... Jaks felt his heart sink, felt like his chest was a large empty void. Well, this position was certinally suggestive. "Uh...Uh...Uh..." Jaks mouth moved and the lame 'words' came out as he tried to wiggle away to no avail before S'ric smooshed their middles together. Jaks eyes closed and he blushed harder, his lips drawing into a line and his eyebrows drawing together.

They were touching. Jaks wasn't sure what to do with his legs, everywhere he tried to put them felt damn awkward, of course, with a body between his knees Jaks wasn't really expecting to be comfortable anytime soon. The elf made a mental note to find and kiss the person who made pants as soon as he got away. Pants were his only saving grace right now. Jaks was no way excited in any form of the word, though his heart was pounding and it took effort to keep his breathing even.

Green eyes drew upward towards the head hovering above his when S'ric started to talk. Well, at least he didn't sound horrible. Delicate ears and horrible voices didn't mix for Jaks. Self inflicted? others are from those I've brought back here. Jaks mouth dropped open. He's kiddnapped people and they've stabbed him and... and... He's been fine? Jaks pushed himself down into the furs using S'rics body as leverage and turned his head to the side, assuming S'ric would be trying to kiss him.

Jaks had his eyes closed but those popped open when S'ric began to gnaw on his neck. Say what? Jaks winced at the bites, sure they didn't bleed but that didn't mean bites didn't hurt. Okay. Enough of this shit. Jaks moved his hands to S'rics chest and started to push, using whatever effort he could. "Look, S'ric? I realise you live up in a cabin all by yourself and you're probably like every other human guy and have needs and stuff, but seriously, you shouldn't," Jaks gave a bit more of a push, his fingers digging into chest, "slake those lusts on a poor helpless little elf like me. I'm not a damn chew toy. I'm not a toy, period. Now, get off of me." His voice grew a little hysteric towards the end and he bucked his hips and pressed on S'rics chest harder.

It was a horrible attempt. Jaks wasn't having fun, and when he found out who put this guy up to this, he was going to punch them in the nose. This was not a funny joke, and having his waist pressed so damn close to another man just made it all worse. Oh, you wanted your first time to be with a girl? Too bad Jaks, you get a giant dude. Haha, Jaks, haha. Jaks hand balled into a fist and he punched at S'rics shoulder to get his point across.

While S'ric was not yet aroused in the regard that was required for what he had in mind, if Jaks kept squirming beneath him, he would be rather quickly. Since they were already pressed together, well, it was really obvious as to why S'ric's body would... perk up... to that sort of motion. Which was perfectly ok with the werewolf. Jaks could squirm all he wanted so long as he didn't do anything too drastic. Given how S'ric usually reacted, this was downright –gentle-. Of course, Jaks hadn't put up much of a fight, and seemed to be cowed into behaving whenever S'ric acted expressly aggressive.

"Look, S'ric? I realise you live up in a cabin all by yourself and you're probably like every other human guy and have needs and stuff, but seriously, you shouldn't slake those lusts on a poor helpless little elf like me. I'm not a damn chew toy. I'm not a toy, period. Now, get off of me." S'ric heard the words, but didn't quite register them until the elf proceeded to try and push him off. The attempt wasn't very successful, to the point S'ric wasn't even paying it any attention. He was too busy paying attention to his neck, working down to his shoulder... and then Jaks punched his shoulder.

It didn't hurt, but it was annoying. S'ric growled then and leaned up enough look at Jaks. "You forgot," he hissed in a tone that would make a viper proud, "That you've no choice in the matter." Feeling more aggressive as a result of Jaks small attempts to get away, S'ric pushed himself up and grabbed a hold of the front of his pants. The fabric wasn't going to withstand much of S'ric's attempts to get it off. He wasn't rushing too much, yet, so Jaks would have a brief moment to consider that angering S'ric in this sort of situation wouldn't make it go away, but rather, it would speed it up. Fast or slow, the werewolf didn't care. He'd get what he wanted. The more fight there was, the less he was inclined to go slow, because then it became more about claiming them and less about satisfying himself. And the faster he went, the rougher he tended to be. Simply because, at that point, he didn't care. If Jaks continued to fight, he'd find his pants in shreds faster than he could say 'damned werewolf'.

This man must have been born as an animal. Jaks eyebrow twitched, if there was one thing he disliked it was being ignored. He was a little grossed out by all the gnaws and licks and kisses on his neck, but when he looked at the bigger situation and tried to see a silver lining to this large dark thunder cloud... At least he was warm.

Jaks grew a little depressed when that was all he had going for him right now. He was warm. Downsides to the warmth was a giant man hovering over him who wanted to... Eat him. Jaks felt the left side of his face twitch and he kept his hands on the other mans chest, to flop down and lean back when he hissed at him.

The hiss made him pale around the blush on his cheeks and he made a face, his eyes growing wide when S'ric leaned back and grabbed the front of his pants. Jaks went a few shades darker of red and stared for a moment before half sitting up and grabbing S'rics wrists. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?" Jaks yelled, his voice was loud and his hair was slowly becoming lose from his ponytail, the brown strands hung down his chest as he glared.

"Of course I have a choice, damn you! Free will! Have you heard of it? Apparently not, but I like living by it and not only are you ruining my free will, you're in my gods damned personal bubble!" His fingers dug into S'rics wrists, his blunt nails doing their best to dig into skin. This was... Bad. Jaks was breathing a little faster, his teeth were clamped together, his body trembled with fear and anger. He felt like throwing things, making a huge fuss. "Get away from me!"

Jaks didn't consider at all that S'ric might actually rip off his pants. Who rips off pants? Everyone he's ever met has been far too refined to rip off pants. 'Specially his pants.

The threat was usually enough to make most reconsider their actions. Usually. Not that S'ric was the sort to threat without following through. So when Jaks actually grabbed S'ric's wrists, the werewolf did growl. What's more, not only did Jaks seem to think he was going to stop S'ric, but he was actually trying to. A little resistance, and S'ric growled. A lot, and the man quit playing around and went full force into what he aimed to do. If Jaks couldn't stop him, then Jaks wasn't going to. As far as S'ric was concerned, Jaks was his now. And if he wanted to touch, bite, fuck, maim, or kill, he would.

The yelling, of course, was the final bit that the elf was going to get out. All indication of anger vanished in a blink, and the growling turned into a low, thunderous rumble. Enough play. Using both hands, one to rip one way, the other to pull the opposite, the cabin was quickly filled with the sound of Jaks pants literally being ripped. Off. S'ric, even has a human, was still incredibly strong. While he had to jerk a couple of times to get the tear started, once the rip was created, there was no hope for Jaks. Or his pants. With that barrier gone, there was only one more left... and his pants were just as easily discarded... without the ripping part.

What finess there had been before was forgotten. S'ric hated being told no, and to reinforce the fact that Jaks had no choice, he went right ahead and did what he wanted. The fact that Jaks had a hold of him had been, and was of little consequence. The elf simply wasn't strong enough to deny S'ric anything. Which meant if he fully intended on having him, in whatever way, he was going to.

Jaks was unaware that he could get his whole body to blush, but when the pants were ripped off of him, he did indeed go a pale shade of red. Mortified. Naked. Jaks hands moved to cover himself but it was all too much and before he knew it his hands were clawing at the furs underneath him, his lip bloodied in an effort not to cry out, to focus on something else besides that.

What a jerk. Hadn't even gone on a date yet and already he was...

It was a few hours later, Jaks was still laying on his back, legs spread ungracefully and his arms were bent up, his hands by his head. Blood had dried at the corner of his mouth and inner thighs, his hair was pooled around his head and his face was turned towards a wall. Eyes calculating. Jaks wasn't focusing on what happened, oh no, he was trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Was this guy going to kill him later? Do him like a ragdoll and then discard him to be an elf popsicle later on? Jaks wasn't keen on that option, he didn't want to be a naked elf popsicle. Jaks moved to sit up and gave a gasp of pain and rolled over, his knees slowly curling up to his chest and on of his hands moving to press against his lower back.

Jaks couldn't think of a time he'd ever ached so much. Of course, there was that one time he'd fallen down the hill and kissed about every tree and shrub on his way down, but that didn't make his ass hurt. Jaks bit his lip until it bled in an effort not to cry, the hand at his back dug and dragged back to his side, leaving white marks.

"So, what am I? Some freaky sex toy or something?" His voice was cracked and he took another breath and held it, the skin around his eyes red from his previous tears. Sure he was a man, but when something was almost literally tearing you in half, you'd have to be some sort of super human to not at least shed a tear. Jaks sat up, his face red with anger and he smacked down one of his hands against the furs. " That hurt, you bastard! What the hell is your problem!?" His moment of silence and weakness was gone and his shell of bravado was hugging him again.

Jaks was pissed, he looked like hell and his ass hurt. Not a good day.

The first time had been more out of a possessive need to have Jaks. Rougher than usual, with plenty of biting and growling. The second had been, well, because S'ric wasn't completely sated and the elf had been whining. But he'd been, for lack of a better word, nice. Slower, with more attention to whether he hurt Jaks. The pain excited him, inflicting as well as receiving, but he'd already made him bleed... All in all, this meant there was a very content, very naked werewolf stretched out lazily on the furs. He was on his back, next to Jaks where he'd collapsed after he was done. One arm was thrown over his forhead, almost covering his eyes, while the other was occupying the space between his body and Jaks'. Though S'ric wasn't asleep, his breathing was deep, even, and his eyes were partially closed. The fire was almost out, with small flames clinging to what embers were left. He'd need to put more wood on the fire... in a moment. He didn't want to right now, and if Jaks was really cold, well then, he'd do something about it.

The soft gasp of pain from Jaks drew S'ric's attention, making him shiver a little. Lovely sound. If he was so inclined, he'd have pulled Jaks –on- him... Rather, he was giving the elf a bit more time to get used to it. See, he could be nice. And all because he planned on keeping Jaks. It meant he couldn't break him, or well, he really didn't want to. This left Jaks in a position to have a bit of leverage no one else did. S'ric usually didn't care who he hurt, or what was destroyed to get what he wanted. Right now, Jaks was the exception to the rule.

S'ric's eyes traced over the tattoo on Jaks' back that became exposed after he'd rolled over. "So, what am I? Some freaky sex toy or something?" Ah, apparently Jaks' wasn't feeling too bad if he could yell. A sure sign that not only had he not done any lasting damage, but Jaks wasn't traumatized to the extent he quivered in fear. That sort bored S'ric rather quickly. Though it did mean he'd have to be rather violent all the time to get a response from them. " That hurt, you bastard! What the hell is your problem!?" The darker half of his side sated for the time being, he focused on the needs of his new favorite. Which seemed to be he was in pain. As always, S'ric's answer was straight forward and blunt. Accented with a yawn. "You're mine." This was said as though Jaks was simple, seeing as how S'ric had already said as much before. "And if you're in a lot of pain, I can get you some hot water." Soaking, he'd been told, helped. He waved a hand lazily to the tub in the far corner. He certainly didn't use it, since snow worked for him. But Jaks would probably freeze to death. It'd be easy to fill, since there was a larger pot that could be heated. It'd take a couple of trips, but mundane things like that didn't bother S'ric when he was in a... sated... mood.

The sheer size of the man made Jaks nervous.

Jaks closed his eyes for a moment and pressed a hand to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. Turning around to look at the guy made him actually notice everything. His gaze stared at S'rics lower regions for a moment before his eyes trailed up and up. He... Couldn't do this. Jaks was a deep red and his eyes drew to S'rics face when he yawned. You're mine. What the hell did that mean? Jaks would have a bitch-fit if he did that creepy 'mate' thing. Jaks wasn't a woman, he'd smack and flail and freak out if he was expected to bear puppies or freaky shit like that.

What S'ric said after that made Jaks mouth drop open. Looking over to the tub. What? S'ric mentioning pain made the tops of Jaks ears turn red and he layed back down on his back with a gasp of pain, his hand moving to his stomach. Not fun.

Why the hell did people enjoy sex if it made places he didn't know he had ache and... Bleed. Jaks winced and moved a hand down his leg to wipe at the blood, eugh. Gross. Jaks licked his lips and wiped the gooey blood off on his chest, not wanting to get the furs dirty. Now, how to go about this politely without getting plowed again by the angry werewolf. "A... Soak would be... nice." Probably sting like a bitch, but he wasn't exactly feeling clean enough to worry about soaking and stinging.

Jaks swallowed and sat up, his breath hitching and his eyes squeezing shut. "Ow." Taking a few fast breaths, Jaks relaxed where he sat and put his hands on his knees, which were drawn up. "Sorry for.. Erm... Bleeding on your furs." The blush stained his cheeks and he looked away again, the apology felt weird. It was his fault he was bleeding. Or bled.  Jaks turned his head away and lowered his head so his hair fell over his shoulders and hid his face.

Awkward. Naked and awkward.

It'd be a little longer before S'ric allowed himself to sleep. Though he could, since he was very... relaxed. Still had things to take care of. S'ric's attention slid back to Jaks when he heard him gasp in pain, thus resulting in S'ric frowning just a little. He rolled on his side, eyeing Jaks as he was stretched out. He smeared some of the blood that had resulted from S'ric's attentions on his chest, which happened to become the focus of the werewolf. Of course, this view was cut off when Jaks sat up and drew his legs to his chest. S'ric chose not to pursue the spark of interest there. He was about to sit up and fill the tub as he yawned, then heard Jaks say something more than his desire to bathe. "Sorry for.. Erm... Bleeding on your furs."

It was the pose that snagged S'ric's interest. He looked so... Hmm. He didn't have a word for it. With his head tilted to the side... and the apology... S'ric leaned over, brushed the hair away from his neck, and lightly bit him. No pressure at all, just the brush of his teeth along the skin, before he stood and made his way to the bucket/pot that was used to heat the water and fill the tub. The light touch was S'ric's way of saying 'it was fine'. As much of a way to comfort someone as he was capable of. With no concern for his state of dress, S'ric tossed a couple more logs on the fire before grabbing the pot and fetching some snow. If the cold that came from outside bothered him, there wasn't any indication.

Once filled, he went back over to the fireplace, set the pot next to it, and arranged the logs so that they'd actually catch flame. Then set the snow next to it so it would melt, then heat up. While he waited the breath or so for it to heat, S'ric stretched then. After that, he made two more trips to fill up the tub before making his way back to the fur to stretch out. He was fully aware he was a little dirty from what they'd done, and he'd go roll in the snow. He was far more interested in relaxing. And the fire was going now, the tub was filled...

Biting.

What the hell was with all the biting? It made him shiver and pull his legs closer to his chest. At least that didn't hurt. Jaks would have to figure out what those damn bites meant. While S'ric was getting the snow to turn into his bath - Jaks couldn't believe the guy was going outside naked - the elf ran over the things that happened. Again. His hand rubbed at the bite marks on his shoulder and neck.

So. The gentle bites were few and far between and when he didn't flail or freak out. Maybe it was a dominance thing. The guy seemed more animal than human when it came to... Everything. Jaks could probably count the words he's said so far on one hand. It was annoying. If this guy wasn't so magically and oddly nice right now, Jaks would have thrown a fit from the total lack of talking. Screw his sore butt, he'd have stood up and poked the guy in the chest at least.

As it was, Jaks just sat there, his eyes following his new... Friend? As he went about making Jaks a warm bath. From snow water. Jaks was baffled. Maybe the sex was some sort of stress reliever and it made him euphoric and oddly happy. Jaks would have to remember that for later. Wasn't like the weird sex could get any worse than that first bout of it. Second hurt worse but Jaks had figuered laying there and pretending to like it would get better results, and they did!

And before he knew it, there was a warm tub of water waiting for him and S'ric was laying back on the furs. Jaks bite into his lip and stood up on shaky legs, not really caring that he was naked anymore, he hurt and ached in places he didn't know he posessed, the guy had already seen him naked and given him bites and what not. Jaks was at wits end when he stumbled towards the tub, his back straight and his head held high.

The water was wonderful and Jaks ignored the stinging as he slowly sat down in it, his knees up and his arms on the rim, his hands hanging off the side. He cast a look towards S'ric before he looked away. "Thanks." he was quiet as he slowly sunk into the water to dip his head in and lift it back up, his hair sticking to his face and shoulders. Jaks moved his hands under the water, rubbing away the blood before he stood up and gave a stretch, his front to S'ric while he drip-dried with his legs still in the tub.

"So. I'm yours huh? What exactly does that mean? Didja stake a claim? Is that what," Jaks moved a hand to brush over his shoulder were various small bruises were from the harder bites," these are for? Ward off other scary werewolves? Rawr, little girly elf is mine, keep out?" Jaks mouth dropped, "Off. Keep off." Jaks glared down and stepped out of the tub, his wet feet leaving prints on the floor while he walked to the other side of the cabin to glare with his arms across his chest.   "Thanks for the bath." he gave a wave and stood, his side close to the fire and his weight shifting between his feet in his wide stance.

Jaks was past caring that he was naked.

S'ric didn't move from where he was stretched out, though his attention was on Jaks as he moved from the furs and made his way to the tub. He was partially ready to sleep now, though the werewolf found it hard to do when someone was up and moving around. At least until he got used to Jaks being around. Which could take a little more time. S'ric probably wouldn't sleep deeply until he was confident the elf knew his place and wouldn't do anything stupid... like call for help or try to run away. As 'fun' as silencing Jaks would be, or the how thrilled he'd be with hunting, the initial anger that the elf had disobeyed would likely result in S'ric being rather... mean. All for the better if the elf just behaved.

He watched through partially closed eyes as the elf stood from the tub, water running off of him in a very appealing way. Enough so that S'ric's attention turned a little more intent than it had been before. Not enough to rouse him, or encourage him to approach Jaks, but enough that he essentially 'woke up' from his dozing. It was because he was more or less aware that he heard Jaks talk. It would seem the elf enjoyed doing that on a frequent and regular basis.

"So. I'm yours huh? What exactly does that mean? Didja stake a claim? Is that what these are for? Ward off other scary werewolves? Rawr, little girly elf is mine, keep out? Off. Keep off." After this, the elf promptly left the water and made his way to the fire.

Usually, S'ric was not the conversational type. But where most exceptions surrounded whether he was concerned about someone or not existed, there was one here as well. If Jaks asked him a question, the odds were good he'd answer. Communication, verbally, was a small part of who S'ric was given that there was a bit of humanity left. He propped his upper half up on one elbow, leaning a little to the side to center his weight on it, while watching Jaks. "It means, until I deem otherwise, I'm going to keep you. The marks can be doubled as a sign of ownership, yes." Given that S'ric also just liked to bite. His voice dropped lower as he continued. "It does mean that I'll be the only one you sleep with, and the only one you have sex with." The consequences should he do otherwise should've been obvious. S'ric then sat up and stretched, becoming more awake and aware with the action. "If you'll be needing anything from the city, I can provide. Merely let me know."

S'ric's blue gaze slid over Jaks, taking a moment to study him with obvious approval, before he asked, "Are you still hurt?"

His fingers came into contact with knots. Jaks blushed and glared into the fire remembering why he had the knots, from his head sliding back and forth on the furs while S'ric... Jaks looked back over and swallowed, turning his body slightly as he kneeled and resumed to finger comb his hair. He didn't have any soap but just being clean and free of sweat and blood felt nice.

Once Jaks hair was all smooth and finger combed he looked at the floor and then the pile of furs. Those had a giant warm guy on them. There was a warm fire here. Fire would go out. Warm guy would probably hump him again. Furs were soft. Floor was hard. Something else over there would probably get hard.

Lose, lose situation.

Jaks moved his hand over his back and looked over. Furs would keep him from getting a crick in his neck. Jaks took a step and his mouth opened in a yawn and his arms stretched over his head, his eyes half closed as he did his little yawn dance. It took a few quiet steps to get to the furs. Might as well live it up while he was naked in a cabin in the middle of no-where. "I'm fine. Thanks for asking, you only raped me twice." Jaks snarled lightly before he drew closer to the furs. He could worry about escaping tomorrow or...

Jaks kneeled on the furs and curled up on his side, taking the corner of one and pulling it over his body. It was the comfort of being covered more than it was for heat, his knees were tucked up, his mind going over what S'ric had said before. Sleep. Have sex with. What kind of freaky person was this guy? Here, let me kidnap you to keep you warm, feed you and fuck.

Pressing his hands to his face, Jaks felt his exhaustion catch up to him quickly, his back and bottom still exposed, but his front was completely covered by the corner of fur. It was a whole five minutes before Jaks fell asleep, his body relaxing visibly, his legs uncurling slightly and his body rolling onto his back, mouth open slightly as he breathed evenly.

Obviously Jaks was bad at staying vigilant when in enemy territory, it would take being shaken and yelled at to wake up this tired little elf.

S'ric watched Jaks as he seemed to contemplate sleeping where he was standing. After which he made his way over to the furs, and curled up rather far away from S'ric. The werewolf wasn't exactly concerned over it. He watched as the elf actually fell asleep rather quickly. Which was a surprise. He figured his anger would keep him awake.  S'ric sat up and pulled another fur over, sliding it on top of Jaks before he slid away. He needed to clean up, collect the elf's things, and go hunting. Without bothering to get dressed, S'ric simply made his way over to the door, tugged it open, and went outside, shifting in midstep.

** Several days later**

S'ric stretched out on the fur, rolling onto his stomach while eying the elf next to him. He had a meeting with a man who typically brought him hits. The snow elf did a lot of collecting information that S'ric didn't want to, and occasionally took a slice of the profit. Which the werewolf was fine with. He did all of the thrilling work, like hunting, and missed out on the parts he just didn't care for. Nor had the finesse required. While the snow elf was accustomed to S'ric's occasional favoritism, Jaks was still new. If the elf made a scene, then S'ric would be required to handle it, thus prolonging the actual meeting. That and it would made him rather... angry. He could skip out on the meeting, but Jaks seemed to have... adapted to their current situation.

While contemplating, the werewolf shifted so he was on top of Jaks. He had no intention of actually having sex with him, what with just finishing several minutes ago, but he did like being on the elf. Still a little hot from the ordeal, S'ric studied Jaks before deciding he'd go through with the meeting. S'ric hadn't had the need to be to be too forceful with Jaks, which was a good sign... after taking a deep breath, S'ric leaned down and licked a bite he'd left on Jaks neck before murmuring, "I'm supposed to meet with someone this evening. I can take you with me... if you want to go." The odds Jaks would want to were very good. But at least he was leaving the option open.

After Jaks woke up that first morning to an empty cabin, he just sat up and scratched his head. Staring for a few moments at a dying fire, wrapping a fur around himself, Jaks stood up and waddled - holy gods did his back and ass ache - to the door to use all his force to get it open to slam it shut seconds later.

Nope.

No escaping.

Not naked at least.

Jaks grunted at the door and crawled back into the pile of furs where he managed the spend the next few days in the fur under, beside and occationally on top of his new best buddy. Rarely dressed after the second bout of pants ripping the second day Jaks had been locked in the cabin. The only thing Jaks could really do was obsessively finger comb his hair, having lost the tie somewhere in the pile of furs he'd been with his hair down and it was bothering him.

Still slightly breathless and hot from the bout of activity minutes prior, Jaks sleeply looked up, his hair was in a loose braid down his back, and he moved his head to the side when he noticed S'ric leaning down to do that annoying biting thing again. In apperances, Jaks was content, his hands moved up to hold onto the werewolves forearms and he moved his body to accomidate the big man.

Mind was going a million miles a minute, and words coming out of S'rics mouth without Jaks prodding him to talk were words Jaks had to listen to. Thank the gods he had big ears. Jaks eyes wided and he leaned up on his elbows, interest sparked in his eyes. " Go... Outside?" Jaks pointed to the door, his head tilted. That sounded wonderful. " I'd love to. Outside. Really? I... Thought that..." Jaks trailed off, his hand moving to his lips. "I can get dressed, right?"

Clothes. Jaks had all his clothes here, but someone ripped them off far too many times, so Jaks bit the bullet and stayed naked, kept everyone else happy.

The werewolf was very pleased that Jaks was more accommodating now. He still wiggled, which was very delicious, but at least he'd stopped trying to keep the werewolf off of him when S'ric wanted to be on him. Granted, that hadn't happened until Jaks had lost another pair of pants. The routine recently had been easy though. S'ric hunted some, relaxed, and generally partook of what pleasure there was to be had with Jaks. But he was a restless wolf, which meant he wanted to do some more hunting, something that would fight back rather than the sport that was to be had around here. He couldn't leave Jaks here, either the elf would leave or starve, and it usually took more time before he was confident that he could take someone out. But Jaks was rather convincingly... calm. He accepted S'ric, even shifted in a very, very nice way so that, while not pressing for more than contact, at least the contact made him thrum with pleasure. The elf even tilted his head to the side now when S'ric wanted at his neck, which was decorated in both recent and fading bite and suck marks. The werewolf was convinced that Jaks would be a good little elf.

And it seemed S'ric had been right. Jaks was very interested in leaving. Not that S'ric could blame him. Being coped up was no favorite of his either. S'ric eyed the elf for a moment, watching the animation that had come over his previously sleepy expression. "Yes, I mean outside. And yes, you can get dressed." Though S'ric had never told him that he had to be naked... he'd been a little.... excited when he'd come back to find Jaks already bare. Enough so that there was a brief exchange of "I'm back" before S'ric had climbed on top of him.

Figuring it was settled, S'ric reluctantly pulled away and moved over to his clothes. There was little time before he was completely dressed. Which he then eyed Jaks, remembering how the elf had seem to freeze despite the fact he'd had a coat on. "If you're coat isn't warm enough, take one of the furs too. I'm not carrying you there..." He paused, eyeing Jaks, then added, "Unless you really want me to." The werewolf had become a little more talkative over the course of the time Jaks had been with him. Maybe the chatty elf was rubbing off on him too.

The simple sadness at S'ric pulling away from him made Jaks mentally twitch. No. He was a big scary rapist who could turn into a giant scary wolf thing! Jaks was not sad he was pulling away, though the lack of warmth on his front made him shivver and sit up quickly. Of course his lower body ached, it always did after a good romp on the fur, but he stood up and went to the clothing S'ric had brought back.

This guy wasn't as simple as he thought, with Jaks' things missing, they'll think he left without a word, not kidnapped and used as a substitute for a hand. He blushed and stretched, using a discarded shirt to clean himself up off the remnants of the sex earlier. Eugh... The blush stained his cheeks and his hair covered his face. Jaks was glad there was no mirror around, he could see his shoulders and biceps and hips and the bruises made him red.

Jaks pulled on clothing, his pants came with gasps and sighs and quiet grunts, but his shirt, coat and boots slipped on easily enough. He made sure to get a shirt that covered up to his neck and he laced his coat as high as it would go. His hood was pulled up and his hair was tucked into the back of his shirt. He looked back, still surprised that S'ric talked without Jaks asking him something first and he blinked before he stood up and pulled another pair of gloves on.  " I was cold because I'd been rolling around in the snow." Jaks voice was quiet and he gave a stretch and looked around before smirking at S'ric. "You can give me a piggy back ride if that means we'll move faster. I'm.." Jaks moved a finger to his lips. "I'm not very good in moving through snow."

He was even worse when scary giant beasts were chasing him.

S'ric watched Jaks get dressed, each little sigh and grunt making him shiver a little. He rather liked being the cause. What the werewolf didn't understand was why Jaks had been rolling around in the snow when he was so prone to being cold. The werewolf had actually gotten more wood since bringing the elf back to make sure he stayed warm. It helped some that when S'ric was there, more often than not, Jaks was close. S'ric was quickly beginning to pick up that when the elf smirked, he was going to say something remotely amusing. Like he had when they'd met and demanded S'ric buy his meal. "I saw how you handle snow," S'ric reminded, flashing Jaks a brief smirk of his own. Nowhere near as nice and 'innocent' as Jaks' smirk had been, but at least it was more a reaction than the usual nothing.

And S'ric was not about to give Jaks a piggy back ride. Though the elf did have a very good point. He'd slow S'ric down, and while it didn't take a long time to get to the city... if Jaks was going to flail in the snow every couple feet, then it'd turn into an all day affair. While the smirk was gone, he was still feeling... well, relaxed. Part of the after affect of sex. Without asking, or warning, S'ric proceeded to pick Jaks up and toss him over his shoulder much as he had when he'd been in wolf form. One arm was wrapped around his legs to hold him in place. S'ric then pulled the door opened and stepped into the afternoon, freezing cold air. The wind had picked up today, and it was cloudy, but at least it wasn't snowing. Once the door was pulled shut, S'ric's hand slid along one of Jaks thighs. Given the werewolf's height and long strides, he was able to navigate the snow rather effectively. Having grown up here, it was something he was accustomed to. Setting a brisk pace, it'd be no time at all before they arrived at the city. Hopefully with minimal fuss. S'ric would hate to have to strip Jaks out here, where it was very cold.

While the chill wind didn't much affect the werewolf, even he was willing to admit it had a certain bite to it today. He had a feeling there'd be a storm coming in, though he smelt nothing more but the bitter cold that was in the air now. When they finally arrived at Hyoite, S'ric still kept Jaks tossed over his shoulder. What people were out and about ignored the tall werewolf and his prize, knowing it best to just leave the man alone. Less people were maimed this way. S'ric didn't set Jaks down until they were at the door to the inn that S'ric frequented for work. After studying Jaks for a moment, S'ric went inside. Clearly expecting the elf to follow. As before, there was a pause in conversation as those inside became aware he was there. Though not everyone was too on edge. The werewolf was usually more... demure... when his attentions were being focused on someone else. This time there was a table open, and it was there that S'ric went to sit. The snow elf he worked with had yet to show up. Which wasn't really a problem.

Dark eyebrows shot up Jaks forehead. Did S'ric just make a partial funny? No way. Jaks blinked for a few moments, the smirk sobered him quickly and he looked away, it reminded him of other things and he squirmed slightly before he made quiet lame protests and was thrown over S'rics shoulder.  A loud grunt and Jaks sighed, his hands clutching at the base of S'rics shirt, his face hidden by the back and hood. The outside was damn cold, a shock to his sense after spending a good solid few days in a warm cabin. He gasped and pressed his face closer, his hands holding onto the top of S'rics pants now.

Of course, Jaks had expected to be put down once they got to town, so when he was still perched over S'rics shoulder, the brown haired elf went several shades of red an he pressed his face against his captors back, hands moving up to cover the sides just incase. Jaks was mortified. Though the fact that no one said anything or paused  - Jaks could hear their foodsteps - was weird. Oh. Then all at once he was right side up, his hands moving to grab S'rics side when his knees buckled, his cheeks even more red now.

Jaks heart raced.

He gently pushed off of S'ric, his eyes darting to the side.  Carefully his hands clenched and unclenched, looking to the side. His heart started to pound faster. Sure S'ric was warming up, or seeming to. But he'd raped him. And bruised him. Jaks took a stealthy step to the side, his breath coming out in one big puff as S'ric went inside the tavern, and Jaks was off, his feet kicking up the snow as he ran down the street, his hood flying off his head and his hair smacking at his ears and face and floating behind him like dark silk.

S'ric was going to kill him.

Jaks wasn't even doing a good job of running away. He quickly spotted a tiny snow covered alley between a pair of houses, and then screamed his dispair when he reached the end. It was a dead end. Jaks fists slammed against the barrier and he gave a sobbing breath as his head dropped down as he slowly sank to his knees. He could still get away! He could grab someone for help. Jaks ducked his head down, his hands still pressed against the wall, gasping for breath after his run.

Jaks wanted to get up again, but his legs wouldn't move. Well... That was one way of royally fucking up. Maybe S'ric would figure he left and leave him be, Jaks didn't move from his spot, but he did stay very still, in a lame attempt to stay hidden, of course, that was counting on S'ric not using scent or following his very obvious footsteps.

S'ric would've went to the table. He would've sat, ordered something to drink and offered whatever Jaks would want. He would've had a peaceful, easy, quick meeting, and then he would've went back, gotten things packed...

But by the second step, S'ric knew all those 'would've's were gone. Why? Because there were no steps following him in. And the only reason it had taken S'ric this long was because he'd been looking for a blue haired, tattooed elf. NOT thinking his lovely little elf was going to make a break for it. He stood, staring at the far wall, as every bit of him hit overdrive. There were very few things that really made S'ric mad. Lots of things annoyed, irritated, were generally unpleasant... but there were very few things that made him mad. To the extent all humanity flew the coup and the wolf in him bristled with lethal intent. Had it been ANYONE else, he'd make a meal out of them. And they'd be lucky for it. The end would come quickly, albeit violently, but there would be an end. But this was Jaks, someone S'ric considered his. Which meant that, while he was protective to a crazy fault, and was almost nice.... S'ric was also a very scary wolfie when crossed. It was one thing to tell him no, it was another to try and stop him... and it was neigh suicidal to –run- from him unless he wished it.

As though everyone in the room realized something was wrong, conversation died. Not slowly, but in a breath. One person along the far wall coughed... and then S'ric spun on his heel and walked out. The wind tore the scent trail to pieces, but he didn't need one. Jaks was by far the –easiest- thing to find. His path cutting through the snow was very, very obvious. S'ric would've shifted, but then the general populace would freak. And he would maim them. Which would hinder him from getting to what he really wanted. Jaks.

What people happened to pass close to the barely contained fury that was S'ric skirted out of his way. A woman and her child even fell into a snow drift in order to be that much farther away from him. There was no sound from the man, no expression save the utter lack of one.

Each step was deliberate, but unhurried. His stride was long, purposeful, and oozed violent intent to anyone in his way. He followed the path as though he knew all along where Jaks went. And when he stepped into the ally, his blue eyes were on Jaks from the breath he came into view. Without breaking his stride, S'ric started crossing the distance.

[ angry, angry wooolfie >____> ]

The elf didn't think his heart had ever beat faster, his breath refused to calm down and his breathing was near hysteric as his fingers clawed at the wall. His fist pounded on it again and he sat completely straight and completely still when he heard a familiar pair of feet behind him. Slowly Jaks turned around, his knees to his chest and his hands out, his gloves were missing - again -and his fingers twitched.

What now? Jaks pull a bad funny and call out 'surprise, you found me?' he started to open his mouth to say something to, hopefully, diffuse the situation, but all that tumbled from his frozen red lips was begging. "I'm sorry. Please, S'ric, don't hurt me. Please." As the werewolf drew closer, Jaks grew more frightened and his breath wouldn't catch. Jaks had made a point of never using the mans name, and when he said it, it felt foreign on his tongue.

Stupid. He would have been fine if he just went into the damn Inn. Jaks closed his eyes and pulled his legs closer to his chest, turning to the side to draw closer to it, one of his ears pressed to the frozen wall. "I'm sorry." Quick! Think of something that would make S'ric re-think beating Jaks into a pulp! "It was a joke!" Oh, yeah, that'll do it. Jaks paused for a moment before he gave himself a mental kick and turned his attention back to his werewolf captor.

Tembling. Jaks couldn't think of a time he'd been so scared he'd trembled, sure as hell wasn't going to cry unless... Jaks put a hand to the alley wall and stood up, his shoulders heaving and his head down, breath coming out in white whisps as he stared. He'd get away some other time, when there wasn't snow. He could run better when the ground wasn't made of frozen water and he wasn't in a damn tundra. "I'm sorry." Jaks whispered again before looking up, his mouth half open and his head turned away. Jaks honestly couldn't think of anything he could do that wouldn't result in him getting an arm torn off, so he stayed quiet after that and promised himself he wouldn't put up a fight unless he felt jaws around his head. Then he'd flail.

Being eaten never did sound very fun.

His anger did quell some as Jaks pressed himself to the wall, and proceeded to apologize. Good. At least he was aware that he'd fucked up. Not that it meant S'ric was going to up and forgive him. The sorry was because Jaks had been caught. The elf wasn't –sorry- he'd ran, just that S'ric had found him out. If he'd actually gotten away, he wouldn't feel the need to apologize at all. Oh, S'ric was angry. This also meant that he –knew- he'd have to keep a sharper eye on Jaks. What basic freedoms he typically allowed were now gone. If the elf couldn't handle being out and about with S'ric without running, then the odds he'd not have S'ric's attention were slim. The werewolf was even of a mind to just return back to his cabin. One bad move on someone else's part would probably result in him disemboweling them. The man was already unforgiving and impatient, what bit of apathy he had dissolved when Jaks had ran. He was just very clearly pissed.

The only thing that Jaks apology did was mean S'ric didn't beat the hell out of him here. His little elf seemed very well aware he'd fucked up, which was good only in that S'ric didn't need to beat that point into him. But the lesson was still not learned. Jaks did –not- run from S'ric unless the werewolf wanted him to. And this had not been one of those times.

S'ric had been ready to grab Jaks by his neck and draw the elf to his feet, but he stood of his own volition. Which meant S'ric wasted no time in quelling some of his anger. With a soft, dangerous growl, one hand fisted in Jaks' hair, jerked his head to the side to expose the expanse of his neck, where S'ric then bit. All in one fluid motion. One moment he's an arm's length away, the next he was pressing Jaks almost painfully to the wall, teeth sunk into his neck. And this time, Jaks did bleed. The coppery taste of blood rushed into S'ric's mouth, spiking his blood lust, but soothing some of his anger. Testament to just how displeased he was, S'ric didn't linger to taste more of Jaks. With his lips stained red, one of his long fingered hands gripped Jaks jaw and brought his eyes to S'ric's while the werewolf licked his lips. "Next time you run, I break one of your legs." S'ric didn't particularly like terribly maiming his favorite, but neither would he tolerate flagrant disobedience of his wishes. He stared at Jaks for a breath or so longer, fighting with his desire to teach Jaks his lesson here. Right in the ally. There was no shame when it came to S'ric. He'd have fucked Jaks in public if he really wished it. Only his annoyance at having to deal with the public usually prevented him from doing so. See, S'ric could be considerate.

The struggle between dragging Jaks back to the inn, so he could get the meeting over, and the very, very hot desire to hurt him here was almost visible in his eyes. It was probably the most expressive his eyes ever were, and neither course of action would bode well for the elf. Coming to a snap conclusion, S'ric's grip in his hair slid down to the back of his neck, where he then held Jaks. S'ric's fingers pressed into the muscle, not cutting off any real vital function, such as breathing, but letting Jaks be painfully aware that he had very good grip on him. His words were whispered softly, though were colder than either the snow Jaks had been sitting in, the wall at his back, and the bitter wind that cut through the ally. "We're going back to the inn. If you do –one- thing I do not like while there, then I'll drag your ass out in the snow and show you how much I can hurt you." He leaned a fraction closer to make his point. "This is your only warning."

S'ric then leaned away, though the vice like grip on Jaks neck was still there. And would be for the duration of their time in town. The werewolf's thumb was conveniently positioned over the bite, where the pressure of his hold had managed to staunch some of the bleeding from the wound... even if it increased the amount of pain. Without waiting for any sort of response, S'ric forcefully pulled Jaks with him, using the hand on his neck to direct the elf to walk slightly ahead, out of the ally, and back toward the inn. S'ric was still mad, and he'd take care of that once they were done here. The werewolf occasionally knew how to prioritize, so long as his little elf was going to behave. If that were not the case, then Jaks would learn quickly that S'ric not only had no modesty, but that the jist of those in Hyoite weren't going to do anything to help him. It was one thing to call some sort of authority on a kidnapper that could neither silence their victim fully nor control them in the way S'ric was Jaks now. It was another to call some sort of authority on a 6'8" man who could turn into a wolf of ungodly size who had –no- stipulations with disemboweling you in public.

As they made their way back through the snow, the few that were out and about made a point –not- to look at Jaks. None of their business, they didn't want to get involved. And so long as that was the case, S'ric would leave them alone. They held ho interest to him, unless he was really hungry. Which he wasn't.

Standing outside the inn was a slender, though tall elf leaning against the door. Not nearly as tall as S'ric, but there was definite height to him. He wore a coat that almost belonged to someone in a less frigid climate. It couldn't have been any thicker than most leather armor, and was just as stiff. But blindingly whiter, clashing brilliantly with the crop of true blue hair atop his head. The elf would've been handsome save for the scarring along most of the right side of his face. Only his lips had been spared, which were an appealing shade of azure, though paler. It almost looked as though he were a corpse in that his skin was very white, and his lips had taken on a blue tinge. But there was an undeniable life to his one good eye, which rivaled S'ric's in their intensity and cunning. Only where S'ric was all animalistic fury, this seemed the sort of man to cut your throat in a dark ally and take what he wanted. The eye on his damaged side was completely white, and clearly not functional. Not that it seemed to bother him. He uncrossed his arms as the pair approached, lips twisting in a very charming, seemingly genuine smile. "Saw you storm off..." he said by way of introductions, then seemed to take note that neither Jaks nor S'ric were too happy. To which he crossed his arms and frowned at Jaks. "Someone was bad, hmm?"

S'ric glanced at the snow elf before directing Jaks inside, and to the table that was miraculously empty. Maybe everyone seemed to think that was for the best. The conversation was strained for a moment until it seemed S'ric was under control. The snow elf followed them in like he was unaware S'ric was a pissed off, possessive werewolf.

Jaks wasn't expecting his head to be pulled to the side and for the teeth to sink into his neck. Even though it hurt, Jaks body had been conditioned in the recent days to take bites as something remotely arousing. So, while the teeth sinking into his neck hurt like a bitch and made him cry his pain to the snow, his gut took the teeth to his neck with a hum of pleasure. Of course, that was quickly washed away once S'ric drew back, Jaks blood red on his lips. It was just pain now, the pleasure gone with the removal of S'rics mouth from the wound.

Breath was shallow as his face was turned to stare at S'ric, his green eyes staring at S'rics blue ones. Break one of his legs. Jaks had to use effort so he wasn't being held up by S'rics hand on his chin and he stared, a shaky breath before the hand on his head moved to his neck to squeeze it, getting another cry of pain, his hands moving up to pull off S'rics from his neck. Of course it didn't work, so he was left to wince and whimper at the pain.

Green eyes were downward when S'ric spoke again, it made him shiver and let out a shaky puff of breath. A retort on the tip of his tongue, the pink muscle darted out of his mouth and he licked his lips before letting out another gasp of pain. If the elf had one thing to keep him from freaking out again it was the words 'ass' and 'snow' and 'hurt' all in the same sentence. The mental image of him on his hands and knees in the snow with S'ric bent over him made him freeze before he leaned back and the warning was given.

At least he'd gotten a warning. That was nice of S'ric. Oh so nice.

Jaks swallowed and gave a nod, though it was probably unseen because he was pushed along, his boots slipping occationally with his shaky legs, his eyes darting between the people that wandered around, his eyebrows were drawn up and he could feel his eyes sting. Why wasn't anyone looking at him? Why didn't any of these bastards warned him about the giant freak? Jaks saw the Inn and his eyes stared at the strange looking person.

An elf.

Swallowing, his lips wet and his eyes watery as he stared at the elf. Today wasn't a good day. Not only did he just get turned on from a bite, he felt like his head was going to snap off on his shoulders and now he was feeling like a very plain elf. His hands clenched and his eyebrows drew together when the blue elf spoke, someone was bad. He did not just say that. Fear was pushed back when his face was drawn, eyebrows furrowed and his lips turning down at the corners.

It was one thing to be treated like a naughty puppy by one person, two was... If that damn elf said one more thing Jaks was going to risk being screwed in the snow to bark at the damn thing. Jaks gave a snarl when he was pushed into the Inn and to a table. He sat, his hands on the table, flat, his shoulders hunched forward, his head down and his wet hair in tangles at the back of his head.
            
Jaks hoped this meeting lasted a while. He wasn't too keen on returning to the cabin, he didn't really want to know what S'ric had in store for him tonight, of course Jaks imagined it'd be painful and involve him being naked.

Each whimper of pain before they arrived at the inn further cooled his anger. Granted, he had enough to melt all the snow outside, and vaporize what water would be left, but every little bit helped. And while time usually helped some people get over their rage, it only made S'ric broodier. He wanted to get this over with. Typically, he didn't mind the snow elf. Today, he just wasn't in the mood. He said nothing as he sat next to Jaks, eyeing him. He'd heard the snarl, and tightened his grip for a brief moment as a warning. Behave, or he'd get hurt. The hand remained on Jaks, and S'ric had no intention of removing it.

Most of those around shot curious looks their way, some mixed with sympathy for Jaks, others seemed amused he was with S'ric. And while the words themselves were near indiscernible, it was obvious Jaks was part of the conversation at some tables. Even through hushed tones, S'ric would hear. While words didn't bother him, and he hardly paid any attention, people were still a little careful of what was said. Meaning Jaks was their focus, not on how crazy S'ric was.

The snow elf broke off from them halfway to the table, stopping by the bar to collect drinks. Three. All vodka. He sat across from the pair, sliding a glass toward S'ric and Jaks, before turning his attention to the white fur bag that had been hanging off of his shoulder. The werewolf took a sip of the drink before setting it down, waiting. He never was very chatty. As the snow elf shuffled through his things, his single blue eye flicked up to Jaks. "I'm Vesd, by the way. S'ric's... business partner." At that, he pulled out a leather folder bound closed with a cord. As he set it down, nimble fingers untying the knot, the snow elf took a moment to study Jaks. Not for too long, considering there as a very annoyed S'ric next to him. "This is the information I have on some big hits. Three of them. One from La'marri, a hit in Zantaric, and the last back in Essyrn." He opened the folder before pushing it toward S'ric. There was a small stack, most of it written information, though there were some maps.

The werewolf glanced down. All of them were rather far, and the desert was the last place he wanted to go. S'ric –hated- the heat. He used his free hand to push through the notes that Vesd had made, tid bits of information, descriptions, possible problems, and of course, who was ordering the hit, why, and how much it paid. S'ric had a nice stash of gold tucked away around the cabin, hidden out in the snow. He didn't do this for the money, though that was part of the consideration. He liked the hunt, the fight at the end... And of the three hits, the fallen mercenary leader in Essyrn looked to be the most promising. Some no name mage in La'marri didn't catch his eye, and the price didn't appeal to him for the travel. Zantaric could be appealing, but with Jaks recent escapade, he wasn't going there. Yet. He glanced over the information, noting that it was the replacement that wanted the Merc leader dead. A sign of insecurity there. And in Zantaric, some illusionist thief had stolen something of importance from such and such in Adela. He folded the leather closed. "I'll take them all, starting with Essyrn."

Vesd's drink paused as he started to lift it, gaze flicking to Jaks as though he were somehow behind S'ric's... generosity. The surprise melted away in a blink though, and the snow elf smiled. "Fantastic. Where will you be heading second?"

S'ric's answer, as usual, was straightforward. "Zantaric."

Vesd mulled that over for a brief moment, then nodded. "I'll collect from you then." And that was that. He smiled at Jaks before lifting his glass in a small toast. "Now I'm going to go find someone to spend the night with before getting out of here." He stood, and the smile turned to a smirk as he regarded Jaks. "Behave now." And just like that, he left Jaks and S'ric alone. S'ric was musing over the information he'd read, momentarily distracted. For once.

It was uncomfortable, being talked about. Those people knew what was going on, and it heated his cheeks and made his ears red, the bite throbbed and S'rics hand on his neck hurt, Jaks hands clenched on top of the table, his knuckles white. He wanted to yell at all of them, to help him, to shut up and just help him, but... Jaks didn't enjoy the pain, it well... Hurt.

Vesd.

Mr.Snowy Elf was Vesd.

Good to know. Jaks looked over at him for a moment, his eyes lingering completely ignoring the drink that was places in front of him. While he appreciated it, he wasn't going to drink it. Far to angry to be dousing his stomach in vodka. He listened with interest. La'marri. Zantaric. Essyrn. Jaks liked Essyrn, there was lots of sand and it was warm. Not at thing like this frozen hell. While he didn't like the snow elf, he was interesting to look at.

Jaks looked away occationally, but his green gaze was mostly focused on Vesd. Not really paying attention to what they were saying or what S'ric was doing. So, the elf noticed the pause and quickly looked away when Vesd looked at him again. Jaks turned his eyes back down to the small glass of vodka and stared, thinking, replaying the last few days in his head. Would tonight be worse than all of those?

Green eyes flicked back towards Vesd when he smiled and offered a toast, the words he said made Jaks mouth drop open and he blushed again before glaring at the table, his finger nails digging into his palms the last words he said broke something in Jaks and an almost feral snarl tore past his lips and the little elf swore loudly. "Shut the fuck up!" His hands went behind him and clawed at S'rics hand, his lips drawn back and trying to stand up. "Let me go you bastard!" His hands moved off of S'rics hand and slammed down on the table. " Let me go!"

The outburst made those in the immediate area glance at them, though no one stopped talking... and no one moved to help. Jaks managed to get out 'Let me go you bastard! Let me go!' before S'ric altered his grip on Jaks' neck, sliding his hand around so his very long fingers were now in the right place to effectively cut off his air supply. Which they did rather quickly. S'ric's attention slowly slid from the file to Jaks. He growled a little before standing. Jaks had been warned. S'ric had even been considerate in that he'd have waited until they were back to the cabin before doing anything drastic. But that was gone with his patience.

S'ric stood then, dragging Jaks up with him. Not in here. With his free hand, S'ric snatched the file before making his way toward the door. He had enough patience to make it to the door, enough patience to carry him to the ally next to the inn, and that was where it ended. Right around the corner, S'ric pinned Jaks to the cold wall. "You have a breath to take off what clothes you don't want me to rip off," he growled before jerking the neckline of the coat back to expose the bite he'd left not too long ago. It had stopped bleeding, but there was still blood around the wound. Which he fixed rather quickly by biting Jaks again, in the same spot. He'd regretted not bringing a blade with him. Lucky enough for Jaks, though it would mean S'ric would have to wait until they were back at the cabin. The folder was tossed to the snow where, luckily, it landed close enough to the building the wind didn't blow it away. That and it was heavy enough to withstand a little breeze.

The taste of Jaks' blood turned most of his lethal anger into excitement. The taste, sight, and smell of blood was a heady thing to the werewolf. Like vodka to an alcoholic, he turned the bite into a sucking kiss that might have been sensual if not for the way his teeth scraped along Jaks' skin to keep the flow steady.

He was actually going to do it. Jaks heart thumped in his chest and he gave a whimper when he was hauled up and away out the Inn, his hands waving wildly and his green eyes glaring at the people who were watching him get dragged out. Bunch of cowards. Bunch of frozen cowards. Jaks let out a gasping sob once they were outside and jerked off to the side when he was pinned against a frozen wall.

Jaks eye twitched and he smirked, but it looked more like a grimace. Take off what he didn't want ripped off? Jaks foot went to one boot, his head staying level and his eyes closed tightly, by the time he'd removed his boots and was standing barefoot in the snow S'rics teeth were pressed back into the wound on his neck and he cried out, none of the previous sick pleasure he'd gotten out of the initial bite was there.

Teeth grinding against the wound had him gasping and panting, but his hands went to the front of his pants and he pushed them down, stepping out of them until they were in a pile by his boots. Jaks was not going to lose another pair of pants, ones he was out of those he moved his hands moved to S'rics neck and he turned his mouth towards the werewolfs ear. "Fuck you, S'ric." his voice was quiet as he began to shiver from the cold, but his hands remained on S'rics neck, his finger nails digging in where they could.

He wasn't paying much attention to what Jaks was doing. He liked the blood, and was more involved in that then the minimal movements that the elf was doing. At least the distraction gave Jaks enough time to remove whatever he wanted to survive S'ric's attentions. He bit into a spot higher, putting enough pressure to draw more blood. He was pulled from his small 'feast' on Jaks' neck when there was a cool sensation on his own neck. It was a part of S'ric's body that was rather sensitive, what with the importance that was put into biting and the like. He stopped biting, a growl still in his throat, as the elf actually whispered, "Fuck you, S'ric."

S'ric actually smiled against Jaks' neck, running his tongue over the wound while he felt more pressure along his neck where Jaks' nails were. It didn't hurt, but it was a new... sensation. The werewolf leaned back enough to look at Jaks', his rather cold smile still in place as his hands gripped the front of his coat. It took two jerks before the fabric gave way, ripping down the front. His shirt lasted a breath longer before most of Jaks was now exposed to the cold. From there, his hands passed over his bare flesh and down to his hips. One hand gripped the back of Jaks' thigh, hauling him higher. More to S'ric's... hips level. He pinned him there by leaning his upper half against Jaks'. This put them very, very close as S'ric's other hand went to work on his own pants. Close enough that Jaks could feel the warmth of S'ric's breath, and the feel of the even exhales. No matter how excited S'ric got, his breathing was typically level. Even. It quickened some during the height of passion, but otherwise, the werewolf almost never panted.

Being so focused on the taste of Jaks' blood, and the fact he now had the elf essentially naked, meant he paid absolutely no heed to the occasional citizen that wandered past. Who couldn't help but notice there was a small, partially nude elf between S'ric and the wall. With his legs drawn around S'ric. It was very, very obvious what the werewolf intended, and the position caused reactions anywhere from disgust, to embarrassment. But so long as S'ric wasn't hurting anyone (Jaks was no longer part of the 'anyone' group), most were content to just ignore him. Like a blizzard, you simply dealt with it, and moved on with your life.

Holy did his neck sting.

Jaks was more focused on the neck stinging than he was about having a bare ass or that people could look at his rather shapely legs. Jaks hated himself from arching into the lick, hated how he didn't even struggled to keep S'ric from ripping his shirt and jacket down the front. Of course, Jaks had to pause, wondering what the point was, he already took his pants off, what did S'ric want with his chest?

A shuddering sigh and the elf was lifted to fit against S'ric, the red on his face going deeper and his head tilting to the side, hissing in pain when he moved the fresh wounds. Jaks turned his head back, his hands shaking as he moved his arms up S'rics shoulders, up his neck, through his hair. When S'ric got started, Jaks eyebrows drew upwards in pain, his breath coming out in rhythmic gasps, but his thumbs brushed over S'rics lips before the elf leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the lips.

Then it began, with each thrust, each movement S'ric gave worse and worse things poured past Jaks lips while his hands stroked the werewolves cheeks and lips, his neck, dipping down the front of his shirt to press cold fingertips to warm chest. As the words Jaks said got worse, Jaks moved his hips, hands moving from stroking S'rics face to clutching at his shirt and clinging.

The little elf didn't know what he was thinking, but stealing some sort of sick enjoyment out of this seemed like the right thing to do to piss S'ric off. When it was done, Jaks made a point of moaning loudly and going limp, his eyes hooded and his breath coming out in short gasps. Of course he wasn't thinking about the blood that slowly dripped onto the snow, he was used to that part...

But damn were his feet cold. With his breath still coming out in short gasps, Jaks lifted his head, face red from embarrassment and shame mixed with anger, " Can you let me go now? My feet are cold."

There were some things that caught the werewolf by surprise, and they were usually not... pleasant? Innocent? And S'ric didn't mind any of it. What having favorites over the 2 thousand or so years he'd been alive had taught him that everyone responded in a different way. Some withdrew mentally, and became a challenge to get a response from them. He usually ended up breaking them in one form or another, pushing too hard, too aggressively. Some couldn't help but respond to what he did. So when Jaks touched him lightly, even kissed him, the werewolf was very unfazed. S'ric had lay claim to Jaks and his body, meaning that S'ric would do what he wanted... and in a roundabout way, would let Jaks get away with some things. The touching and kissing were a part of it. If that made Jaks happy, then by all means...

What S'ric found to be an enjoyment is the string of obscenities and curses that spilled from the elf as soon as he'd started. Each curse encouraged S'ric to drive his hips harder against Jaks. His hold on Jaks' thigh soon became bruising in order to brace him further. He ever growled with approval when he felt Jaks hips move with his.

S'ric finished harshly, knowing he'd hurt Jaks this time, as he had a couple before. What was mildly surprising was the moan, then slackness that followed. S'ric breathed against Jaks' neck, on the side he'd ravished. Some of the blood was smeared along his chin and cheek, not that he cared. Pleased with his elf, S'ric idly licked the wound lazily, in no rush to pull out or move away. Until, of course, he was reminded they were in an ally, and that Jaks' resistance to cold was non-existent. His hand idly caressed where his bruising grip had been before he pulled away from Jaks with a soft grunt. He shrugged out of his coat, pulling the shredded one off of Jaks before offering his own. He used the rags to clean himself off before adjusting his pants, then discarded the fabric while picking up the file.

Not the reaction he'd been aiming for. Of course him going harder and bruising his legs was something Jaks had planned on, but the touches and kiss didn't faze him. The elf tilted his head back, still breathing heavily, his chest heaving he let go of S'ric but his fingers were still curled, head tilted to the side so S'ric could leak at his neck. It stung. The licks didn't feel good or send shivers at all.

Jaks was physically numb.

But his brain was still on high wire and his green eyes watched S'ric. What to do. Jaks didn't want to die, but he couldn't think of any way to leave without freezing to death or – The missions. Jaks froze, letting out a soft cry of pain when S'ric moved away from him and his feet were moved into the cold snow again. Confused noises left Jaks throat when S'ric pulled off the remnants of his shirt and coat and offered up his jacket.

Great.

Juuuust fucking great.

First he practically bites a chunk out of his neck, then he rapes him in an alley, and now he was offering his coat. Way to screw with my head, Jaks thought bitterly before gently taking the coat and putting it on, the sleeves were too long and the waist of it hovered past his butt, but Jaks bent down all the same to put his pants on, hissing with pain when he fastened them and bent over again to put on his boots.

He felt dirty.

Jaks kept the coat closed, it was delightfully warm and Jaks concentrated on that while his neck, legs, and ass stung. The sleeves fell to low and Jaks kept having to stretch his arms to have his hands free. Jaks openly glared at everyone who so much as glanced as him, he squared his shoulders and took a breath. "I'm going back to your cabin." And Jaks started to walk, his steps were slow and he only got six of them before he collapsed to his hands and knees to beat and hit at the snow on the ground, his head going down.

Plan one failed. Fist clenched while he stayed on his knees, he'd think of something. The missions. He'd... Figure something out. He'd be good. A good little pet. He could play that game. Make his body clay for S'ric to mould, wriggle and flail like the werewolf liked. A dark grin played on Jaks mouth before it turned back into a grimace. He could do this. It took some effort, but Jaks stood up again, his head down. "Please? It's cold."

Jaks probably wouldn't have been so keen on going back to the cabin if he knew what S'ric had planned. For now though, he was going to pretend, and act, and then he'd be free, one way or another.

While S'ric was resistant to the cold, he was not immune. The shirt would not be enough to break the insistent wind that was kicking up a storm. It'd be better if they were back before it started, thought that was more for Jaks sake than S'ric's. Since he wouldn't shift in town, he'd just have to get over it. The cold wasn't something that bothered him, but in excessive amounts, like heat, tended to irk the werewolf. Given that he was still miffed about the elf trying to run away, well, he didn't want to linger too long. What had been a furious S'ric was now a mildly content one, though he had every intention of punishing Jaks. Except now it'd be a mixture of punishment and pleasure. As with anything that had to do with S'ric and gratification, what was usually wonderful for him was terrifying to others. Beatings and fights were a gentle snowfall to the blizzard that was his knifeplay. He fought viciously, but always with the aim to end it as fast as he could. When it came to other areas in his life that held pain, whether inflicted on himself or someone else, the longer it lasted the better. As of yet, he'd never had someone last a whole night when he brought out his knives. He always struck the limit before morning, sometimes a mere hour or so into it. Sometimes it ended in sex, sometimes it ended when the other person passed out for longer than an hour. Each and every night was different.

He watched Jaks take a couple steps away and declare they were going back to the cabin. Which was fine with S'ric, since he'd planned that anyways. However, he did feel compelled to ask, "Was there anything you needed in town before we leave?"

Then Jaks fell. Frowning a little, S'ric took the couple of steps to bring himself next to the elf. He was about to ask if he was ok, but Jaks eventually stood. The werewolf made a mental note that he should take it easy on him, give him some time to recover after this evening, and before they went hunting. The frown was fixed on his expression until Jaks then added, "Please? It's cold." After which, the frown faded a fraction.

The werewolf wasn't real thrilled to hear this. It'd been awhile since he'd had someone more susceptible to... cold... and bruising... and pain... than he was. Given that he'd already taken Jaks for his own though, it wasn't that he blamed the elf so much as he simply realized he had to adjust his own behavior. It was S'ric's strange possessive nature that made him accepting of any faults, flaws, or weaknesses once he'd selected a favorite. It just never occurred to him afterwards that he could trade in for a better... person... He just quit looking until something major happened, such as the boredom. Which was terribly, terribly rare. Usually, he simply outlived his favorites. The werewolf lived a stressful, hard life. Those that were along for the ride tended to be affected by it, whether the cold and some illness got to them, or one of S'ric's high priority marks did... "If you're still cold, I can carry you back. There's a storm coming." The last thing S'ric wanted was for Jaks to get sick. Well, maybe not the –last- thing, but it was certainly low on his 'wish' list.

Jaks stood still, the wind picked up and the back of the coat picked up in the wind, trailing on the ground again. Green eyes looked at his fingers, red, delicate, they trembled along with him, his legs were still cold, his neck ached, his back ached, his thighs ached.

The elf briefly closed his eyes and he ducked his head and sighed, his hair a tangled mess as he slowly lifted his head, turning slightly to S'ric to smirk, his eyes hooded as he looked at the werewolf's chest. "Yeah." His voice was hoase, slowly he lifted a hand to pull it through his tangled hair, pushing it over a long cold ear. "You should get some oil." Jaks gave a nod, remembering that horrible day.

The elf had been on a dig, falling down a hole and landed on his butt, needless to say, his bottom and back hurt, and apparently it looked like he'd been up to something else. One of the more... Flamboyant men at the site had suggested oil. It didn't really help with the back ache, but it made the 'other' part not hurt. It took Jaks a few minutes to understand, but when he finally did he was mortified and he never forgot it.

Who knew it would come in handy.

Jaks had actually hoped it never would.

But now that it had, he'd take the situation by the horns and try not to get stabbed by it.

The elf made himself shudder at that mental image. "I..." Jaks gave a tremble and made a vocal noise to express just how cold he was, he hadn't meant to make the noise, so he quickly turned to look at S'ric, worried. "I'd like that. Being carried I mean. I... Snow." Jaks took a shaky breath, his head still down his voice was quiet and defeated. "I'll wait here. I... Walking hurts."

And it's all your fault, you bastard.

Jaks bit his tongue hard enough to bleed to keep those words behind his lips, his hands trembled at his sides and his shoulders shook, it took all his effort to stay standing, so the little elf stood in the huge jacket with his head down. Looking utterly defeated, and thinking of horrible new ways to attempt to get away once they were out of the tundra.

The smirk was unexpected, making S'ric wonder if he should reconsider Jaks' stamina. And the request was strange. He'd heard a lot of mundane ones, but this was a first. Not that he'd say no. It was simple, easy, and cheap, but mainly, he saw no reason to say no. He was about to turn and lead the way to the store, but the sound Jaks made turned S'ric's attention back to him. He was still cold? Now he did frown. And not just the ghost of one. The heat requirement for the elf was a little higher than he thought. Of course, S'ric wasn't leaving Jaks to stand here either. The elf wouldn't be leaving his sight for quite some time since his last attempt to run away. Even if he claimed to be too tired to move.

S'ric eyed his elf for a moment then asked, "How do you want to be carried?" Given what parts of him might be cold, S'ric thought he'd offer his elf a choice. Then carry him to the store so he could get whatever sort of oil he wanted. On the way back, he'd shift into a wolf and be a warmer source. S'ric didn't usually buy oil, save for lights, which meant he didn't know what Jaks would want in particular. Until he had an answer, S'ric altered where he was standing to bear the brunt of the wind. He was tall enough, and bigger than Jaks, so it actually worked. It also meant he was rather close, though waiting on an answer.

Again with the surprises.

Jaks didn't think he was being unreasonable with being cold. It was the tundra. It was damn cold!

Nothing up until this point had been so...  Embarrassing. Violent sex against a wall in public? No problem.

Hey, how would you like to be carried?

Jaks looked away and down.

Well... Jaks gave a sigh and looked around for the general shop. Pride was his downfall, and he sure as hell wasn't going to be carted around like a broken toy. "In your arms." Jaks moved his arms so they were bent in front of him, "like this. But after, I can walk for now." His voice was solid and he took shaky steps, slipping and hissing as he landed on his knees to stand up again and walk to the general store.

He went in without permission from S'ric, his head held high, the store keeper gave him a quick look before being interested in writing on a piece of paper and Jaks took quiet steps down the isle, his keen eyes scouring. Like Jaks knew what to get, so he grabbed the one that looked familiar, of course he went bright red when he snagged it between his fingers. Remembering how the man went through the best kind and how to not look suspicious while he got it.

Well, the 'not looking suspicious' was sort of out the window, the shop keeper had a wonderful view of the alley. Jaks walked back to the counter and placed the oil down, his face straight but his cheeks burning, not about to take any more charity from S'ric, Jaks shoved his hand into his pants pocket, a little hidden pocket inside his pocket that held a single silver coin, it was obviously too much but he threw it onto the counter anyway and walked back out, putting the oil into one of S'rics coats pockets as he walked back out into the cold. If S'ric had followed him, Jaks had ignored him while he went about the business of getting something to ease his... Time... with his favourite werewolf.

S'ric was about to pick him up as he'd been shown, but apparently Jaks wanted to go a little more on his own. Which only confirmed S'ric's thought that if he'd left him alone the elf would've found some way to sneak off. Though, when he fell, S'ric amended that thought to Jaks would try to sneak off, fall often, and end up with S'ric furious once again.  The werewolf was, however, rather neutral about how Jaks made his way to the store. He wanted to walk, that was fine. S'ric followed a stride or so behind, wanting to get out of the cold now. It was starting to annoy him. Once inside, he let Jaks wander on his own while he picked up some odds and ends that would be needed while traveling. Might as well get them now while he was here. It consisted of things Jaks would need, since S'ric lived mostly off the land. But while a completely carnivorous diet was perfect for him, human and elves needed a little more sustenance. Dried fruits and vegetables, though he disliked them. Having taken care of the minimal amount of shopping he was going to do, he paid the man then waited by the counter for Jaks. Much to the shopkeeper's chagrin.

He didn't have to wait for very long. S'ric did quirk a slender brow when Jaks threw money at the man for the oil, then moved to follow him. He didn't mind, but rather, found it curious. But if Jaks wanted to spend what he had, S'ric was fine by it. He never required his favorites spend any money, but cared little if it made them feel better. Once they'd made it to the middle ot the street, which was now practically empty since the wind had picked up significantly... and it was starting to snow... S'ric took two quick steps and essentially scooped Jaks up, holding him as requested. Since there was no one out and about... and S'ric was getting cold, he shifted with Jaks in his arm. The fur was more of a deterrent to the cold than the undershirt had been. The coat and shirt combo was usually enough to keep the hot blooded shifter content. But just taking one away drastically changed that. As a werewolf, Jaks more or less protected from most of the cold. In this form, S'ric's arms were significantly larger, and while he was bipedal, he still leaned forward some. It created a nice area against S'ric's chest that was relatively wind and snow free.

Walking with the majority of the wind to his back, and in this form, meant he made a little better time getting back to the cabin. Of course, by the time they did arrive, what had started out as a storm had turned into a full blown blizzard. S'ric pushed the door open, then closed while he almost gently set Jaks down. After which he shook the snow from his fur before shifting back. Since they'd been gone, and there was no fire, that was the first order of business. Besides, the fire was needed for what he had in mind. Absently, as he worked on getting the fire started, he asked, "Are you hungry?"

Jaks gasped quietly when S'ric lifted him up and held him like he asked. The elf was sure that his head was going to explode sooner or later from all the blushing he'd been doing lately.

Felt weird. Looked weird.

One second there's a huge man, next it's the furry beast who he petted that one night all those days ago. Jaks hadn't really seen the inky coloured werewolf since that night, always being asleep or curled up somewhere when S'ric left or came home. No. Not home. It wasn't his home. It was S'rics home. It was Jaks prison. A frozen hell for him to stay in.

Jaks cuddled closer to the furry chest, his fingers clinging to the fur and his face moving closer, eyes closed. He didn't sleep, but he spent the trip being sleepy and nuzzling closer to the warmth that was S'ric's furry beast form. Hated the tundra. Hated it so damned much.

Once at the cabin, Jaks was set down and he stumbled before falling onto his knees again. Back to the cage. Jaks was pleased for a moment that he couldn't sing or he'd be like a caged bird. Now, what to do. Jaks selfishly kept the jacket as he slowly crawled towards the pile of furs before pressing his face into the corner he'd kept sleeping in when S'ric was finished with him.

It wasn't until he'd curled himself up in the furs did he pull off S'rics jacket, pushing it away while Jaks tucked his knees up and moved his hands to his face, his eyes closed and his hair knotted. He'd finger comb it later. Jaks was more drained than he was tired, it felt nice to have his eyes closed, but he wasn't about to fall asleep.

Still needed to think of things. Running in snow was out. Trying to escape in the tundra was a no. Next time. He'd do it next time. He'd face the music whether it was a bad pitch or a soothing note, for now... But...

Next time.

Jaks lifted his head slowly when S'ric asked if he was hungry, and he gave a grunt. "No. I'm fine. Thanks though, maybe later." To irritated, to angry and far to annoyed with himself to be hungry right now.

S'ric didn't mind if Jaks laid down now. He had thing to set up. The fire, mostly, and the fact he was hungry. Once it was rather large, he stood and went to a cabinet. There were several along the wall where he kept what supplies were needed, and stored his knives on the top shelf. One that would be out of reach for the shorter elf. Not that it mattered. He pulled two blades down. One knife was rather dull, and made of simple steel. The other was slender, with a slight curve to it. Almost delicate, with a razor sharp edge. It was longer than the blunt one, with a plain leather handle where the blunt one's handle was metal. He set the shiny blade on the table, his hand running over it almost affectionately, before he took the other to the fire, sliding the blade along the bottom embers. Obviously with the intent to heat it.

Once that was set up, S'ric glanced back to Jaks before shifting again. He was hungry, and he wanted his energy for what he had planned. Without a word, the werewolf pushed his way out of the cabin and into the darkening storm. It'd take him awhile to find food, and a little longer to fill himself and then come back. Hopefully by then, Jaks would have gotten some rest... and his one blade would be very, very warm. It was all part of what he had planned.

Jaks heard him move things around, but he didn't pay attention. Too warm and too drained to do anything of interest that involved even lifting his head. Jaks kicked off his soiled pants once he heard the door close, by that time he was toasty warm inside the furs and wearing the pants disgusted him. Blood and... Jaks sat up and finger combed his hair, eyes down casted as he sat, his chest naked.

Giving a quick glance towards the door, Jaks stood up, wincing at the fresh bruises on his thighs. His fingers trailed up his body, hickeys were just about everywhere on his torso, indents from less-than-gentle bites. Jaks moved his hand to his neck and gently pressed on the bite mark, hissing when it stung at his tough.

For an elf, he was far from graceful. What elf got kidnapped by a werewolf? Jaks kneeled on the floor, completely oblivious to the knifes S'ric had left around the cabin, too preocupied with his tangled hair and his bruised self. The bruises on his hips made his face hot, recalling how S'ric would hold his hips when he got to forceful. It was only going to get worse, too. He'd messed up, he'd run, then he'd freaked out at the elf.

Then the snow...

Jaks slammed his fists against the floor with a cry of rage before he dug his fingers into his palms and closed his eyes, turning his head away from the fire. He'd sleep. He'd probably need it. Jaks stood up again, wincing, his hand going to the still new bite marks as he kneeled on the furs and wrapped himself in them, closing his eyes and falling into a light dreamless sleep.

At least Jaks' hair was nice again. There was a plus. He hadn't noticed the knives though, had been to focussed on himself to even bother examining anything. Which was stupid, he could have been waiting at the door to stab S'ric when he got back, but no. Little elfy was taking a nap instead.

By the time S'ric had found a stag, caught the beast, and ate his fill, true twiling had settled over the landscape. Given how it was snowing now, it'd been dark for awhile. But the night had a different feel to it, especially to a werewolf. It was like a rough internal clock, where he could make base assumptions on what time it was depending on how close 'night' felt. This became wildly more accurate the day of a full moon. Which was still a week or so away. Rather than rushing home, the werewolf did a small circuit of his territory. He'd planned on being back in his cabin for a bit, and didn't want there to be any nasty surprises.

When he was finally standing in front of the cabin door, he was very awake, and looking forward to what he was going to do to Jaks. He wondered where the elf's limit was, wondering how much pain, how much blood, he'd get before Jaks passed out, or S'ric succumbed and ended the play to have sex with him. Thus far, S'ric had... never... stopped early to finish it off with sex. The desire was always there, strong and insistant... but the sight of blood, the taste of it, and the sounds that he imagined Jaks would make were simply too good to just... end. After this, he'd have to let the elf heal. Which meant he'd have to be thorough so as to be sated for a couple days. All depending on how Jaks healed.

S'ric pushed the door open, shifting into his human self as he did. He was still dusted in snow as the door was pushed shut, almost quietly. The werewolf eyed the furs, not surprised to see Jaks resting. He'd seemed a little frayed earlier. Part of the reason S'ric had taken his time while hunting. He wouldn't put off this much longer than a couple hours, which seemed a decent enough amount of time for Jaks to regain some of his strength. Methodically, he checked the blade he'd left by the fire, pleased to see that it was very, very, very hot. And because there was no separate handle from the blade, when S'ric touched it, the warmth seared some on if palm. He swayed a little, eyes closed as his body took a moment to both enjoy the sharp, hot pain and to refocus his attention on the present. The burn was already healing, as was usual. Actual fire would destroy the tissue, making it impossible to heal at his supernatural rate. Blisters would be fixed. Prolonged handling of the knife however would leave a lasting wound. Much to S'ric's masochistic delight. Jaks would not be the only one hurt tonight. He left the hot blade in the fire. That was later.

S'ric pulled off his shirt and collected his coat from the furs, doing so with silent grace. He didn't want Jaks awake yet. Next came the pants, which he slid off and piled with the rest of his enchanted clothing. He'd rather not soak it with blood. His own or Jaks. Once naked, he picked up the slender, razor sharp knife from the table and made his way over to the sleeping elf. He crawled over to Jaks, setting the blade within arm's reach while pulled on the furs to reveal some of Jaks' neck. Using his arms to keep his body completely off the elf's, S'ric lightly licked one of his previous bite marks before sucking  on it. They had all night. There was no rush.

Eyes snapped open when the door was opened and closed, he tucked his legs up further and burried his head against his hair, it smelled like trees and pine needles, which made Jaks stare at his chair, seeing as how he hadn't been around any pine needles or even a forest lately. Maybe it was that natural scent thing of his and he just never noticed it before, having been enveloped in S'rics scent. Jaks nuzzled closer to his hair and kept his eyes closed, fully intending to go back to sleep.

The elf ignored the sound of fabric, though of course he knew what S'ric was doing. The guy had been doing it almost ritualistically the past week anyway, Jaks curled up tighter, his face pressing into the furs, his eyes staying closed when the fur was pulled down and S'ric moved his mouth to Jaks neck. A startled gasp and his brows drew together, his eyes squeezing closed. "No..." He gave a pathetic sigh of the word and nuzzled away, drawing his arms up.

Did this guy ever stop?

Jaks wanted him to rush. The elf wanted to go back to sleep, not be up all night having weird kinky sex or... Neck sucking. Jaks lifted a hand to push at S'rics face with the back of his hand, moaning softly. "Don't." He opened his eyes a sliver before closing them again, ineffectively dismissing the werewolf, turning his head back and away. If it was any other night he'd bark and flail, but tonight, not so much, didn't feel like it tonight.

Rather, Jaks wasn't going to bark and flail until S'ric started what he really planned, simple sex was going to be with a limp glaring body, the knife play would have him twitching and flailing. It wasn't exactly a good thing that Jaks was unobservant.

Usually, defiance annoyed him. And usually he'd have been more persistent, which translated into aggressiveness for S'ric. Usually, being the case. Tonight, however, Jaks was being punished for his earlier display. That he tried to wave off S'ric actually made the werewolf smile against his neck. Why? Because every bit of defiance was more of a reason to use the knife on his little elf. But oh, where to start? And how? These little details had S'ric shivering with suppressed eagerness. There was fun to be had in letting his favorite know beforehand what he was planning. The dread of it all was sometimes sweeter than the screams he'd coax from their throat. But the surprise, the first slash of pain where they had no explanation... well, there was a certain wildness about that. Which should he use for Jaks? S'ric actually pulled away with the brush of Jaks hand, as though accepting the dismissal. He recalled how terrified the elf had been when S'ric had found him in the ally. When he had been aware of what was going to happen. Oh, just thinking about that made S'ric shiver again. So he'd tell Jaks.

S'ric chuckled a little as he drew the fur further off of Jaks body, his gaze sliding along the tattoo on his exposed back. His hand slid along the fur and touched the now chill handle of the slender blade, drawing it close. He ran the end of the hilt along Jaks' back. It would be cold, foreign, and rough. Hopefully enough to make Jaks realize that something not so normal was going on. If not, well, S'ric could always prick him to get a reaction. The werewolf was already rather excited, the possibilities.... the knowledge he was going to hurt Jaks, and that the elf would bleed... was a very stimulating thing for him. Even though he'd not so much as made more contact than the sucking along his neck... Oh, S'ric was going to have some fun.

He moved away?

Jaks gave a quiet sigh of relief and closed his eyes again, turning his head. Then they snapped open again.

It was cold and It felt weird on his back.

"What are you doing?" His voice was shaky, Jaks moved away from the cold foreign object, his mind going over a few possibilities, of course they were all horribly perverted and none of them were actually what S'ric had planned at all. Jaks couldn't even begin to fathom what S'ric really had planned.

Jaks eased away from the cold object, turning his body so he was on his stomach, his face burried in the furs but his lower half still under S'ric. " Just get on with it already!" he said, his voice strained and high pitched from his distress and general grumpiness towards the situation. He couldn't stop it. Jaks knew that no matter what he did he couldn't stop it from happening. The sooner S'ric started whatever he had planned, the sooner he'd finish and the sooner Jaks could sleep.

S'ric found it so terribly amusing that the elf didn't know what was going on. The werewolf's humor was not what some would call normal, or nice, or... anything associated with the gaiety laughter was supposed to represent. Just the sound of a chuckle from the man carried more painful promises than any man holding a sword... who happened to be drunk and already mad. And it was that sound that slipped from S'ric's throat after Jaks rolled on his stomach, away from him. And then proclaimed, " Just get on with it already!"

S'ric was more than happy to oblige. He actually sat on Jaks, straddling him so that his tattooed back was in front of him. He took the flat side of the tip and pressed it to the back of Jaks neck, lightly drawing the blade down. Not cutting. Not yet. "You remember your earlier attempt to get away?" His voice was soft and secretive, like Jaks and he had something personal to discuss that was best whispered unless someone else might hear. "How you ran from me..." he continued, the sound taking on an almost breathy quality as he became more eager to start. The flat of the blade moved down to the of Jaks ass, right above where S'ric was sitting. "And then, how you... misbehaved in the inn?"

What's this? Had S'ric magically learned to converse normally? The werewolf happened to enjoy informing his little favorites just why he was upset. Fuel for the fire, as it were.

Wincing at the noise, Jaks closed his eyes and took a deep breath, holding it.

This wasn't going right. It wasn't supposed to be like this. S'ric was supposed to bend him over, do a poke and hump and that was it. This was... This was making him worry. His eyes widened and his breath quickened when S'ric began to talk. Talking wasn't good. S'ric talking wasn't good.

Jaks sucked in his breath, his arms up and his head pillowed against his forearms, shifting his hips so that at least those were comfortable. The elf stayed quiet, his chest grew tight while S'ric talked to him like a naughty puppy, his fingers dug into the fur and his breath was shaky. Anger was the cause of the tears that welled in his green eyes, that let the puff of breath push past his lips.

The elf took a deep breath before he closed his eyes, two fat tears dripping onto the furs. This was a trial. He'd pass it. It sunk in just what S'ric had planned, and it scared the shit out of him. Before he took a breath and opened his eyes, "Yes. I remember. And I don't regret it." He swallowed and turned his eyes to look at S'ric over his shoulder, his eyes falling into an easy glare. There were two outcomes for tonight, he would either die or survive.

As an elf, Jaks wanted to survive, he was young, this was a pause in his life, in a hundred years this would be a memory of someone else that he wouldn't have to dwell on. Jaks fingers tightened on the furs and he turned his head, his eyes staring across the room and his lip pressed into his mouth between his teeth.

Of course S'ric knew Jaks hadn't regretted it. Though he lacked the social skills and time spent in public to know most basics about human interaction and the reasons behind their actions, he was not an idiot. No one was sorry they'd done something, they were always sorry they got caught. The same applied to Jaks now. Which only made S'ric smile because, at least, Jaks was going to be honest. And if he'd learned anything, it was that the elf had quite a mouth on him. And in this setting, he could get it more trouble depending on what he said. Why? Because S'ric would take any excuse to further fuel his actions. Not that he needed one to begin with, but it helped.

With the blade pressed at the base of Jaks spine, he applied some pressure. The slender point of the blade slipped into his skin with minimal fuss. "You should know better than to run away from me," he purred in a deep, soft voice. "You've already proven your ineptitude in the snow. Why even bother?" He pushed the blade further beneath the skin, in that very dangerous area above the base of his spine. Too deep and S'ric would have a handicapped elf on his hands. "Try not to move too much," he continued in what constituted as a deadly pur from the werewolf. "I'd hate to knick something vital and you lose your ability to walk, much less run." He could see the outline of the blade just beneath the layer of skin, steadily going up. The entrance that the blade used steadily widened as the metal did, blood beginning to ooze around the edges. Because of the location, S'ric wouldn't be surprised if Jaks could feel the pressure of the blade along his spine, beneath the skin. Luckily for the elf, S'ric had his blade work down to a precise art. He wouldn't hurt Jaks unless he wanted to, wouldn't severely disfigure unless that was his aim. Centuries of testing and toying, experimenting, had taught S'ric a great deal about knives.

Fingers tightened against the fur and Jaks tensed, it took ever ounce of will power to keep his breath from heaving, to keep the blade still. His tatttoo. Jaks squeezed his eyes shut, bit down on his tongue, felt the blood drip past his lips onto the furs. This was a huge fuck up.  The elf's mind reeled, going over the day. Why did he run? It was stupid. There was snow. Where would he go anyway? Obviously there was no way to apologize to S'ric, he wouldn't take it. This was his price to pay.

His blood was hot and wet on his back, welling up underneath the blade to drip down between his legs, off to the sides, he gave a shuddering sob and let his mouth open briefly for a wet bloody wail of pain. "Stop it!" Blood pooled around his mouth when he opened it to scream, his eyes were wet, his ears were red. Jaks didn't move though, he just clutched at the furs and kept his eyes squeezed shut, he had to run, if he became a cripple he'd fall onto a blade on purpose.

A lifetime as a cripple or a night of unimaginable pain.

Jaks was no fool. A night can be forgotten, a dark memory to be outshone by a bright one. It was an odd sensation, the pressure of the blade in his skin while the pain flared up around it. He squeezed his eyes shut, S'ric was at his back, and Jaks had a horrible feeling that the werewolf was going to carve out his tattoo, so, Jaks, being the inappropriate chatterbox that he was, opened his mouth again, voicing his thoughts with minimal grunting and a shaky breath. " Are you going to cut off my tattoo?" Simple cuts and pokes could be survived, Jaks didn't scar, but if something as major as his tattoo being carved out... He'd remember this forever in that case, and that wasn't a very sought after thought for the young elf.

The wail made him pause. Not because he was concerned, ooohhh no. Rather, S'ric wasn't going to push the blade further while a shiver shook his form. The sound was heavenly, wildly erotic. It pieced his sensitive ears and caressed a part of his mind that most people never had. There was little he enjoyed more than making people scream. Given that the thick scent of Jaks oh so sweet blood hung in the air... the man was in paradise. He watched the blood create a red line on Jaks' skin, the color so very dark. Only when he sure he could continue did he do so, in essence, sheathing the blade in Jaks' back. The outline was beautiful to see. The upraised portion defined the path the blade took, making it so very visible given S'ric's unobstructed view. What's more, there was a morbid sense of pride S'ric had for Jaks. Despite the pain of the blade slicing through the thin layer beneath his skin, despite the cold pressure of the metal on his spine, the elf was staying very still. S'ric had learned how damaging this could be, had nicked others before. That's what made it so very thrilling. It's not that he wanted to handicap Jaks, he just wanted to make sure he understood what happened when he misbehaved.

"Very, very good," he praised is a hushed voice, thick with desire. As though Jaks had not screamed a moment ago, or asked about the removal of the tattoo. Which was a very, very curious idea. S'ric rather liked the design on Jaks, it was a controlled mar on an otherwise perfect landscape. But there was a dark part of S'ric that writhed with carnal want at the idea of skinning it off of him. He shivered again, pausing with the blade halfway in Jaks.  He closed his eyes briefly, taking soft breaths that almost sounded as though he were panting. It was during this pause that he answered. "No." The answer was almost unheard it was so gentle. "Not tonight." Would he some other time? The chance was possible. And if he liked him with the tattoo, it could always be put back on. Or touched up, if S'ric happened to cut a piece off of Jaks.

Once he'd managed to get control of himself, he then tilted the blade horizontally. Not a lot, as that would be very bad for Jaks. But enough that he'd feel the sharp pressure of one of the edges pressing closer to his spine, while the other threatened to cut his skin. The tilt was minimal, but given the location, every bit of change would feel like an earthquake.  "Don't move," he warned in a throaty hiss as he prepared. It was the expectation that made him hold this pose for several breaths. His free hand moved to rest right next to the blade, applying some pressure and increasing the tension of Jaks' skin over the tilted edge. "Feel free to scream," he said, breathless, before jerking the blade up with enough force that he tore the blade from Jaks' back.

Knowing that the blade was buried in his back made Jaks positive that the next place he ran away in would at least make S'ric work to get him back. His thoughts ran wild in his head and his breath hissed out of his mouth, his lips dark red from the blood that left his tongue numb. Eyes were hooded and his face twitched when S'ric said that he'd get to keep his tattoo... Tonight.

Geeze, how generous of him.

Jaks bitterly rolled his eyes before he closed them again and resumed to take even shallow breaths so his chest didn't move. Then S'ric went back to work, tilting the blade, pained gasps pushed past the elfs lips and he squeezed his eyes shut, fingers clawing at the furs. His breath quickened when S'ric spoke, going completely still his breath trapped in his lungs before the werewolf pressed his hand down. No. He wouldn't. Not that.

Jaks did scream, his head threw back, his hair falling into the wound and leaving bloody lines as he moved his head back to press his face against the fur and scream again, shoulders tensing and blood oozing down his back, making his legs and sides sticky. His breath was coming out in hot pants, his lips wet with blood and he gave a shaking breath before he moved to wiggle away. His hands clutching at the furs and dragging them towards him in a failing effort to get away.

The knife wasn't in his back anymore, so he didn't have anything to keep him from freaking out. Jaks hand dipped behind his back to press against the wound, his breath coming out in a loud hiss as he jerked his hand back, bloodied. "What the fuck did you do?!" His voice was higher, hysterical almost, he was leaning up on an elbow, dark hair stuck to his cheek and lips by the saliva and blood.   "I get it, I shouldn't have run away, please stop." This hurt. Jaks wasn't down with things when they hurt.

The scream was better than S'ric could ever imagine, they always were. And he got not one, but two for that cut. His body went rigid as he watched, wanting the moment to be ingrained. From the way Jaks tensed up, to the quivering of his body, and the bloody trail his hair created... It electrified the werewolf, made every fiber of his body singe with want. The supreme attraction, the deepest bout of emotion he'd ever feel, came from inflicting pain such as this. Nothing measured up to causing that sort of response. It was a wild mix of predatory hunger, sadistic ecstasy, and plain old cruelty. All nicely wrapped up in a sort of possessive need. Jaks was his, the body he'd just marred, the one with the rivulets of blood sliding down his sides, belonged to S'ric. Through that, he wanted to touch, taste, feel....

S'ric's heart hammered in his chest, his breathing soft and shallow. He smiled just a little as Jaks yelled at him, though he wasn't paying attention. Rather, he brought the blade up, studied the glint of blood along the metallic surface, before promptly licking it clean. He didn't even care he cut his tongue while doing so, growling softly with pleasure at the mingled taste. S'ric loved blood. Seeing Jaks wounded, bleeding, was arousing on a level nothing else ever was. The werewolf was aware that Jaks had said something to him, but he didn't care. He wanted to hurt him some more. Without caring what the blood would do to the fur, or the pain Jaks would be in, S'ric grabbed a leg, using it to tip Jaks on his back, before pulling him to S'ric, dragging his wounded back against the fur. He was positioned as he had been before, legs to either side of S'ric's hips. The fur would need replaced, which was hardly a concern of S'ric's right now.

With a focus intent only on what he wanted, S'ric's free hand caught one of Jaks wrists, then the other, before pinning them over his head. This meant S'ric was leaning over the elf, his gaze peering over the expanse of unmarred skin. Where to cut next? His breathing was shallow, excited, as he thought of all the possibilities...

This was it. There was something seriously wrong with this man. Sadistic. Masochistic. Posessive. Could turn into a huge wolf-thing. Jaks turned his head away for a moment, face contorted in pain, his eyes wet but that ended quickly when they widened as he saw S'ric lick the blade free of blood, saw the shallow cut on his tongue. And not care. At all. His eyebrows drew upward and he gave a quiet gasp and another loud cry of pain when he was dragged down the furs, the skin on his back ripping further from the friction.

The elf didn't care about the position, in fact, Jaks currently saw it as a means of distraction, his back stung horribly so he arched up taking pressure off the fresh wound on his back. While Jaks didn't handle the pain well, he could take quite a bit of it before his brain overloaded and he'd pass out. All those previous nights of rape and sex was him sleeping from exhaustion, not because the pain got so unbearable his brain shut down and he slept.

He looked up, breath coming out quickly, he kept his legs around S'ric as leverage to keep his back off the furs. Jaks licked his lips, and that turned into a sharp cry when his arms were held above his head. Not good. Jaks gave a few worried breaths before he looked down, his cheeks heated but Jaks arched furthe, using his shoulders to further arch himself upwards. Jaks wrapped his legs around S'rics waist and ground them together, his eyes closed and his head turned away, exposing the earlier bite marks which were bruising and red.

The elf didn't wiggle so much as grind and move his hips, the wound at his back didn't to much more than throb painfully with his back arched up, but his shoulders were starting to hurt, and his mouth hurt, and his tongue was still bleeding which was evident with the little bead of blood sliding down the side of his face while he tried to distract S'ric from his obviously intended carving.

S'ric had been so intent on trying to figure out what he wanted to do next with the blade, he practically ignored the way Jaks what moving. Usually, he'd have his full attention on a wiggling Jaks. But with the knife, there were other things to consider. Like where he wanted to cut next, how he wanted to cut... His chest? Maybe the sides, as they were so very sensitive.

Oh.

S'ric's mind reeled as he felt Jaks' legs tighten around him, but that wasn't what made him pause. Or suck in a sharp breath. No, that was contributed to the fact that Jaks essentially impaled himself. On S'ric. It caught him so off guard the werewolf growled, but in an overly pleased way. It wasn't often he was caught unaware. And even rarer were the times such an event led to a very pleased S'ric. But this one did. And while Jaks didn't have the ability to move too much considering he was holding his lower back off the fur, S'ric was not impaired. With a groan, his hips bucked forward. With enough force to slide Jaks' shoulders on the fur. While S'ric would've went most of the night without taking Jaks this way, he was not about to stop now.

S'ric's gaze slid up Jaks' chest, flickering to his face... and locked in on the trail of blood from his mouth. Want dictated his actions. S'ric leaned back until he was actually sitting, altering the placement of his hands so that he pulled Jaks up with him, effectively sitting Jaks up. Once they were both upright, the hand not holding the knife gripped Jaks' neck and pulled him close. Slowly, as though he were not buried completely in his elf, or Jaks wasn't bleeding enough to fill the room with the intoxicating aroma, he slowly licked away the blood trail that had come from Jaks' mouth. Logic then told S'ric that where the small amount of blood had come from would have more. Never one to usually kiss, that did not mean S'ric didn't know how. But where most were rather timid going into a kiss if they'd never kissed that person before, S'ric did not. His lips were pressed aggressively to Jaks, but that's not what he wanted. With a simple tilt of his head, his tongue pushed past Jaks' lips, demanding access. He could taste the blood from where his elf had bit himself, and he wanted more.

The hand holding the knife was momentarily holding Jaks' ass, occasionally lifting him so Jaks' weight could force him back down on S'ric.  The blade was, for the briefest of moments, forgotten.

Breath hitched when S'ric bucked forward and sent Jaks shoulders up the fur and Jaks legs went tighter, hoping to keep S'ric from moving too much to keep the moving down. This was it, right? Jaks got him finished in this area and S'ric would be happy and warm and content and he'd finally fuck off and leave the little elf in peace. Please. Jaks chest heaved and his face was pale, the elf was far from aroused and the movement from laying to sitting up made him cry out and squeeze his legs tighter, eyes closed.

This pain was far more wanted than the knife. Jaks could deal with this pain, he'd gotten used to this pain.

The tongue to his face made his eyes snap open, drawing back slightly, grossed out. It was one thing to watch someone lick a blade free of blood, it was another to feel a tongue on his face. Jaks winced and then jerked back when S'ric pressed his lips to his. This wasn't going right! What was he doing? S'ric wasn't supposed to... Gross...

Jaks had to keep himself from gagging when the tongue was forced into his mouth, it was one thing for a quick peck on the lips, it was another to have a slimy muscle that belonged to someone else shoved in his mouth. It took him a moment for him to calm down, to move his legs, to move his head.

It hurt. It was horrible. The blade was worse.

In a vain attempt to keep S'ric distracted, Jaks moved, he pressed his tongue against S'rics, moved his hips, and made as many throaty noises as he could. More than half of them were caused from real pain, whether it was from the cut in his mouth being moved or him pushing down onto the werewolf. There was no pleasure to be had here, never was and very likely never would be. Mind was reeling, but he wasn't driven by instincts like S'ric was, he would think of a way to get out this without getting anymore cuts. Or at least tire himself out so he would be a limp body to occasionally twitch and stare at a wall for the remainder of the night.

Both worked for the elf, though the one without any knives at all seemed far more appealing.

Between the taste of Jaks, the blood, the rather sweet way his elf was being moved.... Even S'ric had his limits. There was no part of him that wanted to pull away, his mind locked in the wonderful dance between the blood in Jaks' mouth, and the quick, building rush throughout his body. He was actually so wrapped up that he blade, and even the wound in Jaks' back, was forgotten. A first, considering no one had ever thought to play the werewolf's game. Though the kiss was completely invasive, there was no pain associated with it. The want for blood overrode that, slowing down his exploration of Jaks' mouth to something more thorough, less rushed. Even if his hand gripped Jaks' ass harder and moved him faster. It was an automatic response at this point. The screams before hand had made him more excited than most foreplay could, coupled with the taste of blood...

There was no surprise then that S'ric growled and pulled Jaks down hard, once, twice, before holding him in place. He broke the kiss to actually get a breath of air. Another first, S'ric seemed relatively out of breath. With little ceremony, S'ric released Jaks so he could lay back, wrapped in the calming after effects of his orgasm. His eyes were partially closed, gaze glazed over with hazy satisfaction.

It was several moments before rational thought returned to the werewolf, causing him to watch Jaks. How'd they gotten to an upright position? Why wasn't Jaks more cut up...? Apparently, he'd gotten a little ahead of himself. Blood did that though. S'ric smiled a little as he closed his eyes. Accepting, for the moment, that the point had been delivered... and since he was very content, there was no point in continuing. Unless Jaks did something snappish that warranted it. With the mixed taste of his and Jaks blood, S'ric simply lay on the mussed fur and absently watched Jaks, almost like he wasn't fully aware he was doing so.

Sick satisfaction rushed through his veins.

Chest was heaving, but at the back of his mind, behind his green eyes Jaks was full of sick satisfaction. Jaks had kissed back, rolled his hips, thrust down as hard as he could in hope of getting this reaction. Of course, all his mewls of pain had been real, this victory wasn't pain free, he could feel the ache of it on his thighs, his back, between his legs. But even if it was a small victory, it was still a victory.

Jaks would savour it.

After S'ric had broken off the kiss to take a breath, leaving Jaks dazed and gasping for his own breath wincing and moving slightly, his hands moving down to his thighs rubbing his palms over them as he trembled. Sweat made his hair stick to his forehead and neck, the tips of his hair dried together from the blood.

Jaks stayed still for a moment, unmoving, still sitting on S'ric, afraid of moving, his shoulders were shaking and his breath was coming out in shuddering gasps before he figuered S'ric was either passed out or just dazed, the smile worried him a little but it wasn't until that was done and S'ric was watching him.

As much as he didn't really feel like moving, Jaks rose up on his knees, giving a small whimper of pain as he lifted himself off of S'ric before he moved his leg to one side, still facing S'ric. Not wanting to show him the cut, the wound he'd made. Jaks left it, and all he did was quietly turn so he was facing S'ric and he curled up again, shaking his knees tucked up even though it hurt his back.

It wasn't a peaceful sleep, he woke up with every twitch and movement that wasn't his own. At some point during his sleep he'd rolled onto his back and gave a cry of pain and woke himself up, but after that, laying on his back Jaks got a decent sleep. He would savour this small victory, even if he could already feel how horrible moving would be in the morning.

S'ric fell asleep soon after Jaks did, but faded in and out of real sleep since Jaks kept whimpering. He jerked fully awake when his elf had rolled on his back and screamed with real pain. He mulled over whether he'd get up or not, but he was still feeling rather.... sated... so he remained in place. Long enough to drift off again. The second bout of sleep didn't last as long, but was just as refreshing. S'ric stretched and rolled on his knees. The whole cabin still smelt of blood, sweat, and sex. He found the blade still where he'd discarded it. Which reminded him.... S'ric grabbed the bloodied one then made his way to the fire, almost lazily pulling the other one from it. Even though it sizzled the skin on his palm. He set it on the stone still a part of the fireplace, but where it would actually cool.

From there, S'ric then went about doing the small, menial task of cleaning up after the night. He dressed himself, filled the tub, then pulled a stretch of cloth to be used as a bandage and a brush out of the cabinet. Things that had been left over from previous occupants. Once all that had been taken care of, S'ric crawled back on the fur, noting where it had dried blood with a small smile, before leaning close and lightly nipping at his neck. "Wake up, Jaks."

S'ric shifting woke Jaks up, but he was careful not to start freaking out.

When S'ric got up, Jaks watched with mild interest. Watched him grab the knife, wincing at the meer sight of it, before he watched S'ric go to the fire and pull one out of there. Jaks could hear his flesh sizzle, and he stared, eyes wide for a moment. No. There was no way. Jaks heart skipped a beat and he was very glad he'd pulled the stunt he did, he didn't want to imagine what that hot blade was for.

Jaks eyes rolled up and his eyelids closed down, it took all his effort not to fall asleep after S'ric got dressed, his eyes were closed but he was listening. Or at least he thought he was. Jaks jerked to the side when S'ric nipped at his neck, his hands drawing up and his eyes wide, crying out again when he twisted wrong and it pulled the scab at his back.

"I'm awake." his voice was thick, his tongue was slightly swollen and it hurt to talk. The elf could feel his victory shatter around him when his cheeks and ears turned red with a blush, not being able to believe what he'd done to keep himself from getting hurt. Still, it was one nasty slice on his back instead of many like Jaks figured S'ric originally had planned.

Green eyes were staring at S'rics blue ones, his hands still up slightly defensive. It took a moment for him to calm down, but once he did so Jaks sat up, wincing with pain and moving a hand to his back and one to his mouth to gently probe at his tongue with a finger. "I feel like crap." he spoke around his finger and then gave a humourless chuckle before he let his hands rest between his legs on top of the furs, his head bent forward.

S'ric moved back enough to allow Jaks to sit up without running into him, kneeling while his eyes took stock of his elf. Not in the typically predatory way, but as one might inspect someone they thought was more injured then they were letting on.  The werewolf was thorough in his care for his things, which meant making sure Jaks was –actually- fine, despite what he may say. S'ric had favorites in the past who were neglectful of their own health in the hopes it'd make S'ric leave them alone. Just resulted in him cleaning them, bandaging, and then force feeding them. None of it was pleasant, but S'ric didn't –care- so long as they were physically ok. They could whine, cry, and yell all they liked.

He was usually a good judge of when he'd reached someone's limit, but he'd been proved wrong before. S'ric would rather take the time to clean up Jaks appropriately, and bandage the cut, then have to nurse a sick elf back to health. With a critical eye, he shifted so he could look at the knife would on Jaks' back. The cut had been shallow, or shallow for what he usually did. The force of pulling the knife from his body had bruised him a little, in addition to the rather long cut. It had stopped bleeding, but it was dirty. Needed cleaned, much like the rest of Jaks. "You need to get in the water while it's still hot," S'ric said then, not leaving it up for discussion. "And you'll need to eat today. If you can't stomach any of the dried food here, I'll go get something fresh. And there should be stuff to mix into a soup if that will be easier." His fingers traced around the wound, recalling with what passed for fondness how Jaks had screamed. Twice. Finding that seemed to be his only injury. Only when he was satisfied did S'ric add, "You'll need to sort through your things. We're leaving in the morning. Preferably narrow it down to something you can carry."   He hated having to haul supplies anywhere, since it was easier for him to just... live off the land. Luckily, past favorites had managed to convince the werewolf they still needed some essentials, and they could not just... run across the countryside like he did. At least he, now, he was realistic in his expectations when traveling. Jaks would slow him down, hopefully not too much. Not that he was the sort to rush, he just liked to keep a rigorous pace.

With effort the elf kept his head turned away, his hair hiding his face from the werewolf and his eyes were half closed. Two places hurt. One was a dull ache he was used to by now - he'd been waking up with it since he'd gotten here - the other was a sharp sting, which resulted in Jaks making little hisses of pain when S'ric circled the wound with a finger.

A bath? S'ric made him a bath.

Damn evil, evil man. He'd cut him up and then he made him a warm bath. Jaks could feel an eyebrow twitch. What was wrong with him? One second he wanted to cut Jaks into ribbons and the next he was giving him a warm bath in the frozen tundra after a horrible night that involved a lot of blood and sweat.

Telling him to eat.

Jaks was very confused. One second S'ric is all over him like a rabid wolf in heat, the next he was telling him to eat, to bathe, to pack because they were going. Wait, what? Jaks blinked before he looked at his cases of clothing. His mind went over a few articles of clothing that he'd get before Jaks remembered. There was a hot bath.

The elf gave S'ric a nod before he moved forward, getting onto his hands and knees with a quiet grunt before he stood up, back to the werewolf. His legs trembled and his hands shook, but Jaks walked to the tub, one slow step after the other. Teeth were held together and his shoulders were tense as he walked, it hurt, his legs hurt, his hips hurt.

Once he got to the tub though, it was another story.

Who knew water could make stuff sting?

The cut on his back screamed at him when it was submerged in the water, and every other nick and cut he'd gained the day he tried to run away. Jaks didn't even want to focus on any other pain on his body, so he simple kept his teeth tightly clenched, his knuckles white where they grasped at the edge of the tub. Tipping his head back, Jaks dunked his head and sunk as low as he could go in it, but instead of resurfacing he screamed as loud as he could. The bubbles from his scream, which S'ric could probably hear anyway, broke the surface and Jaks sat back up, looking absolutely miserable.

He could take it though. Jaks gave S'ric a dirty look before he closed his eyes and leaned against the tub. Jaks was going to stay in here until S'ric either pulled him out, or barked at him for staying in so long. "I'll eat whatever, later... I'm... Not hungry." his voice had a quiet airy tone to it before he turned his head away and breathed a quiet sigh.

S'ric slid from the furs after Jaks did, watching the elf wobble over the tub. The cut didn't really need bangades, but stitches would do him so good. There was quite a rend in the skin. While hypothermia was more likely this far north, he didn't want to risk infection after they started traveling. The werewolf gathered up the fur that was bloodied before stepping outside, tossing them next to the cabin. He'd take them further away next time he shifted. Not like he was concerned with anything picking up his or Jaks' scent. If anything, it'd keep other animals away. Even if part of the smell was blood. What predators lingered around or wandered into S'ric's territory either knew to run away from the scent of the werewolf, or were quickly cut down. He wasn't above eating wolves that wandered into his territory.

After pulling the door shut, he went over to one of the other cabinets, this one bigger than the others in the cabin. Four in all, this one went from the floor and was about as tall as S'ric. Sort of doubled as a closet. One of the cabinets had food stuffs, the other various supplies like the bandages, thread, needle, alcohol, his knives, and the last had some left over possessions of previous occupants. Like the brush. S'ric absently thought there might be soap, some sort of lotion, and ... he couldn't remember. That was one cabinet he didn't pay any attention to. From the largest, he pulled another large fur out to replace the old. He only had one spare, but getting another would be easy. S'ric occasionally took prey into town, giving the meat and bones to a tanner who would clean the fur for him. Easy trade. The man got quite a bit of food he didn't have to pay or hunt for, and S'ric didn't have to clean the hide himself. He tossed the fur with the others that hadn't suffered from the night before, then glanced at Jaks when he heard the bubbles breaking the surface of the water. Seeing the elf sit up made him dismiss the action before grabbing the brush, handing it to Jaks, who then 'informed' S'ric that he was not hungry, and that he would eat later. As S'ric watched him, brush still extended, he clarified, "I didn't ask if you were hungry. A asked what you wanted to eat." He'd shove it down Jaks' throat if need be. "And I'm going to stitch the cut in your back. Should help some when you're moving. And help it heal." He waited for him to take the brush so he could fetch the needle and thread.

Jaks grabbed the brush with a quiet snarl and slowly stood up, not bothering to wait until he drip-dried over the tub before he sat down beside it, running the brush through his hair, a puddle slowly forming around his seated self. " Fine. I don't care, I can eat anything as long as it isn't bugs." Stich his back.

Another quiet snarl, of course it paled in comparison to one of S'rics snarls, but it was a grumpy noise all the same. Jaks yanked the brush through his wet hair, his head pulling forward as he brushed it free of tangles violently. The elf pulled his lower lip between his teeth and gave his hair another violent tug with the brush, once he was sure that it was tangle free - Jaks was getting slightly obsessive about his hair in recent days - he stood up and waved the brush towards S'ric.

"I wouldn't need fucking stitches if you didn't cut me!" The hairbrush flew out of his hand towards S'rics feet, on purpose, and Jaks stood there a moment later, his chest heaving from anger, his face and ears red. "What the hell is wrong with you!?" Jaks yelled, obviously at a breaking point after the bout of anger last night and current niceness.

" You cut me and rape me and now you're.. You're... Worried about my cut? About me eating? What the hell does it matter to you if I die, huh?!" Jaks, not having anything else to throw, kept his hands at his sides, fingers clenched so his nails dug into his palm. " You can just go get a new creepy sex-thing and bring them here and do to them exactly what you're doing to me. I hate you! Leave me alone!"

It took a moment for it to sink in, exactly what Jaks had said, but once he realised it, he went pale and his eyes grew wide as he slowly ducked his head and stared at the ground. No. I can't be afraid of him. Not here and not like this. Watch your tongue, Jaks, if you survive this, no more barking, be a good little pet for later. Shit, shit, shit. Jaks lifted his head and slowly took steps backwards, leaving wet foot prints as he went, anticipating a not-so-nice reaction from the large werewolf.

" Fine. I don't care, I can eat anything as long as it isn't bugs." S'ric didn't really care about the added 'not bugs' part, but at least Jaks had accepted he was going to eat. Good, good. Made things easier on both of them. While Jaks fought with his hair, S'ric went to the other cabinet and pulled out what dried meat had been stored. He hunted for food, and some of the leftovers were stored. Seeing as how Jaks hadn't been here very long, he'd not had much of an opportunity to restock. Just some basic food stuffs. One of the previous occupants had enjoyed cooking, which meant there were a lot of dried herbs and the like for some sort of soup she'd like to make. S'ric eyed the collection, shrugged, then set a pack of dried meat on the table. He was about to tell Jaks he could go through and get whatever he wanted... until Jaks yelled at him. "I wouldn't need fucking stitches if you didn't cut me!" Which was immediately followed by the elf throwing the brush. And more yelling. "What the hell is wrong with you!? You cut me and rape me and now you're.. You're... Worried about my cut? About me eating? What the hell does it matter to you if I die, huh?! You can just go get a new creepy sex-thing and bring them here and do to them exactly what you're doing to me. I hate you! Leave me alone!"

Which left S'ric standing there, staring at him. Now, of course S'ric actually listened to what Jaks had to say. Which was good. Because otherwise he might've been upset. Except it seemed all of this stemmed from Jaks –still- not understanding. All the anger diffused out of the elf, making S'ric rather amused. These bouts of aggression were very, very interesting. Stimulating, even.

S'ric approached Jaks then, running his hand along the elf's shoulder and up his neck, over a bite. The touch was almost light, what some would construe as affectionate. For S'ric, it was possessive. He'd thought he was being rather clear. Obviously not. He leaned close, brushing his lips against Jaks' jaw before lightly biting his neck. The barest of contact between his teeth and Jaks' skin, before he answered, " I don't want another. I've claimed you, and I want you healthy. Which means your wound needs stitched, and you need to eat." He drew back, looking into Jaks' green eyes. "If you have any more questions, ask now. I'm tired of this confusion."

Another unexpected reaction.

S'ric was full of these.

Jaks had taken a few more steps back, turning his head and closing his eyes, getting ready to wince away from a hand flying at his face and then... Nothing. A gentle carress up his shoulder, over the bruised and scabbed over bite wound, Jaks didn't move his head when S'ric leaned in, brushed his lips against his chin, bit him lightly. It made him shiver, and he closed his eyes slightly and shifted closer.

Didn't want another.

Claimed.

Like Jaks was some sort of puppy in a box to be picked up by random people who felt like taking one home.

S'ric wanted him healthy because Jaks belonged to him. Not because he cared. Not because it was for ransom from some nameless family he didn't know about. It was selfish. That worked for Jaks, he was an elf, he was going to live for a really long time, young still, Jaks still hadn't really felt the press of time so the little brown haired man didn't exactly feel like throwing his life on the line to get away from a posessive psycho werewolf.

"Why me?"

He surprised himself when the words left his mouth.

At least S'ric had pretty - if oddly unnerving - eyes. Hard like little clusters of ice, as cold as the tundra. As Jaks stared into S'rics eyes he grew cold and his face got pale, but he didn't take another step back. Jaks felt his hands move to his chest and he shifted away in a lame attempt to hide himself, he turned away and took a breath before he ducked down over to his clothing where he went and pulled on a pair of unripped pants.

Only had two of those ones left, Jaks would have to be careful with these ones. Why me. Jaks hadn't realised he wanted to know, but now that he'd asked it his brain went over the things. He was a pain, and he made S'ric angry, and he tried to run away, he wasn't good in bed, he couldn't really cook other than basic things... He could... Dig holes and... find stuff and draw and play the flute, but S'ric didn't know that.

Why the hell did S'ric want him?

S'ric heard the question, and he blinked in response. Wasn't that equally obvious as well? He allowed Jaks to pull away, watching his elf as he pulled on another pair of pants. It was S'ric's opinion that most humans, and elves it seemed, over thought so many things. In a way, Jaks was responsible for S'ric noticing him at all.  S'ric had planned on catching a drink, sticking around long enough anyone who wanted to talk to him could – that being potential employers – then be on his way. If Jaks had never said anything, S'ric would've ignored him. It was the snappy way he'd blamed S'ric for the lack of service... and then demanded he buy him dinner. It was that simple. After which, Jaks hadn't been strong enough to fight off S'ric's interest. And S'ric was rarely interested in anything, so when it was snagged, it was usually for good. Such as now. Faults, flaws, and imperfections is whatever he might've been interested in didn't exist. Rather, they simply became a part of what he was focused on. Traits of something that belonged to him. Jaks tattoo was a characteristic of him, as was the brown hair, unblemished body, and slender stature. If Jaks had been taller, more fleshed out, with a scar or birth mark, they would simply become parts of the whole. It wouldn't change S'ric's desire, as that had stemmed from that initial contact when Jaks, the small elf he was, had snapped at a big werewolf, and then demand he feed him.

What kept S'ric interested was the continued shift from demanding, which made his react, to the submission, which cooled him down. Jaks –responded- to everything he did, whether it was wiggle, scream, cry, or glare. In that regard, S'ric was very simple. It was the personality that defined his interest and held it. S'ric went to the cabinet that held the needle and thread, answering as he walked. "Why you? Because you were the one that stood out." He moved to kneel behind Jaks. "I had thought that was obvious. Now stand still." He didn't wait for a response, he simply threaded the needle and stuck it in the base of the cut, so he could start stitching up the wound. It wasn't too bad, and S'ric was as deft with the needle as he was with any blade. Having to care for wounds on his own over centuries had made him almost a pro at this.

The elf hadn't watched S'ric go to a cabinet and got a needle and thread.

So, the needle poking into the fresh recently soaked wound, even after the warning, made Jaks open his mouth and curse loudly. " Godsdammit, S'ric, you could... I don't know. Tell me when you're about to hurt me, Bastard." He said the last word under his breath and bitterly. Turning his head away with slight wincing from the bite on his neck moving, he thought on what S'ric said before the needle jabbed into his fresh wound.

He stood out.

"Well, fuck." Jaks said out loud, thinking back to the first time they met. He'd yelled at S'ric, demanded dinner. Jaks tipped his head back and gave a throaty groan. Stupid. Why hadn't anyone warned him? 'Hey, elfie, we have a psycho who likes picking up people who tell him off, big, white hair, blue eyes, has the personality of a snow man, watch out!.' No warning though, just silence.

Bastards. All of them.

Jaks hands were white knuckled as he clutched at the front of his pants on the thighs. This hurt. But soon enough it was over and Jaks paused before moving his hand up to touch the fresh stitches. He'd have to take them out. Eugh. Jaks kicked at a suit case before he bent down, finding a small pack in which he shoved clothes, two pairs of pants and three shirts before he put on a loose white one for himself.

Fine. S'ric wanted him to eat food, he'd eat the stupid food. If that damned werewolf did anything else freaky today though, Jaks was sure he'd throw it up. Giving a tentative stretch and plucking his white shirt off of his wet chest, he looked to the side. "I... Where's the food? I got clothes for... Whatever the hell it is we're doing." His voice was flat and his eyes were lowered, staring at the ground, not really in the mood to say more than what was needed unless it involved curses, yelling and no sex.

S'ric eyed Jaks after he'd yelled. Again. He did that a lot. "Pay more attention to what's going on," was all he had to say about Jaks being unaware. The werewolf couldn't be responsible for his inattentiveness. He waved toward the cabinets. "Help yourself." After which he actually sat at the table and pulled the file over to read more up on just what it was he was going to be doing in Essyrn. The mercenary leader was responsible for all sort of nefarious deeds that Vesd had listed in a rather formal fashion, listing them from petty crimes like looting some small farmers house, to raping some dealer's wife in Zantaric and leaving her children dead. Which explained why said Dealer was offering quite the ransom for the man's death. Thus far, according to Vesd, the Mercenary by the name of Nobem had settled in Essyrn where he was managing a small group of thieves on a section of the city. S'ric had no reason to question the information, or the source. If Vesd had made a habit of being wrong, or shoddy on the details, he would've found someone else.

"We're going to Essyrn," S'ric informed Jaks then picked up the description of Nobem. "There's a man I'm to kill." As though he were talking about the snow outside. This was normal for S'ric... though was usually was normal for him was painful or dangerous for everyone else. Then, as though he realized more needed said, S'ric's cold blue gaze settled on Jaks. He seemed to mull a thought over before setting the sheet of parchment down. "I hope you've learned you lesson when trying to run away," he began, before his tone dropped lower. "This is to be very easy. If you sway me from my hunt, or cost me it...." A growl started then. "We are going to have a problem." He usually liked to wait a little longer when it came to hunting when he had a favorite to take with him, but it'd been awhile. Besides, Jaks had to learn sometime. To add to both the threat and the reminder, S'ric said, "Even if you manage to get away for a night, a day.... I will hunt you down. And when I find you, I'll kill you rather than risk you fleeing again." S'ric could be nice, almost affectionate, given the right mood. But something that belonged to him being taken, or running away, was a way to be dead to him. What interest would be there would be crushed beneath his rage at having been not only bested, since they'd manage to escape, but denied in such an extreme way. If someone stole Jaks, of course that wouldn't be the elf's fault. But if he ran, and actually managed to get any sort of distance away so that S'ric went days without seeing him... Jaks would spend the jist of his life looking over his shoulder because S'ric would find him, eventually, and when he did, Jaks and anyone in the immediate area would see just what sort of damage a 9 foot tall, 2 thousand year old werewolf was capable of.

Jaks helped himself.

The elf closed his eyes briefly, his back stinging as water from his bath dripped down his back. He hadn't seen a towel so he drip dried, which meant his hair was getting his shirt wet and see-through and his clothing was sticking to his body. It was annoying. Jaks was picking his clothes off of his wet skin as he wandered around the cabin.  This was probably the first time he did so, oddly enough. The first few days was on egg shells, Jaks hadn't really left the furs except for the basic things, too afraid to piss S'ric off to explore.  Apparently he didn't mind though. Damn. Jaks had found food, he ate it dry, not really sure what else to do with it - like he could cook, he hired people to do that for him - pressing it between his mouth and chewing. Didn't taste too horrible, like dried meat, Jaks then proceeded to swallow.

And nearly choke.

Kill. Just like he was talking to the room.

Jaks thumped his hand against his chest, hitting a bruise and wincing. Damn this guy liked bruising, and hickeys and biting. Jaks just gave S'ric a look, his eyebrows drawing inward, slightly confused. Essyrn. He had a house in Essyrn. Damn horrible sandy place, but in any other condition the artifacts would be ruined. A dark look drew on Jaks face and he ducked his head so that S'ric didn't see it.

Of course that was smooshed to pieces when S'ric proceeded to tell him that if he made a fuss he was going to get killed. Running away, and he'd be killed.

Jaks would have to think very hard before he tried to run away again.  The elf swallowed the food, still standing a good deal away from S'ric. "Possessive Bastard." Jaks whispered before plucking his shirt off of his chest again, once he'd finished eating, he felt a little ill, but that would pass. Pressing a hand to his stomach, Jaks made a funny groaning noise before stretching and licking his lips. It took a few minutes for the wave of neusia to pass but once it did, the elf wandered over to S'ric, slowly, hesitant, he was still here.

Wouldn't kill him while he was here and safe and S'ric could see him.

The elf licked his lips and pushed his hair over his ear, it felt nice for it to be clean, soft against his fingers when he ran his fingers through it. Now... "Uh... S'ric? We're leaving tomorrow morning or...?" Tomorrow morning. That meant a night here, and Jaks knew what nights here meant. His eyebrow twitched and his lips drew into a line on his face, eugh, a whole other night.

Having felt like the message was appropriately delivered, S'ric turned his attention to the map that Vasd had included. It was a rough sketch of some city streets, Essyrn in specific, with a marker to show the areas Nobem frequented. This promised to be really easy, so long as a certain elf didn't do anything to get himself in trouble. "If you need anything other than clothes, you will need to get it before tomorrow morning." He paused to glance Jaks, listening to his question. "Uh... S'ric? We're leaving tomorrow morning or...?" He closed the folder, pushing it off to the side, while he studied Jaks. He was still a little wet, the shirt sticking to his slender body in a couple different places.

S'ric indicated Jaks should come to him with a crooked finger. "Yes, tomorrow morning." His tone was a little subdued given that he wasn't really focused on answering. Proof of his good mood continued since he added, "We're going to be traveling quickly. Minimal rest until we reach the mountains." When he didn't want to wait anymore, S'ric pulled Jaks close to him. One hand disappeared up the back of his shirt, lightly gliding up his spine. "We'll be traveling on foot as well. You know how to get to Essyrn from here?" For the moment, S'ric was content enough to just lightly touch Jaks. Only his hand on his back.

Hell no they were not.

Minimal rest? On foot? Was this guy crazy?

Jaks resisted the crooked finger for as long as he could but S'ric pulled him closer anyway and he sighed. Hand on his back. That meant his shirt would be coming off soon and his pants and then they'd go at it in the furs like a pair of bunnies. Or, like a big horny werewolf and a little elf.

"Yeah I know how to get there, I have a house in Essyrn." Oh, crap. He couldn't run now, S'ric would probably break down all the doors just to find him. Jaks resisted the urge to smack his forehead into his open palm. Smooth, Elf Boy. Jaks moved his own hand down S'rics arm to gently rub at it, brushing his fingers against the werewolves neck before he gently pulled away, not all that sure what else to do. S'ric had that file thing to look over, and Jaks...

Felt sick.

Not sick to his stomach. Heart sick. Jaks was slow as he pulled away, his hand brushing over S'rics as he slowly made his way to the fur, his steps slow and precise one in front of the other, his bare feet quiet as they went over the ground towards the bedding. He stayed clothed and layed on his stomach, his head to the side and his hair a dark brown fan around his shoulders and head, his eyes slowly closing.

Sleep was a nice thing. Jaks was sure he wasn't going to get much of it during this little trip. Travelling. Quickly. Eugh.

So not only did Jaks know where Essyrn was, but he had a –house-. S'ric was rather curious about that. He was about to ask why the elf would live in such a hot, miserable place... but he was distracted by a touch, and then Jaks' was pulling away. Because of the way it was done, S'ric not only wasn't angry that he left –since it wasn't really a dismissal- but rather watched Jaks with a content, possessive look. Maybe his elf was finally learning.  He watched Jaks lay down, a sort of solemn air about him, before S'ric stood. He shrugged out of his coat and pulled his shirt off before crawling next to Jaks. The fire would probably go out while they were sleeping, but he didn't care enough to move and fix that.

S'ric stretched out on his side, his hand lightly gripping Jaks' hip. But rather than pulling the elf to him, he actually scooted so he way laying against Jaks'. The werewolf yawned before burying his face against his elf's neck, not caring his hair happened to be in the way. Jaks smelt a lot like S'ric, given how much they'd been around one another, but that was just an overcast to his actual smell. As he was, S'ric murmured, "You'll have to show me your house." Since they'd be leaving early, he made no other effort to talk. His hand remained on Jaks' hip as his breathing deepened, eventually falling asleep as he was.

The hand on his hip got Jaks heart pounding. He knew it. He knew it, he knew it, he knew it. S'ric didn't drag him though, which made Jaks confused. He moved closer. Did S'ric take some sort of drugs? This was different. The elf was expecting violence and hurting and... There was cuddling.

Something was wrong.

Jaks opened his eyes and looked around, moving his head slightly and freezing again when S'ric yawned and moved his face closer to Jaks neck. The elf had to resist moving away, expecting a bite but...Nothing.

Show him his house.

"Um... Okay." His reply was quiet and then still nothing.

After a few more minutes of being tense and worried, he eventually relaxed and squirmed a little to get into a more comfortable position. Moving his hand over S'rics on his hip, it felt warm. S'ric was warm. It pissed Jaks off how simply comfortable it was to be next to the crazy rapist. The elf knew he shouldn't be comfortable at all, it felt wrong.

But he felt protected.

And it felt wrong.

Jaks lay there for a while, listening to S'ric breath against his neck, his features slowly crumpling as his eyes filled with tears. Licking his lips, Jaks took deep silent breathes as he silently cried, the arm under his head moved so he could turn his face into it. The elf silently cried himself to sleep, his hand still on top of S'rics and his back pressed to S'rics chest.

However, when he woke up, Jaks found that he'd rolled over in his sleep and his face was pressed against S'rics chest, his hand hanging off of the larger mans hip and a leg half thrown over.

Obviously this would be embarrassing when S'ric woke up. Jaks moved away as gently as he could, giving a careful stretch so he didn't pull on the stitches at his back and then stood up, going about collecting little things - like that damn oil - to shove into his back. If anyone asked he could say he used it for... Something. Cooking? His hair? He didn't care.

Jaks fixed his shirt, too lazy to change and went and picked up the hairbrush he'd thrown earlier, where he moved to sit in front of the almost dead fire, a few coals were still red where he brushed his hair, waiting for the werewolf to wake up from his sleep.

S'ric slept longer than he usually did. Physical prep for the journey. However, the werewolf was too light a sleeper to remain so when Jaks' warmth moved away from him. S'ric stretched out in the spot Jaks previously occupied, almost waking up. But as before, where he'd fallen asleep simply because he'd not gotten up, S'ric drifted off once more. It was the werewolf's way of procrastinating. In truth, as much as he loved hunting... and fighting... S'ric hated leaving his territory, hated leaving the cold, and hated having to adjust to new climates. He'd do it, and with little complaint -except in the heat.... he really hated the heat-. Not only that, but people outside of Hyoite didn't know what to do with him. S'ric usually ignored bigger cities, since becoming a Bounty Hunter there were some stupid enough to attack him and he didn't want to make a mess in a large public setting. This went back to him not wanting to deal with guards, because they brought more, and it was really just a cycle of killing people that, while it could be fun, tended to get in the way of other things. S'ric enjoyed killing, but he also enjoyed hunting, and sex. People after him all the time got in the way of that.

Eventually, because he really needed to get up and get moving, S'ric stretched out on the furs, yawned, and twisted on his back with a huff. Yes, he was very much procrastinating. He shifted a little more, turning the top half of his body so he could see Jaks. "Are you ready to go?" Can't delay the inevitable. But traveling generally meant running all day, sleeping little, and eating on the go. He hated being rushed.

S'ric looked so grumpy.

Jaks actually smiled a little.

Like a big grumpy puppy.

The elf's face instantly fell into a level blank look. He smiled. At S'ric. 'Cause he looked cute. Something was obviously wrong with Jaks, cuddling together all night obviously broke something in the little elf and he got up, squeezing his shoulder with his free hand as he walked to his bag to put the hairbrush in. No way was he going to get his hair into a nasty mess.

Jaks paused and turned his back to S'ric, slowly lifting his shirt to examine the hickeys and bruises fading marks, hmm, gone. Jaks let his fingers drift over his hips, to examine the bruises there, fading, little smudges of yellow and green against his skin.

Sometimes being an elf was good. Healing went faster, his hands went up his back to feel the knife wound, already seemed a few days into healing. Fingers moved up to brush at the bite wound on his neck, simple healing red marks now in the shape of a bite, in a few days the marks would be completely gone. Which was good. Jaks didn't want to remember S'ric once he got away.

If he ever did.

Getting killed.

"I'm all ready to go, yes." Jaks was quiet and he let his shirt drop down again before going to his remaining bags and pulling out a thicker jacket he slowly put on, careful incase it pissed S'ric off. Clothing, oh no. Jaks pushed his feet into his boots and striaghtened his jacket. " The sooner you get going the sooner you can get home..." Jaks was quiet when he spoke, a saying his mother said the first time he left home to go on a dig. The elf looked over his shoulder and gave a fleeting smile towards S'ric.

Not really all that sure what to think anymore.

S'ric watched Jaks look himself over. His view was cut off though, which was a little disappointing. And he wasn't too excited when Jaks told him he was ready. And if his elf was ready to go, then that definitely meant that he should be. With a near silent grunt of dismay, S'ric sat up, slid to the egde of the furr, then stood. He was caught off guard a little by what Jaks said next. " The sooner you get going the sooner you can get home..." He mulled that thought over, taking note of the smile, before nodding. "I hate the heat," he admitted before sighing, the tension oozing out of him. S'ric went to the cabinet, pulled two daggers out that he used and handed them to Jaks. "Tuck those in your bag." He couldn't keep them with him when he shifted since his clothes shifted with him... and nothing else. "We're going to keep going  until tomorrow morning." S'ric ran a hand through his hair. "I'll carry you for most of it. I don't want to walk."

With that, S'ric made his way to the fireplace, scattering the coals with his hand so it'd go out faster. Then, because he couldn't put it off anymore, S'ric shifted in place. He would be stronger, faster, and with more stamina in this form. Easier to carry with Jaks and his supplied. After shaking himself, S'ric looked at Jaks, tilting his head. Time to go. He passed Jaks and pushed open the door, taking a moment to let the cold pass over him. As though saying goodbye to the cold. Even thought they'd be traveling through it for the jist of the day and tomorrow. With a soft growl, he turned, scooped up Jaks and his small pack, before stepping out into the cold and starting their trek.

When S'ric had places to go, he usually wasted little time getting there. Which meant that he slept little, spent most of the time either running or walking at a very brisk pace, and didn't eat. Which never meant a good thing for the werewolf. It did meant that by the end of the first week, they'd not only got out of the tundra, but crossed the Kilanthro mountains. S'ric also spent the vast majority of that time shifted. The night of the fullmoon, they traveled the whole time. Straight through, so he'd collapsed that next morning. This meant that Jaks had a lot of time to himself, and little to no conversation. S'ric was either too tired after running, too focused on crossing through snow, or climbing the mountains.

He'd planned on keeping this rigorous pace until they reached the Sirantil Valley. There, he'd be able to relax and actually hunt.