Strider, Mist, and Dodger all knew the part they had to play and when they met Koras’ gaze they knew it was time to begin. All three turned away from their leader and lowered themselves on their hands and feet, hindquarters raised as high as their legs would allow. Finally they all raised their tails, exposing themselves fully to their leader. Somberly, Koras approached Strider first.
The ritual was meant to enforce the roles of leader and subordinate, by supplicating themselves in this way they showed total submission. Exposing themselves fully they let the leader know they would trust him fully with all they were, putting themselves in his hands. Koras had a role to play in this as well, he was to accept the supplication and enforce it, letting all know his commands were law during the hunt.
Strider earned his name at an early age, his quick legs making him the fastest runner among the tribe. Those brown furred legs flexed as he pushed his toned rump upward, leading higher to his tail that pointed upwards to the moon. Koras reached between those muscled legs and grabbed hold of the wolf man’s testicles. All hunts began this way, by allowing the leader to handle their most vulnerable body part they showed their commitment to the hunt. Strider tensed as his reproductive organs were handled, but quickly relaxed. Koras gave a silent smile, knowing that Strider had the mental fortitude to not let this sensation get the best of him. Still he held on for a moment longer, compressing one of the balls between his finger and thumb gently. Strider tensed again, but did not allow any grunt or whine to escape his muzzle. Strider was ready.
Koras let go of the brown furred wolf’s scrotum, letting the testicles bounce back to their resting position. Strider stayed in his position, as he was not to move until ordered otherwise. Next was Mist, a master of stealth. His dark fur almost gave a blue color. Between his raised legs were a pair of testicles unusually large for a wolf. Koras reached with one hand, wrapping his fingers around one of the blue wolf’s balls. He squeezed with as much force as he had with Strider. Mist let out a whine of discomfort. With that Koras let out a low growl. With that he spoke more than words ever could.
‘What is this weakness? If you are unfit for the hunt then leave!’
Mist clamped his mouth shut and held firm, holding his position and requesting to stay. Still in a low growl the gray wolf used his other hand to grab hold of the other half of Mist’s manhood. He held both firm, not squeezing hard enough to cause too much pain as to impede hunting abilities, but hard enough to put the blue wolf’s resolve to the test. Mist stayed still as an oak, and equally as silent. After a moment Koras let go, approving the stealth master’s grit.
Lastly was Dodger, Koras’ very own son. Dodger earned his name when he managed to escape several attacks that would have been fatal if they landed. Koras thanked the gods for each time his son remained unharmed. While Koras was a mesh of scars his son was unblemished, either by divine favor or masterful instinct. Still, while on the hunt all that mattered was the pack, not family. He reached and grabbed hold of his testicles the same as the other members. He did his best to remain impartial not wanting to show any favoritism due to family connections, but still he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe knowing that the balls in his hand now would be responsible for giving him grandchildren someday. He almost forgot to give them a squeeze as he held them. When his mind returned to the present he fulfilled his duty, giving the sensitive organs a harsh compression. Much to his pride Dodger stayed silent.
With the ritual complete Koras gestured for his pack mates to rise. All three stood upright, manhoods sore but resolves strong. Without a word Koras turned and his pack followed, ready to obey without question and bring honor and pride to the tribe
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