The Werewolf Order (Erotica)

Her second trip through town is just as uneventful, except that this time the sentries are awake, their keen eyes watching her every movement as she passes them one by one. Seeing that there are two standing together near the entrance of the encampment, she looks up long enough to see Quell next to the much older sentry. His gaze follows her, a soft smirk touching his lips when she looks at him.

Coral can’t help but return the small smile, dropping her gaze when she nears them, “Good morning, sir,” she says softly as she walks by.

“Good morning, Coral,” Quell’s voice drifts to her ears.

She can feel his eyes on her as she ties the cows to the adjacent post. She empties the bucket again, carrying it back with her as she passes him. She wills herself not to look up, but at the last moment she throws him a glance, caught by him as he watches her blatantly. Feeling her cheeks grow red, she hurries back home.

It takes her a while longer to lure the bull close enough to get a rope around his neck. Bribing him with sweet grain, she quickly ties a second rope through the ring in his nose, her heart beating fast at having to lead such a fearsome creature that far of a distance. She is nervous, wondering if she should have started with the bull first, as now she runs the risk of folk in town waking up and startling him. Hoping for the best, she fills a half bucket of grain, just enough to entice him, and begins her trek. She keeps the lead rope much shorter, not wanting to give him anymore freedom than necessary.

Thankfully, she doesn’t meet anyone in town. The only ones awake are the same sentries, though this time, they all stare at her with a look of surprise, seeing the slender maiden lead the massive bull past. The moment she nears Quell, for whatever reason, the bull decides he has had enough and tries to pull free from her grasp.

Upon seeing the bull’s path start to waver, Quell immediately starts towards her. Coral, knowing exactly what to do, gives the bull a sharp tug on the rope through his nose ring, instantly giving the creature a reason to doubt his new found desire for freedom. Coral stops in her tracks, assuring the bull will mind her before offering him a quick mouthful of grain. When she glances up to see Quell calmly walking over, she lets the bull feed on as he speaks.

“I am surprised your not-father would allow you to take charge of such a dangerous creature,” he says, almost disapprovingly.

Coral takes the bucket from the bull and starts walking forward, bull in tow. Quell falls into step beside her, shortening his to match her slower pace.

“I think it has already been established that Piers doesn’t treat me very conventionally,” she replies softly. Arriving at the third post, she ties the bull’s two leads to it, emptying the grain onto the ground for him. Looking up, she can see a concerned look on Quell’s face.

“He doesn’t worry for your safety,” he states, though it seems as if it is a question.

Keeping his gaze for quite a while, she finally speaks, “I think he worries for me a lot, but instead of sheltering me as men often do for young women, he taught me how to deal with the dangers for myself, so that I could be better prepared for whatever might come.”

Quell slowly nods, “Then it seems your not-father has done a good job; every time I encounter you, you seem to be in the face of danger, meeting it head on and responding accordingly.”

As she slowly begins to walk towards her home, Quell follows.

“What danger was I in when we first met?” She asks, curiously.

He laughs slightly, “A young maiden walking fearlessly into a centaur encampment? I do not think there are any in your town who would have been as brave as you, to venture into the unknown.”

They stop at the entrance to the encampment. Coral can see Piers walking to them in the distance, leading several sheep and a few goats. She turns back to Quell, seeing him gaze upon her. The way he looks at her, the small smile on his lips makes her heart race. Thinking of their ride last night, how she explored her body for the first time while imagining it was him, her face starts to glow, “You have proven that I have less to fear from centaurs, than I do from the men in my own town,” she turns her gaze away, looking back as Piers draws nearer. Her voice is soft, almost a whisper, “I wish we had met under different circumstances, Quell. I would have enjoyed getting to know you.” Without another word, she leaves him to help Piers bring in the goats.

They had to load up both donkeys with the caged chickens, but she helps Piers unload those as well. With a lead in each hand, he leaves her as he heads home. The sun has risen and though it was still early morning, there is work to be done to prepare for the midday meal to come. The town always prepares a humble, but plentiful meal to share with the centaurs, though the past few Atonements have seen only the upper class of the town venture to join them. Coral quickly heads over to the large cooking area set up near the encampment; tucked under the shade of a large oak tree, five women have already begun preparations. Coral jumps right in, though she can still feel the watchful eye of Quell on her for the next few hours.

When the meal is finally finished, several dozen of the centaurs have come out from the encampment, gathered in smaller groups near the cooking area. Unlike the day before when they had arrived, they are all dressed elegantly; long sleeved, white shirts under vests and in some cases, wearing jackets as well. They look rather civilized, aside from the fact that they aren’t wearing any pants. From a distance, it truly looks like a man on top of a headless horse.

The Governor, his wife and son, plus several other upper class families from the town finally appear as well. Though the meal is meant to serve as a coming together for the two species, all it does is to emphasize the great chasm between them.

Three of the women prepare plates of food; the townsfolk have no reservations about drifting over to the area to get a plate; the centaurs, however, remain still in their clusters, making no motion to help themselves, requiring them to be served. Some saw it as haughty, but as Coral carries four plates at a time towards them, she sees it for what it is-awkwardness. They feel unaccepted, so they remain apart. Two of the other women carry plates as well; before started they all asked Coral to serve Rainer, as they were too afraid to go near the leader. Taking it in stride, she goes directly to him. He stands with the three centaurs from yesterday, Quell, the younger injured one, and the plump older one.

Rather gracefully, considering, Coral manages a small curtsey before offering a plate first to Rainer, then to the young one, the plump one, and finally to Quell. As he takes his plate from her, he runs his hand slowly over hers beneath it. From the look in his eyes, Coral knows it was on purpose.Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Would you care for some ale, sir?” She quietly asks Rainer.

The dark centaur looks at her curiously for a moment, before casting a brief glance to Quell, “Yes, that would be appreciated, maiden.”

With a nod, she returns to the cooking area, pouring four full mugs from the sideways casks. This time, when she arrives back, all four are staring at her.

“Here you are, sir,” she says, serving Rainer first.

“Thank you, Ms… Coral, correct?”

Nodding, she pauses momentarily in case they want anything else; when no one responds, she continues serving the other centaurs.

After all of the centaurs and people have been served, Coral takes a plate for herself and sits with the other women who made the meal, away from the main group and under the shade of the tree. Cross legged under her dress with the plate in her lap, she picks at the roasted meat.

“Honestly,” one of the ladies says, “the centaurs were more polite than our townsfolk.”

“Aye,” adds another, “I was surprised as well. I mean, I know the dark one is their leader, but aside from that he acts the same as the rest of them. Not all better-than-though, like the Lord All Mighty Governor himself.”

A few of them laugh, “Some of our kin are a bigger horses’ ass than the centaurs, too.”

Coral can’t help but let out a chuckle at the quip as well.

“Coral, you’re at your eighteenth year, aren’t ye?” The old woman next to her wonders.

“Yes,” she replies, her thoughts drawn back to the Celebration that will happen tomorrow. Ever since she was little, she was looking forward to getting her garland, but now, knowing that it also condemns her to a life with Tobias, she can’t help but feel a little bitter.

“Ah, so you get to be registered for the plucking then. For a youngling, it is not a pleasant experience.”

Frowning, she turns to the woman, “What do they do?”

“Well,” the old lady figures out how to word it, “there will be a centaur, the one that keeps their books, and an older woman. He mainly asks you questions, but she… well, since you are not yet a bride, she will check to make sure you are still a maiden.”