Aelin Erevos
Queen of Nothing
Appearance | Lol
Location | Islimore, Lupo Encampment
Tag | Karim
The air was thick with the scent of roasting meats and hints of lychanberries, the feast of Aerðs well underway and her steadfast companions no where to be seen - likely off enjoying the festivities in their own way, leaving Aelin to her own devices.
Distraction came in the way of one wolf whom she'd simply known as Karim , a man she'd been eager to meet after he'd tipped her off on how to find Miera, who likewise regaled Aelin with tales of him. Whether he'd known it or not, his involvement in helping her locate Miera had been the catalyst leading to this very night that had summoned the beginnings of what would be the Lupo's return to Islimore.
Sharing a drink seemed the least she could do.
Together, the two strolled the perimeter of the encampment, led along by the radiant beams of Islimorian moonlight and the sound of drums and horns, drinking and laughing well into the evening and long after many of the others had retired to their own tents.
It was difficult to recall what happened after the fifth or sixth drink, only knowing that sleep had taken her hard and swift.
In the morning that followed, sunlight streamed through the moon-roof of the silk tent and fell across her face, sounds of birdsong welcoming her to awaken. The she-wolf stirred only slightly, backing herself into a large and warm shape that curled around her. Whatever the thing was outsized her by at least two times, yet allowed her curved hips to align perfectly within the L-shaped bend, the rest of her small frame fitting just as snugly. An appendage of the unknown thing moved closer, ensnaring her narrow waist and pressing against the flat of her belly to pull her even closer. She felt safe and warm here, wherever here was. A drowsy smile spread over her face, a hand gently brushing over the strong thing that held her.
Until she caught the scent...
Karim?!
Fiery red eyes flew open, trying to gather her bearings on where she was and how she'd ended up here. The wolf's breath was warm against her neck, still sound asleep and cradling her tightly, making her that much more aware of her state of undress. Aelin lay frozen.
How long had he been there? Whose tent were they in? And why in Aerðs' name were they naked? Her heart pounded fervently at the implications, feeling herself growing hotter by the minute before slowly attempting to detangle herself from under his arm and the piles of furs that covered them to search for her clothes, hoping to make a quick escape before he woke up.
Gods boil me...
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