Here’s my latest story on Storgy.
For some, the urge to marry is strong, regardless of the consequences…
That night, Obsita was swarming, which was comforting for us. Exhausted after days of patrolling, hungry for food and company, it was gratifying to return to the tribe. Raids from the vespers and avis were thick in Saltus recently; they stole from our oothecas, murdering our burgeoning young. Of course, all of us were permanently at threat, and the knowledge of it lay thick amongst us – heavy as approaching thunder – but we were not afraid. As warriors, we were strong, ready; our instinct to protect.
The sultry night air filtered into the club, leaving a residue of moisture on our flesh. Strong drinks were required, and hopefully, if we were lucky, something more. Many of us were experiencing the pressure of the season – of Tempore – which was so much more than our usual urge to defend the tribe. Our mating instincts…
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