Kissed By The Rain Ch. 01

May 31, 2024 // By:analsex // No Comment

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Author Notes: Yes, I know…..still got other fics that are currently in process on this site, but this new tale seemed to take on a whole life of its own. So, I decided to post the first chapter. Thanks to each and every one of you, who take the time to at least check it out!. Funny thing is, I originally planned for it to be a follow-up to Under His Spell (was going to be a past life flashback to show that Takoda and Lynn had spent a previous life together), but then the characters just took over and decided they wanted a story all of their own. Sounds crazy, I know, but that is EXACTLY just the way it went down.

Hope you enjoy! Xxx

* * * * * * * * * *

The wolf ran swiftly through the forest, trees becoming a blur as he sped right past them. Large in size, he was impressively built, chest narrow yet powerful and commanding attention. His fur was a mixture of gray and white, with bits of black, while the underpart and legs were a yellow-white. His muzzle dripped with blood, still fresh and warm from his recent kill. Yet instead of his usual prey, the one he’d just taken down was of the human species. Like a dog he ran on his toes, lengthening his legs so he could travel even quicker.

He knew the land well, as he’d grown up in the forest since the age of a pup, and the scent he was catching just didn’t fit in. Invaders were on his trail, and he could tell by their smell they were like the one he’d just killed. Simply put, they were people who just didn’t belong on the land. In his heart he knew they were hunting him, and dashing at top speed, he sought to evade them.

Twigs snapped beneath his feet, paws padding over forest debris as he ran quicker. A loud boom echoed through the forest, letting him know they were closing in. Suddenly the scent of sulfur hung thick in the air, both threatening and oppressive all at the same time. His nostrils flared wildly, not knowing the scent yet understanding that it was somehow connected to death. And it was then that he knew he couldn’t head straight back to his people, as tracing a path to the camp would surely lead to the tribe’s destruction.

Veering away from his usual path, the wolf cut through a mossy thicket, then jumped over a fallen log. Yet the wolf was more than certain that they wouldn’t be easily thrown off, and as if to confirm, another loud burst of sound went off. This time it was close enough to sting his ears, and the impact of sound was nearly deafening.

Also overbearing was the scent of one of the invaders, yet no sooner did his nostrils capture the stink, did a soft whoosh of air pass right by his head. To his wolf ears it sounded like a pop, most unnatural and completely off-putting. But he had no time to process what was happening, as a hot, burning sensation suddenly spread along his right ear.

He couldn’t see the patch of fur which had been singed right off, but he could feel the scorching sensation from whatever had hit him. Rather than fear he was energized, and ready to battle whatever had caused it. Adrenaline kicked in and he now slowed his pace, as whatever sought him out was now right up on him. Letting his bladder loose he marked the ground, releasing his scent so his tribal brothers knew where he had been.

He was just finishing up when a figure stepped into sight, clearly a wasichu from the looks of his pale face. Holding a rifle he pointed it right at the wolf, finger pressing the trigger as he lined up the shot. Golden-yellow eyes narrowing at the hunter, the wolf uttered a low-throated growl, then rushed forward and sprung up.

In the span of a second, an arrow whizzed through the air, sinking into the man’s neck with brazen speed. The hunter had no time to process his final moments, as a tomahawk sailed through the air, striking him dead right on the spot. The timber wolf watched as the man fell to his knees, then onto his side in a motionless heap.

Whoops of victory could suddenly be heard, and the wolf spotted a fellow warrior emerge from thick brush. Known to the tribe as Hawk, he stood at medium-height, with two long braids which reached mid-back. A second tribal brother came forth as well, revealing himself from behind a fallen tree. Known as Runs With Courage, he had bow in hand, and regarded the wolf with a disapproving look. Then, through the power of his mind alone, he began speaking to the wolf telepathically.

‘Why did you shift?’ Runs With Courage asked. ‘Shifting is done to overcome enemies we couldn’t normally fight off in our human forms.’

‘I shifted to protect our land,’ the wolf thought back. ‘The invaders were getting too close, they would have found us.’

‘We protect our lands in human form.’ Hawk’s face set in a stern expression.

‘But I couldn’t have possibly picked up their scent in my human form, and you know that.’

‘Shifting is done to fight against the Hestovatohkeo’o. In our wolf forms, we can rip that demon apart.’

‘The invaders are a much bigger threat to our people. We can’t just görükle escort sit back and let them find us, we must go after them.’

‘You should have alerted us.’ Hawk heavily frowned. ‘We go out as a pack, Dancing Wolf, not all alone.’

Standing erect with tail held high, the wolf stared him down. A quiet confidence took over his entire demeanor as he sent a message telepathically back.

‘My spirit called me out beyond the camp, so I went. Somebody needed to survey it, and that was me.’

‘We could have gone with you, Dancing Wolf. We have to back you up.’

‘And you did,’ the wolf thought back. ‘You took down the wasichu that trespassed onto our land.’

‘There were two others, a full mile back.’ It was Runs With Courage who sent the thought through now. ‘One had his throat ripped out, and the other we took down with an arrow.’

The wolf’s muzzle was still soaked with blood, so it was no secret that he was the one who’d ripped out the throat. It was news to the wolf, however, that his pack brothers had taken care of the other wasichu.

‘We did what was needed to protect our people,’ the wolf relayed. Go back to the camp now, you both did your part.’

The two Hunkpapa Lakota warriors exchanged an uncertain look, then following the command of their alpha, started off. Once they were out of sight the wolf began to change form, shifting from fur into smooth skin. The narrow, powerful chest transformed into broad shoulders and a hard, hairless chest. His body had a mind of its own now and he gasped, trying his best to catch his breath as incredibly pain rocketed right through his form.

The lower half was next to shift, no longer resembling that of a wolf, yet only a man. Narrow waist, lean hips, and long, muscular legs were now on display, along with his manhood, which hung long and proud between his thighs. Silky hair grew from his scalp, trailing down over his shoulders and breastbone, until it hit that point just below his breastbone. Jet black and glossy, it was bound in leather ties, which allowed his locks to beautifully drape over his broad, muscled chest.

Now fully in his human form, Dancing Wolf stretched out his tall, lean body, neck muscles cracking as he adjusted his neck. Perspiring from the stressful ordeal his body had just endured, he pushed out a breath that was hot and heavy. As the last few bones fully shifted into place he let out a grunt, long and low and undeniably masculine. Noticing that a breechcloth had been left by his tribal brothers, he positioned the animal skin against his crotch, then tied it in place. There were also a pair of moccasins left behind for him as well, and after slipping his feet into them, found himself grateful to have some covering on his otherwise naked form.

Eyes shifting to the dead wasichu on the ground, he immediately went over to take possession of the rifle. While he may not have know it was a Remington Rolling Block Rifle, he was able to discern it was a powerful weapon. With guns so hard to come by for Native tribes, it was definitely a valuable find, and would come in handy during hunting or battling their enemies for resources. The gun had a strap attached to it, and slinging it over his shoulder, he allowed the weapon to rest comfortably against his back. Pleased at the way things had gone, Dancing Wolf gazed up at the branches which framed the sky. Speaking a prayer to his Creator in his Lakota language, he gave thanks that he was still alive, and had been able to stop the invaders from ravaging the camp.

But then suddenly, cutting through the peaceful stillness of the forest, he heard a tiny little squeak, not too unlike a mouse in its high-pitched range. Ears perking at the sound he strained to hear more, but the only noise now was wind rustling through the trees.

Not a problem, he thought to himself, because his gaze was pointed right towards the direction where the sound had come. In his wolf form he could hear from as far as six miles away. But in human form, his hearing ability was decreased to three. Still plenty of range, and that was how he knew which direction the sound had come from. Focusing very intently on a huge, fallen tree trunk, the Lakota warrior stepped slowly towards it, ears still keenly attuned to pick up even the slightest bit of sound. Covered with thick underbrush and patches of moss, the fallen tree was cleverly hidden. It was also positioned at an angle, which provided the perfect cover for one who wished to hide.

Taking his time at approaching it, the shifter could now pick up the sound of very heavy breathing. Whomever was hiding tried very hard to muffle it, but he heard it all the same, along with a heartbeat which thumped out in fear. Now standing right next to the well-disguised fallen tree, the Lakota man eyed it curiously. Tilting his head to the side and furrowing his brows, he wondered why in hell he hadn’t picked up this hider’s scent. Even now, as he was right up on them he found it a struggle, bursa escort bayan as the only fragrance he discerned was that of a rabbit.

But a rabbit wouldn’t breathe in the way that this human did, all hot and heavy and filled with fear. The heartbeat was also different, not belonging to that of the smaller prey he was using to hunting, but of a full-grown human being.

Enough of this guessing game, he thought to himself, and lowering himself into a squat, grabbed hold of the fallen trunk before lifting it up. Like a toy in his hands he tossed it aside, where it violently collided with an upright tree. The sound and vibration caused the birds perched above to break out in flight, screeching in terror as they quickly fled off.

No longer hidden by the rotting tree trunk, a fully exposed young black woman shrieked out in terror, back flat against the leaves which carpeted the ground. Gazing up in pure horror her eyes widened to a comical size, primal scream piercing the eardrums of this man who had rooted her out. Regarding her with intense focus, he took note of her skin, which was a rich brown color that reminded him of freshly turned earth. But it was hard to take inventory of anything else, as the sound she continued to make was the most high-pitched and unbearable caterwaul he had ever heard.

Desperate to make it stop he reached out for the woman, but this only intensified her fear. Now struggling to scramble away she quickly flipped over, then clawed at the ground as she pathetically scooted forward. The way she crawled was crab-like, so feeble and useless that he almost took pity on her. But then he remembered that she’d seen him shift, and knowing full well that he couldn’t just let her take off, clutched her waist with a forceful grip.

Lifting her up was effortless, both hands surrounding the soft curve of her feminine waist. Vice-like and exuding power, his arms now effortlessly cradled her, and by this time her screams had become rasping breaths. Along with trembling in his grasp she was also hyperventilating, as the shock was far too much for her system to fully take on. The terror she exuded was keenly felt by the Lakota warrior, and knowing full well she was totally helpless, he softened his gaze as he carried her off.

Like a doll in the arms of a giant she gazed up at him, big brown eyes wide with fear and total uncertainty. It was now that he had the chance to really check her out, and fixing his gaze on her hair, noticed how thick and unusually textured it was. Worn in two long plaits that nearly reached her waist, the woman had locks he couldn’t help but stare at. Completely different from his own, he wondered what it would feel like beneath his fingers. Then suddenly he took note of the scent wafting up from her body, and he finally realized why he hadn’t immediately known that she was in hiding.

This woman reeks of rabbit grease, he curiously thought, and that was when he came to understand that her entire body had been slathered in it. But why, the Lakota man thought as he gazed down at her with a puzzled expression. Staring back up at him she gave him no answer, only shook uncontrollably in his arms as a visible pulse in her neck violently quivered.

It was a full three miles to get back to his people’s camp, but since he was a shifter the journey wouldn’t be hard. At normal human speed it would have taken a good hour, but with his supernatural strength and extreme endurance, he would easily make it within ten minutes. Running would be even quicker but she was already frightened enough, so walking was clearly the better choice.

Knowing the forest like the back of his hand, the Hunkpapa Lakota warrior used his internal GPS. Keenly aware of just where to step, his bare feet avoided the knobby roots which were underfoot, as well as wickedly sharp brambles and thorns. The woman had grown quiet now and that was good, but her body was stiff and tight, a little clammy too, which did concern him.

Wind flowed through the trees as they journeyed along, both melodic and mysterious as it played a celestial tune.

* * * *

Eyes gazing up at this wolf-man who held her, the young black woman couldn’t help but check out his features, noting the reddish-brown tint of his skin. Contrasting beautifully with his jet black hair, it had a hue she couldn’t help but admire. Then her gaze returned to his locks, and it was then that she studied the way it was bound in some kind of material, which made a criss-cross pattern against his hair. Made

from buffalo rawhide, the traditional hair ties held the strands of his hair in two long ponytails that went down past his breastbone.

Where she came from, men didn’t wear their hair like that — all long and silky and adorned with these unusual ties. The hair of this wolf man who held her had waves in it, and she couldn’t help wondering what he did to keep it looking so good. High-boned and remarkably handsome, the warrior’s face wore a serious bursa escort expression, yet there was also a gentleness beneath it all. Although she was quite slim from a lack of proper nourishment, the woman began to wonder how he could carry her so effortlessly for as long as he had. With no clue as to how long it would take to reach their destination, she deeply pondered what his plans were.

If he had wanted to kill her he would have already done it, but who was to say he hadn’t planned something else that was almost as bad? Having escaped from a plantation deep in the heart of Texas, she was terrified of being sent back. But what if this man would do just that, and was only treating her gently so that she wouldn’t fight back?

As if I would have a chance, anyhow. Her heart beat quickly. The man is both wolf and human. He changed forms right in front of my eyes!

Muscles tensing at the mere memory, she began to pray he wouldn’t shift form again. And then suddenly a thought came into her head, and stomach rolling in dread, she began to wonder if he would eat her. No sooner was the thought released did the man react, shifting his tapered eyes to her face with a pained expression. Brows furrowing and lips going tight, he stared so intently into her eyes, that she was certain he was feeling disgust.

It almost seemed he was insulted from the way he was looking at her, as a how could you type of look suddenly took over the features of his gorgeous face. Had he somehow read her thoughts, been able to discern what it was that she was thinking?

No that was just ridiculous, he couldn’t possibly have intruded my thoughts…..

But was it impossible? As he had, after all, already changed from wolf to man in a matter of minutes. He’d also picked up the fallen tree she’d been hidden under, then thrown it aside as if it were nothing more than a feather light twig. Swallowing dryly at the thought, she realized that not many things were impossible with this Native warrior, as he’d already shown that he was definitely of a different kind. No longer staring at her face, he focused straight ahead now, and that made it easier to dismiss the possibility that he could clearly hear her thoughts.

The forest seemed endless as they continued along, and mind shifting to her harrowing escape from the plantation, she recalled how completely terrifying it had all been. Choosing only to travel at night, she’d had close encounters with all sorts of wild animals and biting insects. More than once she had almost been poisoned by a snake, and while crossing a river during her way through Nebraska, she’d nearly gone under and drowned.

The physical stress hadn’t stopped there, as the bread and dried meat she’d brought along didn’t last long at all, so she’d resorted to roots and leaves, which were terribly bitter in flavor. Thanks to the knowledge she’d garnered from her grandparents, she knew which ones were safe to ingest.

Along the way she had looked for the lit up lanterns, which told her it was a safe place to shelter for the day. A dark one meant it was too dangerous to stop, and on those particular days, she had continued along, well beyond the point of exhaustion. Worst of all the adversities, however, had been the bloodhounds who sought to sniff her out. Led by the trackers who were under control of her master, they’d relentlessly pursued her trail. The only thing which had kept them at bay, was a mason jar of rabbit grease that she’d slathered on. From head to toe she’d covered herself, even working it into her hair so that the hounds missed her scent. It had worked like a charm alright, but after many months of traveling with sparse opportunities to properly bathe, she knew that she had to totally stink.

Suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious and ashamed, she dryly swallowed, then stiffened in his arms. Yet as far as she could tell, he didn’t take note of her scent. Not only was his face completely calm, but he still carried her as a groom would hold his bride.

Gazing up at the great forest trees, she saw that the branches were interlaced, which sifted the sunlight onto their forms in a delicate kind of pattern. Intensely curious as to their destination, the woman wondered what kind of plans he did have for her, as his ways were not just of a man, but a wild wolf as well. Heart palpating she dryly swallowed, then began to wonder if she shouldn’t plan an escape. She just hoped deep down in her heart he couldn’t hear her thoughts, because if he could that would leave her wide open.

* * * *

As they entered the camp all members of the tribe stared hard, focusing intently on the black woman who was held in Dancing Wolf’s arms. Brows rose in surprise and double takes were given, then whispering voices which were accompanied by pointing fingers. Not liking the attention she was getting, the runaway slave lowered her gaze, then nervously bit her lip as she came to wonder what would happen next. A crowd was gathering around them, keeping step as they reached out to touch her soiled clothing, which consisted of a plain linen blouse and long, simple skirt of matching material. Tattered, torn, and badly stained from her burdensome journey, the escaped slave woman wondered why they found it so fascinating to touch.

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