Disclaimer: I do not own Skinwalkers nor its characters. They belong to LGF, After Dark, and whoever else screwed the movie up.
Note: Early Embracers fic, written while sleep-deprived. Partly inspired by the song, "Silver Bullet" (acoustic version) by Hawthorne Heights. Also, written with the theory that Naturalists could change at will, so perhaps slightly AU.
It always was curious to the she-wolf, his favorite nickname for her. It had amused Zo the first time he'd heard it - but a glare had shut him up. After that he never called her by her nickname if the others were in earshot. The nickname that was strangely endearing while making her worried and annoyed at the same time. Part compliment, part insult.
But then, that was their way, wasn't it? Push and pull, pleasure and pain, love and loathing.
"Come," he whispered in her ear, tugging her deeper into the woods and away from Zo and Grenier. He let go once she obeyed, knowing she would follow him to the ends of the earth. Though she might protest all the way.
The full moon was high and bright and lit up the way. The swaying branches and shaking leaves cast dancing shadows on the ground as the breeze picked up. It was cool and crisp; she wondered if his wolf felt as childishly frisky as she did.
They were deep in the woods now. He glanced over his shoulder with glowing eyes. He smirked faintly. "Keep up, my silver bullet. I know you can," he teased.
She leapt over a tree trunk to land right behind him. Her irritation written all over her face, but the closeness of them got to her. She softened.
That was when he started moving again.
Obediently, the she-wolf followed her mate deep into the wood. Affectionately, the male teased his mate now and then. Their feet were silent on the ground, their clothes discarded at some point so their skin could bask in the cool air and silver light; it was as sweet as a cleansing bath. The skinwalkers were soon running, their skin covered in thick, beautiful pelts. She nipped at his heels, and he snapped back.
Play became something more intense, pleasure spreading through them. Fur gave way to skin once more, adrenaline faded into afterglow.
"Sleep," he seemed to command, and she laid her head against his chest. He nuzzled the top of her head and kissed her hair. His fingers stroked the skin of her back.
She kissed his left breast, right where his heartbeat could be heard.
He sighed silently, his mouth against her hair. "Shot through the heart with a silver bullet," he murmured. He didn't seem to mind.
And she didn't feel so annoyed.