Author's Note: Thanks be to Krissta for editing duty. Thanks to everyone else for your enduring patience. Hope you enjoy!
*****
Ulf Bloodwrath was studying a wooden penis, and he wasn't quite sure why.
It had begun when he'd reported to the training fields earlier that morning only to find Ulag, the proving master, bearing down on him like an oncoming hurricane. The old orc had then spent a good ten minutes bellowing loudly in Ulf's face about the dangers of defacing the training equipment before shoving Ulf into the armoury. It was then that he'd first seen Nullik and things started to make some sense. His friend, pack mate, and occasional bane of his existence had been sat waiting after having already received a loud scolding from Ulag. During the night it seemed that someone had crept inside the proving grounds and had scribbled some very scandalous suggestions about the questionable presence of master Ulag's testicles across the training armour. They had also taken the time to carve several of the fighting clubs to look like male genitalia. Because of this, Ulf found himself in the odd predicament of regarding a large wooden carving of a shlong, wondering what in the almighty shit-pits was happening.
He looked up from the wooden pecker and narrowed his eyes at Nullik.
"It wasn't me!" Oddly enough, Nullik seemed to be quite genuine for once. He was a consummate prankster, but he couldn't lie about his antics without bursting into laughing fits. Not even to save his life.
"Well who
else
would be this idiotic?" Ulf grumbled before walking over to the bucket of water and taking out one of the rough scrubbing cloths to begin cleaning up the mess.
"I don't know, but I want to find out."
"So that we can beat them senseless for getting us into this mess?"
"Actually, I was thinking of buying them an ale and swapping suggestions." Nullik grinned as he regarded a chest plate that poetically suggested Ulag had enjoyed several improper dalliances with mountain goats.
"Nullik, so help me if I find out this was you I'll-"
"It really wasn't! I know I like a joke, but I'm not exactly this . . . eloquent."
"No. No you're not." Ulf grunted and picked up another chest plate to start scrubbing.
It took the pair of them almost the entire morning to clean off the obscene writing from the armour and then to go out and carve some new training clubs to replace the ones that had taken on a phallic appearance during the night. Nullik was clearly the chief suspect, and given his past actions Ulf could hardly blame Ulag for suspecting him. As the leader of Nullik's pack, it was Ulf's duty to share the punishment. It hadn't exactly helped that his pack mate often stopped to show him some of the more imaginative insults scrawled on the armour with a tone of gleeful reverence. It was like watching an amateur craftsman admire the work of a master.
Annoying as that was, he didn't truly believe that Nullik was the culprit. For one thing, Nullik's usual pranks weren't quite so overt. So he told the younger orc to get some lunch with the rest of the pack whilst he took the final box of wooden trouser snakes to the jungle to be burned. Obviously, Ulag wanted the matter taken care of with discretion and Ulf didn't want to get even further into the proving master's bad side. In truth, he didn't particularly want to get caught carrying a box of dong-shaped weapons around the camp at any rate. Things like that tended to start rumours.
He made his way alone out along the path to the forest, feeling his stomach rumbling in protest at walking in the opposite direction of where his lunch was waiting for him. To pass the time, he thought of numerous ways to beat the living snot out of the phantom trickster that had gotten him into so much unwarranted trouble. He found a quiet and secluded spot and used some kindling and flint to set the box of wooden man-rods alight.
That was when the hand reached out from within the foliage to grab his shoulder.
Reacting without thought, he shifted to the side and grabbed the wrist of his would-be stalker before twisting around to lock their arm in place in an attempt to render it useless. The move was instinctive, well practiced and far too old fashioned to work on the owner of the hand. As Ulf tried to lock the arm, his assailant gracefully flipped backwards to render the twist useless and bent her arm to smash an elbow into Ulf's face. The stunned expression on him was priceless. All that remained to be done was a simple hook of her heel behind his leg, followed by hard shove to send him careening off balance and falling down onto his back.
He recognised the sultry laugh that followed and it immediately set him at ease. That relief only lasted a moment, and he quickly tensed up again as the fear and excitement of battle was replaced with embarrassment. He felt a pleasant weight descend upon him and the world stopped spinning to allow him to see the beautiful jade coloured face of Ulla Strongblood resting over him. She pinned him to the grass effortlessly, pushing his wrists down against the earth over his head. It gave him quite a view of her plentiful chest, snugly held back by a thick strap of fur that couldn't quite contain her curves. Instead, it offered a spectacular view of her deep cleavage merely inches away from his nose.
"Yield?" she asked.
Ulf squirmed beneath her, he was stronger than Ulla and he could have overpowered her. Unfortunately for some reason his heart wasn't quite in it, especially when his struggling caused her luscious breasts to jiggle so enticingly inside her top. She grinned when she saw where Ulf's eyes were fixed and took the opportunity to quickly smash her forehead against his nose. The impact took a considerable amount of the fight out of him.
"Yield." This time she said it as more of an order than a suggestion.
"Fine! By the First, Ulla. What are you doing here?" Ulf growled the words whilst she released his hands so he could rub his sore nose.
She lifted herself up over him on her knees, settling her rump down on his lap and extending her arms above her head to stretch out in a languid victory pose over her fallen opponent.
"Nullik said you'd gone into the jungle to burn something. I followed you out and brought you something to eat, dear alpha." She turned her head and nodded to the linen bag she'd brought with her before seeing the opportunity to sneak up on him.
Ulla was one of the Runts. They were considered the weakest pack in the proving grounds, though Ulla's problem wasn't that she couldn't fight. One-on-one she could have probably taken out half of the encampment. Ulla's problem was that she couldn't listen. Teamwork was an almost alien concept to her and she'd been through five other packs before finally falling in with the Runts. All of the other packs had rejected her because she simply wouldn't do as she was told.
Ulf had kept her, and for that she seemed to have developed a grudging sense of gratitude. Though Ulla's thanks often came with an ass-whupping the like of which he'd just received. If he was honest, he hadn't kept her with them because she was a useful member of the pack. She was headstrong, she didn't get on with anyone, and in a true battle she would probably get them all killed.
He'd allowed her to stay simply because looking at Ulla Strongblood had quite a strong affect on him. She was strong, fast, and a great fighter. It was only right that he should respect that. At least that's what he'd told himself for the past year she'd been with his pack. Lately, however, even he had to admit that it was much more than respect that kept his eyes wandering over to her whenever the opportunity presented itself.
Those wandering eyes of his hadn't gone unnoticed by Ulla. She quite enjoyed the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention. Others looked, of course. Why shouldn't they? She was Ulla Strongblood, younger sister of Rowun Strongblood. She would be a prized mate for any male
if
they could best her. She had already started getting unofficial little challenges for her affection the previous year, and had even begun to accept those challenges two months ago. So far none had managed to claim her affections in direct combat and she hadn't felt that any of them deserved for her to go easy on them.
