Tricks of the eyes.

Vapors creating curious shapes that surround an apparition that seems to be peering into the tent when the flap is opened by the breeze that's getting stronger. From the swaying mist of movement, a body now stands in front of me in flesh and blood. The Male looks tribal, ancient savage with a scar down the side of his face that all Far North males wear.

Two different fantom eye colors.

Grey and Gold.

A hauntedness in the way his eyes hone into mine.

"Help me." It could be an illusion of sound that I hear screaming against the wind but when it's said again in a form of a higher pitched cry, there is no mistaking what he's asking of me.

"Help me."

Blinking my eyes he's gotten closer to the entrance a hand extended out for me to take.

"Is he real Odin?"

"Yes, Charlie, Night is real." The low fire flicks orange flames in the air as more sage is burned creating a suffocation of breath.

His vision doesn't waver from mine. This Male tries to take a step through the entrance but he is unable to move past the grey-white wisps that surround him, preventing him like an invisible barricade.

Whines tempo out in great rushes of breath to surround the dwelling Odin has brought me in. A thick clinging mass of sage stings eyesight to the point of needing to close them. Shutting the flap to the entrance, Odin blocks the sight of the Male that looks so helpless away so it's just Odin and me inside this space where shadows are dancing along the walls as the fire spits and crackles.

The Night's terror sounds out...

Odin's hands are on my ears blocking out the sound that has my marrow liquifying in fear.

Ancient forest greens lock the world into place for me. The shudder of fear slips, replaced with a tremble that has the very base of my Nature shake.

The axis of the world shifts and I sway.

When I open my eyes, a cup is placed to my lips.

"Drink it all," Odin's sound stays lodged in the channel of my ear. The smell is sulphuric and pungent - scrunching my nose my stomach preparing itself for the assault.

It's bitter, I can taste it on the back of my tongue before any liquid is swallowed down.

"What is it?"

"It's nothing that you know. I climbed the cliffs where the Puffins make their nest in the springtime. It's due North of here. You need to drink this, My Half."

Inhaling again, the bottom of my stomach lurches itself up, I swallow the rise of bile that leaves a hot aftertaste against the back of my throat.

"It has to be strong enough for you. I tried to mask the taste with sugar. Now drink all of it down." Taking the cup from his hand, it's bone china delicate. Dark crimson flowers decorate the edges, I can't help but smile how pretty it looks.

Holding the cup carefully the liquid in it sloshes around the side, my hands are shaking and Odin's hand holds mine to steady my grip.

As soon as the liquid meets my throat again an urge to gag it back up is the only thing I can think about now.

"Keep it down." Odin's hand is rubbing my back as the internal fight begins to keep something inside me when every instinct is to rid myself of the offending substance.

My nose waters, the saliva pools in my mouth for me to spit out away from us.

A groan that can't be helps slips into the veiled air. The liquid doesn't settle well inside me. Pressing my nose into the hollow of Odin's neck calms the upheaval protests of my stomach. The deepness of Nature hits me, darken fertile soil consumes the taste of bitterness left in my mouth by that tea.

A minute maybe five go by, inhaling him in, clearing nausea with the skin of him.

The slide of sweat along the back of my neck has hot chills start into the tendons of muscle to tighten themselves along the bone line.

"I'm getting hot, Odin." The words come out clenched in a jaw that is grinding on back molars.

The surface of my skin is heating up.

"I have to finish painting you." It's a reluctant voice that oozes itself along the line of my neck. He picks up my hand, turning my wrist to kiss the pulse of life. The pad of his thumb traces his lips that he tattooed on my skin.

His tattoos now hold my vision hostage. The symbols lengthening as Odin lights candles inside, and the wind blows on the outside shell of the structure that doesn't bend with the force of her breath.

"What was your hardest tattoo to get?" My voice seems to be coming from the bottom of a deep canyon to bounce off the sides of the fur hides, I can almost see the waves of sound that shifts the air around us.

"Your lips were the hardest to do on me." Looking at all the images of his body, my lips seem like nothing compared to everything else that consumes the real estate on his skin.

"Why?"

"I had to get them perfect, just like the way your lips are." He leans in to press a kiss just smooth enough to hint at a pressure on the very edges of the skin.

A brush is picked up, and I watch him bring a blank canvas to life with stains.

The outlines give way to shades and tones to bring the impressions to life on my surface.

It tickles at times creating blossoming goosebumps that cover me completely.

The new ink is mixed to spread over my belly; I can't help the way I moan when the brush strokes from hipbone to hipbone, my skin feels hyperaware.

At times his brushstrokes are fierce and demanding, other times small and deeply concentrative to form all the pictures of him on me.

The drums make my body sway only for Odin to try to hold me still. I can't help the way my body naturally moves to the ancient rhythm of the music. It calls to me on a spiritual level.

Spine hits fur.

The shuffling colors of the air have me blink twice to believe what I am seeing.

"Odin, can you see the air?"

"No." He's concentrating, that's why he can't see what I'm seeing. I try not to look in the peripheral of my vision because she's there watching me.

Waiting patiently for me to say something. Her energy pulses around the particles of her body.

"The Moon's with us Odin." His strokes stop, he looks around not focussing where I am looking.

"Tell her I said hi." He mocks while she hones her twinkling eyes on him. He must feel something because he again stops to look around. I flash fang at her, the Moon who dares look at my half like that.

Our eyes lock, hold, and she pulls me to her. When I turn the shell of my body is laying on the ground while the particles of energy float behind us as we ascend to the top of the world where even the wind can't reach us anymore.

"Do you think you can defeat me?" There is no sound just a thinking thought that harbors itself into my head.

"I don't want to become you." Thinking my sound I have no real voice, her body pulses with the energy of life.

"You will one day; it can't be helped. It's in your Nature. Take what you can, it's who we are." Again the energy pulses in and out of the shape of a body.

"Who were you before you became our Moon?"

"I was like you once, flesh and bone." A hollow echo touches my soul; there is a ring of sadness to her thoughts.

"Who is the Night? I saw him reach out to you."

"My mate." Drifting sound waves out into the nothingness of space.

"Why is he not with you?"

"My sister won't let him go."

"Why can't you just take him like I'm here now with you?"

"Because this is not real. There are very few things strong enough to kill Wulfram."

"Is that the Night's name?"

"Yes," Her body's glow falters and flickers, dimming itself dull.

"Why is your mate not with you?"

"He marked my sister as his." Her light dims even more.

"Who is your sister?"

"Nature, my twin sister."

"Who is the oldest?"

"I am, she's second born."

"She hates me. She has been trying to turn my healers against me. Campaigning for a new Moon for centuries."

"Why doesn't your sister just take your spot?"

"I'm the Moon; there is no one stronger than me but my father - the creator of everything." The fluctuation of sound carries its tone in and out of our radius, it stretches itself in the vastness of space that goes on forever.

"Then how can I defeat you?" She's a god, how can gods be defeated.

Silence

"You will never defeat me." A rush of movement has me being thrown back down into the world, I brace for the impact, but there is none, just me opening my eyes.

A harsh intake of breath.

I'm laying against furs, the shadows still are dancing in obscene gestures now.

"I was with the Moon." Saying it out loud to Odin who stops his brush strokes.

"What did she have to say?"

"She told me that I would never defeat her."

"She must be worried then."

"Why would she be worried?"

"Only someone who is worried has to say things like that. She came to you. She's worried or else she would ignore you completely. Because she has nothing to worry about." Odin doesn't even look at me continuing to cover my canvas of skin completely. My whole upper body is done now, including most of my lower extremities.

My veins pulse when Odin opens my legs to paint the fleshy part of my thighs. He bends his head place a kiss on my belly.

I gasp out, grabbing his wrist. I'm too sensitive, the pulse of pleasure has a drop of blood come out of a bottom lip that I just a bit.

The smoothness of my skin is felt by the slide of his finger. Again he sets out to stain my skin in the canvas that mimics his art.

Closing my eyes, letting the drum beats attach themselves to my mind. It's easy just to lay still, listening to the sound that felt along the spine of my back.

More sips of that sulfuric tea are brought to my mouth layering the haziness of my mind until when I open my eyes again, Odin and I are facing each other.

Looking down at my body, I am a mirror image of what his flesh holds on the outer layer of skin. Bracelets have been attached to my wrists now, I can see them on my ankles.

We sit cross-legged, our knees touching.

Ever so delicate, Odin touches my fingers with his until our arms rise together. Hands meet hands.

Palms against palms.

Goosebumps, butterflies, a sudden gasp of breath has hot air rush out of lungs that are on fire.

"Look at me, Charlie." I try to focus on just him; the shadows are playing in the periphery, dancing to the rhythm of drums that seem just outside the tent.

Our fingers intertwine.

"Breathe, just breathe with me." He starts our breathing; it's only natural to follow the sound of him.

"Your eyes look like the green of an ancient forest, have I told you this? You smell of fertile soil that anything can grow in. Why do you think that is?" His greens overpower the shadows, the light is low, but his eyes burn with a Wildness that I can feel through my skin.

"You're my half, Charlie. That's why." A soft caress from his cheek against mine.

Our faces just inches apart, I could stick out my tongue to lick his bottom lip.

"Your smell has been of power, it burns my tongue at times and hurts my chest." His words brush over my mouth.

Lips against lips

Soft, gentle, but needing so much more...

A breathless hunger starts to consume our kiss; nails claw into the skin.

Tongue against tongue

Hands roam fluently in the language of my body. Squeezing my ass, he picks me up to straddle him. The chimes of small silver bells are hitting the casing of steel tinkles out as if windchimes are in the space we are sharing right now.

Body against body.

I'm wanting to have him burn just like I am burning for him.

Only him, only my half...

The curve of his neck is followed by my tongue; I shudder - he lets out an unprotected moan.

Fingers dig into my hips.

Blood pools deep, there is a saturating flooding need to become One with my half.

Lips curve around lips before he stops with a suddenness that I don't understand.

"I need to finish covering you." Odin's mouth against my lips, pressing his words into the space of my mouth. I swallow his breath down in gorging lungfuls of air.

"I don't want to stop." Kissing him again, I feel our connection almost like an extended slow pulsing hum.

Squeezing

Biting

Caressing

Swollen heavy breaths are what's heard now, the drums the low hum against lovers sounds.

Feasting mouth

Feasting hands

Feast of flesh.

Our bodies devour the other.

The fur hits my spine as Odin hovers over to lay himself flush.

Skin against skin.

A husky tremble from him smooths over my neck.

Smoke and musk mingle together.

There is a desperate need now for him, only him.

Only my half.

Primitives sounds growl from the center of Odin's chest. Deep guttural tones of noise that brings another flash of heat to scorch my skin painfully hot. He moves salaciously, confident and without hurry.

Chemistry ignites underneath his savage movements.

He shakes to the very marrow of his bones.

"Odin, please." A chant has started outside; I can hear the low notes above the racing of my heartbeat.

All of Odin's muscle tense, while mine tries to draw to me.

Primal instincts are swelling, surging themselves forward.

His head dips to mine.

The war of our breath fights the other against mouths that can't stop touching.

Carnivorous hands, greedy mouths.

Cold air rushes in as the light of day squits my eyes.

"Out!" Odin roars out, the flap of the tent is dropped instantly.

Vicious snarling has canines elongating, Odin's Wild fighting within to break the cocoon of skin.

A grunt, a groan, a flexion of pain runs the lenght of Odin's face.

Hard drums now saturate the air, the force shaking my chest.

Odin's musculature shifting, flexing, a jaw elongating. Ancient forest greens now consumed in the color of blood.

The internal structure of him is at War...A fist pounds the ground, a whimper from inside him as he pulls away to sit cross-legged. His head is bowed low - he exhales, inhales, exhales slower than the breath before. Hands that look strong and fierce start to rub his eyes that are shut tight.

Author's Note.

If anyone is interested in reading Borson and Bessa's story I have it on Radish as freemium. Chapters unlock after seven days.