Alma's Rite by Tyrynth

Her Rite had gone smoothly so far. As one of only five youths deemed by the shaman to be ready, she had been drugged and abandoned far into the winter wilderness, tasked solely with making it home alive. It was as much proof that they could pull their own weight in the village as it was proof to the totems that chose them that they were worthy. As testament to the tenacity and heartiness of her people, most did, and Alma was absolutely going to be one of them.When she awoke, she had been left with nothing but her winter clothing, a pound of the pemmican she had made per the Shaman’s instructions, an empty water skin, and a small knife. Even feeling the after-effects of the drugs, her body moved almost autonomously as she checked her supplies and her surroundings. As she stuffed snow into her waterskin, the cold helping her to focus, she realised that there was no sign of how she had arrived, or from which direction. The only foot prints were hers as she had stood and taken stock of the situation. Not that it mattered, she knew she was roughly a week south of her village, barring any unexpected disasters. The terrain was rough heading up the valley, but even in the dead of winter it was rich.

World assessed, she tucked the stuffed skin under her clothing to thaw and with a harsh crow of delight, the young girl began her trial.

The solitude of her travels was a nice break from her usual life. Her people were very tightly knit, but she had an independent streak a mile wide – one of the gifts she had inherited from her mother – and would often strike out alone to explore the wilderness or play with the village animals. Her people were open and accepting of her wandering. After all, they always needed scouts and hunters. The shaman also had an eye on her, so perhaps he would take her as his student after the trial.

Her people were accepting in many ways. They had after all accepted her mother when she had found her way to them. There had been no jealousy when the foreign woman who had so easily accepted their traditions had courted and won the heart of the chief’s son. They had welcomed her daughter, and unlike some other groups, had no issues with her being a half breed. When her mother had died when she was just a babe, her people stepped in and raised her like any other of their children, because to them, that is who she was.

They were also very open about mating. As long as all parties consented, there were very few limits on what was deemed acceptable. Clothing was always optional. Gender and age were largely unimportant. Masturbation was no different than any other bodily function. While uncommon, it wasn’t unheard of for the village animals to play a role either. Alma hadn’t yet chosen a partner for her first time though she knew it would be soon. She wasn’t entirely inexperienced. She had seen it happen many times in her short life, and she had tasted several of the men and women in the village. She knew she was ready, she just hadn’t found the right partner yet.

A week into her journey and she had made good progress. She had located a good campsite and built up a decent shelter against a natural cave. It had a natural chimney effect, drawing the smoke from her small fire up and out, while a careful arrangement of branches and snow kept the chill out. Inside she had more than enough room for two or three people, and it was warm enough that she could use her clothes as a blanket on her bed of pine boughs. Outside, she even had three rabbits smoking, their skins scraped clean and curing. She had already eaten the first, roasted over her camp fire. Full, relaxed, and fantastically alone, her fingers drifted south to work out another need.

She had been frustratingly close to the edge when the crying started. If she’d been home, or even just with another of the youths being tested, she might have tried to ignore it and finish, but not on her own. Not when they were so close to her camp. She was quickly dressed and cautiously stalked towards the source, her own needs momentarily abandoned.

The piteous sound rose from a coyote, the animal desperately trying to escape the frozen river it had fallen into. Coyotes could be dangerous, she knew. They also were not one of her villages common totems, but even so she could not just leave the animal to its fate. She knew the burning cold first hand, knew how terrifying that seemingly helpless battle could be. She didn’t hesitate as she hurried down the shallow ravine and stripped off her clothes.

She had been expecting it. It wasn’t the first time she’d been in freezing water before. Even so, the deadly cold drove the breath from her body like a fist to the gut. Still, she pushed on. The coyote luckily wasn’t far, but it took precious time to break a path to the beast. Below the treacherously thin shell of ice, the river was quick flowing, trying to drag her below with its numbing, burning chill.

As she neared the beast it turned to her and seemed to calm slightly. Or it was weakening from the frigid chill. Either way, she soon had one arm under its front chest , helping it stay above water as the two battled together back to shore. The whole ordeal had barely lasted a few minutes, but she was freezing straight to her bones. Despite spending who knows how much longer in the water, the coyote ended up almost carrying her to her clothes. She vigorously rubbed her hands and feet for a moment, but knew survival for them both lay in her shelter and as soon as she could stand she lead the beast there.

The shivering coyote was initially reluctant to follow her inside, but between the scent of smoking rabbit and the warmth that radiated from the opening his resistance was short lived. Once inside she sealed the entrance behind him and quickly stripped again, rubbing herself down vigorously by the fire, keeping a wary eye on the wild animal as they did their best to warm themselves.

Soon she was dry and… warmer, at least. With her own fears of frostbite and hypothermia allayed, she turned to her guest. With his thick winter coat soaked to the skin, he was taking much longer to dry out. Cautiously, she reached out to him, and was surprised when he made no effort to stop her from pressing her fingers into his coat. She gradually increased her efforts and was soon energetically scratching and rubbing water from the coyote’s fur and warming him with friction.

After ten minutes of her rough attention as well as the heat of the fire, his pelt — though still a tad damp — had fluffed up considerably. He seemed happier and more at ease as well, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. She shook his ruff playfully and had to fend off the large dog’s tongue as he lapped at her face. Giggling she pulled away. Both girl and coyote were fully warm again.

While the curious canine investigated his surroundings, she stepped back outside to check on her rabbits. They were coming along nicely, but she didn’t like the way the sky looked. The coyote had followed her out and she turned to him. “What do you think, storm coming?” For his part, he cocked his head at her before sniffing around her clearing. He lifted his leg against a rock and she decided to take care of her own call of nature before retrieving the rabbits, banking her smoking coals, and calling her companion into the shelter. It wasn’t long before they could hear the wind picking up outside, but they weren’t bothered. She spread her clothes over her bed of pine and two curled up together, drifting off to sleep.

Between her small fire, the insulating snow, and the two warm bodies the inside of her shelter had grown quite warm. At some point she had tossed the clothing she’d used as a blanket aside, exposing herself entirely to the air. She awoke to her new companion licking the sweat from her body, and giggled as his rough tongue tickled. She started to push the animal away when his long appendage dragged across one of her nipples, eliciting a soft moan. She’d never felt anything like that before. Her fingers had certainly never felt that good! Her push paused, he kept licking, the rough pad of his tongue unintentionally teasing her budding breasts. When he had finished cleaning one, she didn’t hesitate to offer her other, nipples taut with the arousing stimulation.

The scent of her growing arousal caught his attention. He licked down her chest, his large tongue making broad swipes as it worked over her belly unintentionally teasing her until he pressed his wet nose between her legs, making her gasp. She opened her legs for him, welcoming his rough tongue as it spread her lips and dragged across her little nub. She was panting with desire as her body heated up, much to their mutual delight. She looked down her body at the wild animal that was giving her so much pleasure and had her first orgasm at the sight of his pink tip extending from his thick sheath. Her hips moved of their own accord and she knew who her first mate was going to be. Her belly still shaking with the aftershocks and his continued licking, she rolled to her knees by the fire.

She raised her hips, shivering from anticipation as she offered herself to him. The coyote gave her flower another few licks, his rough tongue dragging her lips apart, before bounding onto her back. His powerful forelimbs pulled them together and whether by luck or the grace of Coyote himself, the chiseled tip of his malehood found her on the first thrust.

She gasped in surprise at the sudden penetration, and moaned as the first couple of inches of his still narrow shaft forcefully plunged into her. He wasn’t as thick as most of the men in her village that she had seen, but she knew he would only be getting bigger. Her lover wasted no time, his first shallow thrust followed by the fast, powerful hammering that she had seen the dogs demonstrate in her village.