Chapter Text
Poppy had always been obvious with her crush on Branch.
The first instance where it really clicked in that it was something serious was the night of the Harvest Moon, when he was about to enter his 18th winter. By the shadowed light of the large bonfire in the middle of the field, she had run up to him, teeth biting back a large grin and red faced from exuberance of the festivities and thrill of approaching a crush.
Her tail wagged behind her in anticipation as she waited for him to notice and acknowledge her. At that moment, it had annoyed Branch to an extent. Not wanting to give her the satisfaction of his immediate attention, he finished putting the last three stakes flanked with meat, preparation for the midnight feast, before slowly turning to the younger troll with bloodied arms and a blank stare.
At that age he had gotten enough experience with other younger female trolls, most of whom had not reached their 16th summer yet, and their fluttering antics around male trolls of similar ages, to decide he wanted absolutely nothing to do with them.
They had no self control, no decorum for protocols and tradition, and sought pleasure in favor of their duties, taking nothing seriously like his brothers had taught him to. They were all lacking maturity, with Poppy the worst of all of them.
Completely silly in the head, he had thought, with all of his own steadfast heart. He crossed his arms and stared at her wiggling frame.
There Poppy had stood, hands behind her back, rocking on her heels and tail giving away her excitement as she lit up, eyes meeting his for the first time since approaching.
“What?” He snapped. He didn’t want to waste any more time in front of the princess, he had stuff to do. Important things. Tasks and chores and lists to be checked off. His brothers were depending on him. That’s what they said. He was turning into a strong, older male troll and had to act the part.
Poppy was not. She was small, defenseless, and silly. Even if she was the princess. Even if she was at the same meetings he went to with his brothers and the rest of the high council.
It was a great honor to be invited to sit with his brothers at the high council back then. Finally! After all these years of staying home twice a week while they spoke about important happenings in the village, he could participate as someone of notice, right before his 13th winter. He could do something for the village. He could matter.
But that shiny pedestal he attempted to climb up in his head tilted over and crashed into a million pieces the moment he heard a small, “Psst.” Under the table, along with the tug tug tug of his shorts.
He could barely keep his mouth closed in shock when he glanced down, making direct eye contact with magenta eyes and a toothy smile in the shadows of the large council chamber table. He quickly looked back up and around, as the elder at the front droned on and on about supplies and beast migration patterns for the winter. The leader of the village, King Peppy, sat upright and focused at the head of the table as he listened, and Branch’s eyes trailed from him, to the empty seat right beside him.
A small giggle left Poppy’s mouth in front of him, and he wanted to stand up and scream in frustration.
An identical giggle repeated in the air between them that night. Poppy didn’t bother answering verbally as she looked at him from his feet to the tip of his hair, before taking two steps in quick succession too close to his liking.
He didn’t flinch or back off, he wasn’t scared. Plus, he didn’t want to knock his hard work over and into the ground. If anything, Poppy should be concerned with the amount of beast blood that covered his entire torso from butchering all day with Bruce. She was wearing brand new, sun bleached cotton threads to celebrate the harvest, and he knew how much female trolls liked their clothing. His patchwork, burlap shorts were to show how rugged and uncaring of frivolity he was.
Branch was a serious troll, and always wanted to be seen as such.
Instead, the princess got even closer, so close he could smell her surgery scent and the baby’s breath twigs in her hair, wafting around him and making him dizzy. His entire body tensed as her eyes continued to dance around him, grazing him, slowly, from his hair, to his nose, his ears and his neck. He could see the tufts of her chest rise and fall, and he realized that she was just as mesmerized as he was.
She brought forward a paw, and with a single digit up his torso, dragged from his sternum all the way to his neck, ruffling his chest in a line. She wiped directly through the wet fur of the leftover butchered beast blood, leaving the front of him tingling from her touch, and her digit damp with red.
Then, without breaking eye contact, she sucked her finger clean.
Not bothering to wonder what she would do next, Branch ran.
Whatever that was, he wanted to forget it, and pretend it never happened.
Bruce looked like he had wanted to ask why he was so frazzled when he returned to the food prep area, but instead he just took one look at Branch’s blushing face and carefully placed hands, and pointed to the leftover scraps in the corner for him to clean up for the next couple of hours, privately in the corner where no one would interrupt him.
-
Branch didn’t like to share. Which was a funny trait to have when you’re one of the designated hunters of the village, providing and protecting. Especially in the unforgiving winter months, when supplies were few and far between, rationed to make it until the snow melts.
There was a group of them that patrolled for a week at a time, hunting and killing as much as they could to bring home to the village to survive. John Dory was the first in command, being by far the most experienced with navigation and the surrounding areas. At this moment they were stalking a herd of puffalos, taking note and strategizing which ones to target in order to maximize the amount of bounty they could take back without impacting the numbers for breeding.
The take down was always quick and efficient, and they descended swiftly once Branch had effectively taken down the meatiest beast, scaring off the rest to give space for them to make quick work of skinning and preparing their kill.
Branch lowered the beast's head to check to see if it had properly been taken down. He frowned as the eyes of the puffalo followed him, and he unsheathed his spear once more, but a firm voice stopped his arms as they raised to strike.
“Let Creek handle the rest, Branch.” His eyes turned to pierce his brother, who nudged one of the newer members of the pack forward, “You’ve done your part. Let him send the soul.”
The guy was a few winters less of Branch. Maybe entering his 19th. He was a prophet's son, one of those peacekeeping trolls who sat at the altars and conducted burials and births. In the past couple of winters, the elders had decided that one of the peacetrolls would always be sent on the hunt with them to say the words that sent the souls of the kills to the Muses. It was an effort to appease them, when the past couple of winters, many had failed to survive all the way through. Thankfully not due to starvation, but instead from… mishaps. A fallen troll through the ice of the pond. A dreary walk leading nowhere during a snowstorm. Fateful encounters with other wilderbeasts much bigger than them.
The elders decided that all these mishaps were most likely caused from the anger of the Muses, who thought the trolls took for granted what they gave.
Creek was the first to be offered up, the youngest of the peacetrolls by far and able to keep up with the group of hunters.
Right now he seemed much worse for wear, the purple of his fur tinged white from the cold, and purple eyes shaking as he watched the shallow breathing of the puffalo bleeding out on the snow.
Branch growled lowly, but John Dory was unmoving as he stared down his youngest brother.
Finally, after a moment of held eyes, Branch lowered his spear, and stepped back.
Creek didn’t move a muscle at this, and Branch snapped his teeth at him to hurry up.
“It’s not like he’s gonna live at this point.” He hissed.
Creek fell to his knees in front of the beast, closing his eyes and seemingly taking a moment to calm down. He touched his nose, dragging it down to his chin, a sign for the Muses attention, before whispering the words into the puffalo’s ear. His purple paw shakily reached out to touch the tip of the beast’s nose, imitating the sign, before drawing back and taking out a sharp blade.
It was a beautiful thing, hand crafted by one of the believers in the village specifically for this inaugural hunt. Branch knew that because there had been a huge ceremony to send them off this time. One that wasted time and resources, he thought.
The peacetroll lined up the blade to the beast’s throat, and immediately Branch knew what was going to happen. His hand placement and angle was entirely wrong. No one had taught this troll how to slit the throat of a living thing before to ensure a swift and easy death for the creature.
He pressed in funny, spurting blood and making the beast buck and bleat. The blood hit the whole front of his cloak, and Creek’s face was sprayed as he jolted back from the surprise bloody shower, screaming.
Branch growled and yanked him back by his hood, jumping over him and spearing the puffalo expertly, right through the head.
The beast went still, head falling to the ground, the soul leaving the carcass. The bleeding teetered down to a drizzle, pooling around its body, the heat of it melting through the snow in a puddle.
The only thing that could be heard was the shuffling of feet coming to pick up the peacetroll from the ground, and said peacetrolls heavy breathing.
Branch sullenly looked down at the beast, into the black, empty eyes. The soul gone as fast as they allowed it.
-
The end of the winter came faster than Branch realized. He had spent the most of it in his own burrow, carving out its walls and setting up what would be home to him for the rest of his life. There wasn’t much gathering he could do in the winter, besides firewood and the furs he was able to secure from the hunts, so he had spent the majority of it carving shelves, and mapping out the main and secondary room along the roots of the tree he was under.
The banging at the front of his borrow sent shivers of annoyance through his fur, and he felt the indents of his scowl fit into place as he stalked towards the entrance. Absently he thought about making an alternate entrance that was harder to find as he built next winter.
“What?”
The familiar drone of his brother drifted through the entryway, and he rolled his eyes, reaching up to open the hatch.
“There you are. I was afraid you would have buried yourself alive in here by accident.”
Clay plopped down into the hole, followed by a much softer landing from Floyd.
Branch opted to not respond, waving them into the main area before securing the hatch again. Behind him, Clay whistled.
“Wow Branch, you really know how to put in the work. Are you sure you don’t want to join us at the base? We could really use someone with a knowledge of making burrows like this– this is more than knowledge. It’s talent.”
Branch shrugged his shoulders. “I feel like I’m better at protecting.”
“Don’t sell yourself short man. You’re good at many things.” Floyds warm hand on his shoulder did nothing to calm the irritation growing at their presence, “We also just want to see you around more. It’s been, what? A week since we last saw your grumpy face?”
Branch shrugged off his hand, “Been busy. As you can see.” He walked over to his makeshift eating area, which was just a small firepit with a couple pots hanging on the wall. He took the melted snow he got from earlier and placed it on the fire, turning and opening the small hatch in the ceiling that led it to the outside. He reached over to the small pile of dishes and brought out some cups and herbs to start making tea.
Floyd smiled at this and walked over to sit with him, knowing that was the closest they’d get to an invite to join him. Clay on the other hand, walked with his eyes on the ceiling as he made his way throughout the freshly built burrow.
“Is this where you’ll be sleeping?” He called from the one other room.
“Yeah. Get out of there, I’m not finished securing the walls yet.”
“Alright alright. It’s still impressive. You left JD’s, what? A month ago? Last I checked this place was barely a fresh hole in the side of the tree.”
There were bubbles coming to the top of the water, but it wasn’t boiling yet. Branch pushed some burning embers closer to the pot.
There was a soft knock at the hatch. The brothers looked at one another, before hearing it again. Branch got up, and went to the front to answer it, face screwing up as he recognized the sound.
Poppy had been trying to find Branch’s burrow for ages. He had been steadily avoiding her since she had begun being more and more of a nuisance. Peppy had started giving her preliminary duties to becoming the new leader. Menial jobs, mostly having to do with the morale of the village than anything of substance.
She had never really given up on her pursuit of Branch– only finding more subtle ways of interaction, with her newfound duties being the perfect excuse to seek him out for any reason she deemed fit.
He opened the hatch mid knock for Poppy, he paw hanging in the air along with her jaw in shock. Her face broke into her regular giddy expression as she took him in, hope radiating from her eyes as she realized she had found her target.
“Branch! I finally found you!” She cheered, spinning on the spot in victory.
His jaw tensed, hating the fact he had unwillingly lost a one sided game of hide and seek with the princess, “You sure did. What do you want?”
Poppy’s curiosity was overflowing, and she leaned over to peep past his shoulder to see into the burrow. He tried to move to block her view, but the presence of both his brothers prevented that as they came over to greet the pink troll.
“Poppy! It’s so nice to see you.”
“Enjoying a stroll in the woods today?”
Branch’s grip on the hatch tightened, and he contemplated shoving his brothers out the door and locking them out to continue this conversation.
Poppy’s tail flicked behind her, nodding enthusiastically, “I saw your trail and wondered what you folks were doing all the way out here– luckily for me, you guys were visiting the very troll I’ve been trying to track down for weeks now!”
“Yeah, he’s a slippery guy.” Clay threw an arm around his brother, ruffling his hair, “We hadn’t seen him for a week, but he’s been out here the whole time.”
“Yeah, you should see all the hard work he’s been doing– on top of all the hunting he did this winter, he’s basically got a whole burrow ready for himself as well!”
Branch glared at Floyd, who only gave him a sickeningly sweet smile in encouragement. Poppy bounced on her feet in excitement.
“Ooh! That’s so great Branch! I know your place will be amazing, you’ve always done such a wonderful job at building things around the village, I’m sure your own burrow will be top tier.”
Branch couldn’t help the warmth that spread from his neck to his ears at the compliment. She always knew when and how to lay it on thick. It irritated him that she was so easy with her words and manners. He figured she had to be, so she would be respected and liked as a future leader.
The princess was always surrounded by her friends, a group from all sectors of the colony, and every single troll in the village had a sugary sweet opinion of her. She was generous with her compliments, kindness, love and affection.
Almost too much, to a certain degree. He eyed the way she easily held Clay’s hand and gushed to him over whatever new event was taking place in a few days that she had come to personally invite Branch to.
“Especially since so many of our peers have presented, even you Branch!” He turned back at the mention of his name, looking back into her bright magenta eyes, “I know you presented late spring of last year, and we didn't celebrate properly because of all the rain. So I made sure to include you on the list of Alpha’s to be honored at this year’s uncovering ceremony!”
The uncovering ceremony was another one of the elders new projects. A new ceremony to appease the Muses again. This time to encourage more variety in genders being presented in the village. For the past several years, there had been an unusual number of betas being presented throughout the youth. Branch had anticipated being a beta, much like his brothers Floyd and Clay, but instead got the same gender as his oldest brother. In retrospect, he should have seen it coming. He looked the most like John Dory out of all of them.
Poppy’s keen interest in this uncovering ceremony was different, however, because he was going to be there as part of the festivities. It was blatantly obvious. He frowned.
Branch found the whole hubbub around his presentation to be extremely inappropriate. It was a very embarrassing thing to wake up in his family burrow rock hard and easily irritable, to the point of snapping at JD at any mention of his crankiness.
They had nearly gotten into a huge physical altercation before Floyd managed to separate them, getting them to think clearly. Once they were in separate rooms did they both realize the clashing of hormones was what was causing the fight to begin with.
Branch had made the initial efforts to create his bunker soon after that.
Though he wasn’t ashamed of his gender. In fact, he was very pleased with his presentation. Being an alpha meant the responsibilities he would eventually take on would matter more in the grand scheme of things. He craved that. Some sort of control.
He exhaled, watching his brothers entertain the princess on the threshold of his burrow without his input or consent.
“Okay, I’m going to get back to work.” He declared, taking a step back into his bunker, “You guys can do whatever you want, but I need to close this door.”
“Wait!” Poppy cried out. Branch’s ears folded back at the sudden shout, and he winced, but watched as she pulled her basket in front of her, digging around before presenting a card to him with a smile, “This is your official invite, with all you need to know. I hope you’ll come, it’ll be so special to celebrate with you and your family and the rest of the village.”
With disdain he looked at the bright card that was placed in his hand, and didn’t pay any attention to the way his two brothers took subtle steps away from the two to give them more privacy. “Thanks, but I don’t do parties.”
“It’s not a big party, I promise.” Poppy said with brightness. He looked up from under his brow, watching the way she bashfully tucked her hair behind an ear, “The elders really wanted me to make this special, and I’ll admit, I really have been trying to make it special this year because you’re supposed to be there.”
He blanched. That was the most forward thing Poppy had ever said to him. And she said it in front of the more annoying half of his family. Floyd and Clay started nudging each other excitedly out of the corner of Branch’s eye, and his heart started beating fast. Looking at the two of them briefly, his hands started to shake as he sputtered.
“Poppy, I don’t—“
“Just think about it, okay?” She gave him another toothy smile, paws clasping in front of her chest. “It would mean so much to me. And the elders.”
Embarrassment showered over his head like a bucket of cold water.
For her.
And the elders.
His gaze hardened as he looked at the card in his hand, then slowly up at his brothers in the background. They were still clinging onto each other, but their faces dropped at the sight of his sudden change in demeanor, confusion replacing elation.
For the past several years, the elders have been pushing for changes to be taking place in many aspects of their life. Part of the reason they had so much control over the village was because of Peppy’s lack of courage when it came to making decisions on leadership. And Poppy was no different.
Branch had been on the elders radar for the past couple of years now. With so much hard work and dedication to hunting for the village, he had become one of the pillars of the village in terms of protection and provision. Beasts of all sizes came down to shield the trolls from any threat, whether it be starvation or predator, by Branch’s hand.
Not Poppy’s.
He watched her smile start to falter as he saw right through her plans to manipulate the situation to her political benefit, to get him to side with her on this frivolous event to show his support of her to the real decision makers of the village.
Her attempts to gather his face and reputation to be another tool on her belt shriveled up before her very eyes as he crumpled the card right there on his doorstep, and threw it on the ground.
Hurt shone in her eyes immediately, and her mouth parted in shock as she watched the colourful invitation drop into the mud, and bounce slightly into the doorway. The soft gasps from his brothers did nothing to tame the anger that threatened to explode and harm, right there in front of his burrow.
“No thanks. I don’t want to play your stupid little game. Go find someone else to use.”
The sound of the hatch slamming in her face reverberated through the burrow, and Branch hurried away from the entrance as far as he could.
He crouched down in his half dug bedroom, tears threatening to spill over from embarrassment and anger.
He could hear the muffled voices of his apologetic brothers, coddling the princess as they led her away.
He could hear them enough where he decided right then and there he needed to make a new entrance that was harder and further to get to.
-
More blood on his fur, and in the late summer heat, it wasn’t pleasant. Bruce had dismissed him for the afternoon, claiming the weather to be too warm to work with sticky, smelly blood.
Branch thanked the Muses at this, and hurriedly left the butchering area to run to the nearest pond to swim. His tail twitched in anticipation as he scurried over to the cool, reflective waters at the bottom of the hill, eager to get the layer of grime and sweat off his fur.
He reached the edge of the pond, quickly stripping off his clothes to sink into the pond, submerging himself completely and rubbing his body so the fur would get soaked thoroughly. The pond was partially shaded, and he crawled around under the water around a few plants, twisting and turning around the water, swatting at small fish that dared to approach him, before coming back up for air a bit further downstream.
He exhaled slowly, taking in the filtered sunlight through the tree branches above, allowing his body to float as he relaxed every muscle in his body.
After a moment of stillness, he realized that there were voices above the water. He turned so his body was under the water, and his ears and nose above, twitching to find the source. It was quiet for a moment, and his feet found the bottom, standing up slightly to turn ever so slowly.
A soft, melodic voice drifted across the pond. It came from around a patch of water plants sticking up and tall out of the water. Branch couldn’t make out the words, but the tune of it was easily recognizable as one of the prophetic chants that was sung often by the peacetrolls. At this realization, Branch pinpointed exactly whose voice it was.
Curiosity got the best of him. At this time, Creek should have been with the rest of the peacetrolls getting ready for their evening prayers. As he waded softly around the water plants, he reckoned that maybe he was taking a moment to do some solo practice before–
Another soft, high pitch giggle interrupted the singing, followed by Creek’s throaty laughter. Branch paused for a moment, confused. He couldn’t remember there being a female prophet that was part of the chants. He dug his feet into the bottom of the pond and propelled himself to float forward, still wary of making noise. He felt like he was spying, but he shouldn’t be, considering–
Another soft, high pitched giggle, which quickly choked off to a moan followed by a pant. It took Branch a second too long to process what that meant before he was able to stop himself from floating around the last plant in his way, before realizing in horror what he was about to bear witness to.
Poppy’s moans carried easily across the short distance across the pond. Her back was up against one of the water plants, bending it backward a little as she pressed against it. Her torso was above the water, panting in exertion as Creek buried his face into her neck, one arm holding up her leg from her knee and the other hand moving quickly in the water between her legs. Her hand was grabbing onto his hair to steady herself as the other hand moved with his.
For a long moment that felt like an entire hour, Branch stood there, half behind the plant as he watched Creek pleasure Poppy. His face dragged across her soft chest as he nuzzled the hollow of her neck, making his own noises of pleasure too as Poppy tugged on his hair and jerked from his antics beneath the water.
Branch’s eyes felt glued to the scene, and his mouth felt dry as he watched the way her neck swallowed her breaths and her teeth came out to bite her bottom lip. Her hair wrapped slowly around the stalk behind her, and she let out this whimper that went straight to his cock. When Branch felt that surge of pleasure, he slowly became lucid again, and began to panic, wondering why he was still watching the two of them during an obviously very private moment. He began to back away when Poppy made specific noise, something between a growl and a grunt, and her mouth fell open, breathing heavy as she approached her climax.
When she opened her eyes, hazed by pleasure and bliss as she seemed to lose lucidity as she slowly took in the atmosphere around her. Scanning. Looking over the water.
Looking straight at Branch.
He couldn’t move. He watched as her stomach tensed, her face screwed up and pressed against the side of Creeks head, eyes not leaving Branch’s. The intensity at which she focused on him pinning him to his spot only seemed to put her over the edge, making this godly sound as she finished. Her entire body shook and jerked in pleasure as she came down from whatever high she was experiencing in that moment with Branch.
Branch’s soul snapped back into his body. Slowly and quietly, he sank back under the water, swimming close to the floor of the pond all the way back to the shoreline, before getting out silently, grabbing his pants, and running straight home.
-
Winter passed, and Branch put all his focus into expanding and finishing his burrow anytime he was back home from the hunt.
He didn’t speak to Creek on those hunts. He barely looked at him the entire time they were out. Luckily for him, and perhaps the rest of the pack, Creek never brought up his conquest with Poppy, even around campfires where stories of ruts and heats were often spoken of in detail. He kept quiet, laughing and cheering when necessary, but ultimately never saying much unless to speak to what peacetrolls were up to.
It wasn’t Branch’s business what Creek did behind… Well not behind closed doors. More like out in the open, where anyone could see them. But Branch didn’t care. Peacetrolls had pups and trollings like any other troll, so it wasn’t unheard of for any one of them to have relations with any one of the villagers.
What bothered him was that it was with the princess, who was supposed to uphold her reputation. Who supposedly held a candle for Branch for the past ten years. Who looked him dead in the eye as another troll pleasured her to completion.
He kicked the side of this particularly stubborn rock harder than he should have and it toppled out of place, rolling to the center of the room.
This room was eventually going to be a study. He had started the preliminary sketches for the shelves that would hold all the books and scrolls he could carry from the village. He even started collecting some hefty pieces of bark that would be whittled down to become his desk.
Even though he hadn’t seen Poppy all winter, mostly due to his active avoidance, he couldn’t stop circling back to that encounter. More than once had he woken up to a wet dream about her, whether it was a recreation of that fateful moment, or him in Creek’s place, or some brand new scenario his mind conjured up, it always involved her and him.
And he despised it. For a little while, when he had spent too much time alone, he had wondered if she had planned the entire thing. She knew of the hot day, and planned the outing with Creek because she knew Branch loved to go for a swim after a long day with Bruce. That it would be hot enough for him to be released early. That Creek would do that to her. That she knew Branch would float around the patch of water plants to align perfectly with where they ended up, giving him a full view of the show she so expertly put on.
I wonder if she’s still unpresented.
He smacked his forehead in chastisement and shook the thought out. He wasn’t supposed to think that. Not only because she was the princess, but also because he was a serious troll with serious responsibilities.
He was debating on what to numb his mind with, menial tasks or moonwater, when the telltale loud knocking of his eldest brother rang through the burrow.
Growling a bit, he rolled his head in annoyance while being secretly grateful for the distraction.
He followed the long hallway to his new entrance, barely making it to the end before the hatch swung open, and John Dory dropped in with ease.
“Jesus Branch, have you been marinating in here? Smells like a ruthouse.”
Branch rolled his eyes, and JD gave a bellowing laugh as he ruffled his hair.
“I’m joking! I’m joking.”
“Ha ha. So funny.” Branch muttered, turning back around to go back down the long hallway, sniffing the air quietly to see if JD was actually being serious or not. He couldn’ tell, which furthered his cranky mood.
John Dory bumbled in, looking around in awe, “Bitty! It’s changed so much since I’ve last visited! Has it been that long, or have you been working overtime to make this ruthouse into a ruthome?”
“Muses, JD, don’t call it that.” He whined, rolling his eyes and settling down at his table, resting his head in his crossed arms, “I’ve been working at it. I just added a third room. It’s gonna be my study.”
JD hummed his approval, peeking into the new room down the new hallway, “We’re gonna have to start lugging in your personal library you left at home! Or, my home now, I guess, since I’m the only one living there.”
There was a sad lilt to his voice at the end of his sentence, and Branch shifted uncomfortably. He tried to soothe by inwardly reminding himself that two alphas under one roof was a recipe for destruction, but he still felt a twinge of regret as JD’s eyes trailed the perimeter of his new home.
But, in typical JD fashion, he perked up, and smiled at him, “Bitty, I’m so proud of you. You built all of this so expertly on your own– I wish you would have let us help you, but I get it. I like control too.”
Branch sat up, “Yeah, I just wanted things to be… Just the way I wanted.”
“You’re so good at this stuff.” JD pulled out the opposite chair, and sat down, smiling still, “You know people have taken notice.”
Branch’s face twisted in confusion.
JD looked excited, “Branch, the councils been asking about you. They’ve been really impressed with your progress and innovations with all those traps you set up around the village. They even went as far to say something about the Muses having sent you as an answer to the things happening around here!”
Branch wasn’t sure about that. He sat back, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion, “You mean the snares? Those are childs play, I found it in a really old book somewhere deep in the library. They’re pretty easy to set up–”
“But that's the thing, Branch. Even if you don’t think you’re–” He waved his hand vaguely up, “Muses sent, the council is now talking about making some sort of position for you, to put you in charge of protection for the village.”
Heart doing a flip, Branch couldn’t help the surge of happiness that hit him. After years of hard work, were his efforts to be noticed by a higher level of authority paying off? His eyes widened and he couldn’t help the way his tail started moving in excitement, “Really? Are you sure, JD?”
His brother nodded excitedly, “Yes! They were talking to me about it this morning. They said that you’re halfway there.”
Branch’s mood plummeted, diving nose first into the cold, hard ground and flattening like a bird.
“Halfway?”
Picking up on his mood change, JD’s face turned sheepish, and his tone apologetic, “Yes, well, you still have some… Life experience they need you to have before giving you any more responsibilities.”
Branch looked at JD incredulously, and then shook his head in confusion, wanting him to continue. JD sighed.
“Branch, you’re… Unmated. You haven’t had children yet.” JD looked pitiful, a slight frown on his face, “They need to know if you’re ready to handle all of that before they just hand over a title.”
“But you’re unmated. With no children.”
JD looked like he smacked him in the face. Stunned, he furrowed his brow and said, “My situation is different, Branch–”
“How different?” Branch felt his heart start to speed up, anger shooting through his veins, “You’re a fully grown adult alpha who still lives in his grandmother's burrow. You can barely hold down any omega long enough to get them through their heat, and I’m supposed to believe that the council wants me mated with children to have half as much responsibility as you?”
JD stared at him hollowly, his mouth open in shock as he processed his words. Instead of attacking Branch, which Branch almost wanted to happen at that moment, JD’s jaw clenched and he spoke low, but harsh as he stared his brother down.
“When our parents died, I raised you, Clay, Floyd and Bruce all by myself for years until grandma finally stepped in. I basically had 4 children already by the age of 16. I didn’t have time to mate. I didn’t get a choice to mate– I was too busy changing your diapers before all the omegas my age were coupled off. And when grandma died–” He spat, and Branch flinched, the blood draining from his face at the reminder, “I was all alone, doing exactly what you’re doing now, only with four younger brothers glued to my side the entire time, who needed to be cared for.”
Branch knew this. He knew all of it. The reminder cut open his insides, with John Dory shoving a hand inside to twist his guts until it hurt.
“What the council asks for is more than just tasks. It asks for a reliable character who can provide more than just a flank of meat on a table. They need to know if you can handle trolls. Real lives. Not just the ones you take from creatures out in the wilderness. They need to know that you're an alpha who won’t burrow yourself away and lash out when uncomfortable feelings get brought up.”
Branch broke his eye contact with JD, and stared at the table in front of him.
John Dory didn’t say much else.
He made his point.
-
Spring came and the grass was soft again. The trees had leaves again.
At that point all of Branch’s things were completely out of JD’s burrow. He had left that day in the winter irritated, but having said his peace, didn't hold onto it for long. Branch came back to hunt with him, and they settled easily back into their routine.
Currently Branch was walking the perimeter of the village, checking his snares and traps. The last of them we still intact and untouched, so he started his long walk back around to his burrow.
His walking twig was digging into the soft ground, the fresh moss spongey under his feet when he heard rustling off to his left. Frozen, his angled his ear towards the noise.
He placed his twin on the ground, and sunk low to the ground, getting on all fours to approach the area. The sound didn’t seem to be coming from a large creature, but if he was going to have to attack, he needed to sneak up on it to ensure it didn’t make an escape.
Dipping under weeds and leaves to get to the source, he froze when he got close enough to smell what it was.
Sweet.
Sickeningly sweet.
Enough to make his mouth water.
The rustling didn’t stop, and he knew if he was going to continue forward, he might very well be encountering a similar scene that he saw the summer before.
Or not. There were no noises aside from the movement against the ground. No moans, no panting, no laughter.
But he knew it was her.
He knew because he never forgot the sweet smell she gave when she dragged her paw through his bloodied chest.
He should have known then.
Still on all fours, he approached, letting the large leaves and blade of grass wipe over his body as he emerged from the bush, searching for her.
She made it so easy to find her.
Curled up at the bottom of a large tree, in the shadows of more brush, the wet moss had rubbed off on her blue dress. She arched her back, writhing so beautifully as she faced away from him. The closer he got, he started to hear more and more of the breathy noises she made as she worked herself up. Or down. He couldn’t tell.
He knew he couldn’t just spring up on her, and scare her away. She was alone. There was no one else around.
She had wandered into the woods towards his burrow and collapsed as she presented as an omega.
The idea that she had started to go into heat and immediately started towards the direction of his home did something to him, and a stones throw away, he let out a growl.
She immediately responded, gasping and jerking, scrambling up and slamming her back against the root of the tree. Her hair was disheveled, and her face, neck, and chest glistening with sweat. She pressed her legs together as she looked at him, her eyes widening and cowering away. The heavy scent of arousal sliced with a sudden scent of fear as he got closer. He stopped in his tracks.
Her shocked look turned sour as she bent over, whimpering in pain. His heart dropped and he approached quickly, his senses crying to get closer to her, but she shoved herself away.
His insides stung with rejection.
Did she not do this on purpose? Why was she scrambling away from him?
Finding his words through the heady scent that surrounded him, he managed to croak out, “Poppy.”
That seemed to calm her down, and she lifted her head to look at him, recognition flitting across her features, “Branch–” Another wave of arousal hit her, and in return, him. She pressed her face into the moss again, her legs twisting against one another to try and find some relief.
But he knew that wouldn’t be enough.
“What do you want– what do you need me to do? Do you need me to help?”
He was close enough now to reach out and touch her. Carefully, he brushed part of her hair back. Her face felt like it was on fire, and she let out a moan of relief as his paw ran through part of her scalp.
He desperately wanted to ease her pain. Watching her sit there in agony was painful for him. His body had begun to ache for hers, but he stayed an arms length away as she tried to fight through the heat to address him.
What if she didn’t want this?
Him?
But at his retreating touch, she whimpered again, chasing it with her face. She rolled over on her back, and the cloying scent of heat hit him full force, lowering him to his hands and knees again. He took in the way the light material of her dress clung to her skin, the heaving of her chest so similar to that day. The bottom of it was starting to hike up to her stomach, and her bottom half was on full display.
In the back of his mind, once again, he had to wonder if she had planned this.
He moved towards her legs, and ever so gently, pressed her raised knee aside.
She fell open, and he let out a loud moan. She was dripping with slick, and her pheromones were overwhelming. He laid head against her inner thigh on the ground, and sat there for a moment breathing and trying to focus on what was happening.
He knew what their instincts wanted them to do.
He had no control over this.
But the last of his lucid thoughts scrambled for an explanation. He had to help her. She was in pain. Now he was in pain. They were meant to do this.
Poppy let out a sob after a moment, and he was so quick to come up and kiss her mouth, eating the noise and running his hand up her body, dress coming up with it.
She clung to him, her mouth falling open as she panted. Grabbing his hand on her chest, she squeezed it and barely whispered one word.
“ Please. ”
It was so easy.
It was so easy to pull back, and hook his thumbs around his pants, shoving them down to pull himself out.
It was so easy to get on top of her, position and line himself up between her legs.
It was so easy to slide into her, her cunt greedily taking him in as he let a growl leave his chest.
The heat was almost too much, and the tightness was only something he could have dreamt up in his subconscious. She was making similar noises to that day in the pond, only louder and more desperate as she spread her legs further apart, letting him settle in and get as close as he needed to for him to bottom out.
Her insides tightened and shuddered around his cock, and when he was deep enough, she let out a high pitched whine. He dragged his head up from her neck to press their nose and lips together, and he watched as her gaze went distant, her irises widening, nearly taking up her entire eye.
He had her.
Or maybe she had him.
He couldn’t tell.
Either way, the aggression of mating started making a headway into his body. He started pulling out, and pushing back in. Slowly for the first few times, but his control slackened and he let his head lower next to hers, scooping a leg up to anchor himself as he started snapping his hips relentlessly against her.
Her arms came around his torso, and annoyed immediately, he sat back for the split second it took for him to take his vest off, throwing it off to the side before continuing his jackrabbit pace. Her hands clawed at his back, making small breathless grunts with every thrust.
This part didn’t last as long as he would have liked. His orgasm built up too quickly for his liking, and her head fell back, exposing her neck like the good little omega she was.
He stared at the expanse of her neck, mouth watering, his canines sharpening in his mouth.
This part he could control.
If he wanted to.
This part he could prevent.
But he didn’t.
The feeling of her clench around him, and the tensing of her stomach against as she met her climax drove him over the edge. He shoved himself for the final time, as deep as he could go, and with a snarl, let his teeth clamp over her neck and shoulder.
She let out this terrible cry, and he came so hard he saw stars.
The taste of her blood was sweet.