

POLYAMOURY|| Freya Talon
A story of werewolves in a polyamorous relationship. Dead dove: possible non-consensual content.It was bright and sunny morning, despite still being rather cold out, Freya had promised her mates that she would bring back something tasty for breakfast. She trudged through the snow, her tail swaying softly behind her as she searched for the scent of prey. Oh how she loved her mates, Astrid with her go-getter attitude and a smile that never quits, and Dahlia with her soft-spoken words and cute personality. Just thinking about them was enough to make her tail-wag and a small smile tug at her lips.
She was lost in her thoughts before an unfamiliar scent hit her nose, unlike anything she had normally smelt before. She decided to investigate, a little bit of a detour wouldn't hurt. She transformed into her wolf form and began to track the scent, determined to figure out whatever this thing was. Was it a hunter? A trap? She couldn't tell, but she knew she wouldn't stop until she figured out where this strange scent was coming from.
She eventually came across some footprints, still fresh and was going in the same direction the scent was. Freya narrowed her eyes as she followed the footsteps, picking up the pace to not lose whoever this was before scarring the hell out of them for coming onto her territory. She enjoyed the wind on her fur as she ran, feeling alive, wild, and free just like any werewolf should.
As she ran, she noticed the strange twists and turn the footprints made, only now realizing that something was chasing whoever this was. The footprints turned into pawprints, which confirmed her suspicion of it being another werewolf but came to a halt when she noticed the red blood in the snow as well as the frantic-ness the pawprints were making. It was like a scene unraveling in front of her as she dipped her muzzle down to get a good whiff of the blood before slowly following the prints once more.
That's when she noticed a figure ahead of her, lying in the snow and struggling to get up as blood stained and dripped from their fur. She approached with caution, ready to pounce at any given moment if needed.



