Issvarg Meets Her Wolven Brethren 

Issvarg awoke with a dry mouth, groggily coming to life as she adjusts to a ray of light that lands right on her eyes. She sits up and stretches, arching her back and jutting her chest forward as she does, cracking her various bones and limbering up. Issvarg looks around and notices she’s outside, laying on a blanket in the nude. Though she hardly notices it, she’s in a mountain covered in snow. An onlooker would see her nude body, showing off a plethora of scars and other wounds, a heavy helping of tight muscle and generous proportions. Issvarg doesn’t seem to care, her nipples perked up due to the cold but otherwise seemingly unphased.

Slowly, she yawns and stands up, looking around to ascertain her whereabouts. She must’ve gotten drunk and done lord knows what, as she sees scratch marks and disturbances to nature almost circling her resting spot. Walking around, she slowly finds pieces of her clothing, discarded seemingly without care in random locations. Getting clothed, she suddenly remembered why she was out here. She’d come with a party, out to subjugate a werewolf that was terrorizing nearby townsfolk. Who they were, she no longer recollects, as she barely met them before going off for a drink and ending up out here. 

“Guess I need to head back to town, try and meet up with ‘em. They won’t be able to look for him without me around.” Issvarg says to herself, groaning as her body aches from the rough sleep. Eventually finding all of her gear, Issvarg sets out. While traveling through the snowy forest, she picks up on a few scents. Though the cold dulled her senses, she could still pick up clear distinctions between some more pungent smells. Her stomach growled, as Issvarg realized she hadn't a bite to eat in a while. Opening her bag only led to disappointment, as it seems a wild animal must have gotten into her rations. It is entirely possible the wild animal was her during a drunken stupor.

"Well fuck, guess I'll have to put in some work." Issvarg says, closing her bag as she shuts her eyes. She sniffs around, looking to pick up the trail of some game. Finding nothing in the immediate vicinity, she continues to walk while taking care to keep her senses busy. A ways into her continued journey and Issvarg finally picks up something. It was definitely a beast of some sort...the smell of dirty fur was strong. Tracking it, she followed the scent to a small clearing, surrounded by sense woods on all sides.

Issvarg peered into the opening to discern the scent...aha! A deer was sat there grazing through the snow, likely pushing it aside to find food underneath. Issvarg tensed up, standing on edge as she readied her body for action. This would be easy - she could clear that distance in a flash. She stepped forwards slightly, readying the pounce...

CRACK!

She stepped on a small twig, and just as the deer looked up she took that as a go, lunging out towards it with her claw-like nails extended, ready to grasp. The moment before she reached her prey, something else came barreling out of the nearby woods, taking the deer with it towards the center of the clearing. 

Issvarg landed hard onto the ground, her momentum ruined by this sudden change in situation. Spitting out some dirt, she looked to her left, to see what took her prey. Hunched over it and facing away from Issvarg was a large black-furred beast. Its fur mottled and dirty, clearly gone unwashed for some time. As it dug into the deer, swiftly killed to quiet it, the beast seemed to ignore Issvarg for the time being. After spending this moment to take a look over it, she realized that this creature was definitely the source of the scent from before. 

"Hey! You wanna become my next meal instead? Drop the deer and get out of here!" Issvarg yelled out to the creature, standing poised and ready to strike with her right hand rested above her holstered chain. The beast seemed to ignore Issvarg, ravenously devouring the meal it now held. Issvarg growled in frustration, unholstering her chain and sending the spiked links hurtling towards the beast. The chains hit true, sending a deep cut into its back as it howled in pain, dropping the deer onto the ground. 

“How do ya like that?” Issvarg grinned, retracting the chain and readying it for another strike. “You’d best be off now, unless you’d like another taste!”. The beast huffed, clearly filling with rage at the wound inflicted upon it. Slowly turning towards Issvarg, the beast grew taller as it raised upon its hind legs. What was previously some indescribable mass of muscle and fur now took on a concrete shape. A werewolf stood in front of Issvarg, towering over the wolven kin as its breath washed over her, visible from the cold air. Its fur was marred by various scars scattered across its chest, soaked in fresh blood from the recent kill. Its muscles rippled as the beast leaned forward and let out a vicious series of barks towards her, blood and drool dripping onto the ground. 

In response, Issvarg let out her own convincing barks and growled at the beast, readying herself for combat. The response confused the werewolf, who tilted its head at her, as Issvarg took advantage and swung her chain once more towards the lycan. Its reflexes were quick, and the werewolf managed to block the brunt of the strike with its forearm, causing the chain to wrap around. The spikes dug into the arm of the monster, as the cold that usually didn’t phase it started to seep deeply into its arm, causing pain to radiate further from its wound. Issvarg released the chain and ran up to it, aiming to attack while it’s distracted.

She dug her nails and sharp fangs into its thigh, attempting to rip out a chunk of flesh, but failing to do so. Straining, she just couldn't seem to get past the rippling muscle of the beast, and it seemed not to even be phased by her. It managed to unwrap the chain, sighing in some relief as a notable amount of damage has been done to the skin and fur where it touched. The beast looked aside now, noticing Issvarg's feeble attack, and proceeded to bat her aside with ease, sending her flying into a tree with a yelp.

Issvarg rubbed her head, the kin growing frustrated after her failed attempt. She stood, spitting out the werewolf's blood and readying herself once again.

"You may be a big lunk, but I know how to deal with that. How's your arm feeling there?" she sneered at him, before rushing to him once again. The werewolf barked in response, and swung at the wolf-kin, but seeming to be to too slow for her reaction speed. Having closed the gap, Issvarg thrust forward with her fingers straightened, and stabbed into the abdomen of the beast. This time her strike lands true, hitting a softer part of its body as she goes in for another strike.

Laughing, Issvarg grew confident as this seemed to have an effect on the beast, who yelled in pain as her fingers sank into his body. Going for another strike, Issvarg was caught by surprise as the monster jumped back and raked its claws at her, tearing lightly into her flesh and into clothes, as her top fell off in ribbons around her. Issvarg's ample chest fell loose, and the werewolf was treated to the sight of her muscular, scarred body. This caught the monster off guard, as until now it has only viewed her as a rival, an opponent and nothing more. Now, a more primal urge pushed into its head, seeing not just a female in front of it, but one with such a strong demeanor. 

No longer was this a fight for territory, or a meal. A more urgent desire filled the head of the werewolf, as its - no, his - intentions became more clear. He chuffed, looking over the wolf-kin eagerly, as she noticed the shift in his demeanor. Looking down, she finally notices his gender, seeing an ample set of orbs beneath a sheathe, highlighted by a small point of red, threatening to grow further. “Heh, too much stimulation for you, big guy? Too bad, I’ve encountered tougher monsters than you who’ve failed to get their way with me!” Issvarg proclaimed, neglecting to consider that any of these so-called tougher monsters have always been with a team. The werewolf simply barked, renewed with a clear goal in mind: get this kin underneath him.

He readied on all fours, as Issvarg readied herself for him, but it felt like an instant when he ended up atop her, pinning her arms above her with one hand. The werewolf grabbed at her torso, cupping her breasts and running his claw down, before hooking it into her pants. “H-hey, knock it o-” Issvarg started to yell in anger, before the beast tore down, splitting the front of her pants open and revealing herself to the lycan. Enraged, Issvarg yelled out, her eyes seeming to glow brighter as suddenly lances of ice shot out from the ground around her, catching on her remaining clothing and spearing the wolf in multiple locations, hitting the edges of its arms, torso and legs and sending the monster flying back from her. She stood up, a frost forming on parts of her body as a dense cloud of ice started to pour up from her mouth. 

Issvarg decided to tap more into her feral nature, getting down on all fours and rushing at her opponent, similarly using her claw-nails and fangs to slowly gouge at her opponent. The two of them fought roughly for a time, with Issvarg landing smaller blows at a quicker rate, the werewolf managing only a few deeper strikes. After some time, the two of them stood in front of each other, bloodied and panting. Issvarg had done her best, but none of her strikes were able to land true, and her strength was waning. The werewolf was clearly exerted but was standing proud, in more ways than one. This fight had only served to excite him further as he thought of Issvarg as nothing more than something to conquer. He’s won the combat - but that was nowhere near enough. His cock was standing rigid, a deep red rod pulsating off of his body, pointed in her direction.

“A-alright, I’m tired of dealing with you so you can just h-have the meal, okay?” Issvarg said, stuttering partly from exhaustion, but largely from worry. The beast stepped towards her as Issvarg stepped back, considering her options. A slight clanging of metal sounded under her feet, as Issvarg looked down to realize her chain was discarded below. The werewolf lunged at her, and Issvarg ducked under its jump, rolling as she pulled the chain with her. With a crack, she swung the chain once like a whip and gave the beast a deep gash on its chest as it turned around. Reeling it back, she swung once more while aiming for its neck, hoping to finally subdue it. The werewolf was furious, caught off guard by the first strike as she hadn’t been using it prior. His reflexes were too much for her this time, as he managed to grab hold of the moving chain, letting the spikes dig in for grip as he yanked her towards himself.

Issvarg yelped as she was pulled into him, her exposed body shoved against his own as one arm held across her back kept the kin in place. She could feel the fur and muscle against her skin, Issvarg’s top gone and her legs exposed down to the thighs from their combat. Despite the cold, he was hot, threatening to melt her with the warmth radiating from his body, and the steam of his breath. But the most pertinent heat coming from him came from below. His cock, at a full mast of almost a foot, rest between her thighs and against her sex. It throbbed and jumped constantly, bumping against her repeatedly as it made itself known. The warmth from this alone could probably keep a small tent heated...

Issvarg struggled against the lycan, but could barely budge his iron grip, especially due to her exhaustion. Her hands were free, having been yanked up by the chain earlier, and  she began to scratch at his chest. Just as she was starting to leave cuts the wolven beast growled and barked at the kin. Throwing her to the ground, it took the chain and roughly wrapped it around her wrists. The barbs of the chain dug into her, as she yelled out in pain. Luckily the magic was attuned to her so there wasn’t a fear of frostbite, but it was by no means comfortable.  He then wrapped it around her torso, restraining the kin’s arms behind herself. 

“GAH, you fucker! I’m gonna tear you to- ah!” Issvarg started to yell, before he once again held her against himself. She gasped as the werewolf ground its dick into her, rubbing against her folds and leaking precum over her thighs. He wrapped her legs into his own, and started to pump vigorously between her legs. Issvarg was ashamed and appalled, both at losing the fight and becoming the plaything of this vile creature. She struggled as best she could against the werewolf, but between its tight grip and the binding there was nothing she could do. She growled and chomped towards the werewolf, in between gasps as unwanted twinges of pleasure shot through her, the heat almost unbearable. The tip of his rod bumped into her fluffy tail, covering it in precum as the hairs only stimulated him further.