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Feb 5, 2012 4:40:46 GMT -5
Post by Trina on Feb 5, 2012 4:40:46 GMT -5
Volaxis "How am I ever gonna know peace? How will I ever see the light through the trees? I wanna burn down everything we begun. I wanna kill and eat my young."
Volaxis so loathed not knowing where he was going.
It was an inconvenient pet peeve for a nomadic animal to have, granted. What lone wolf ever wanders with direction? But still, having blindly navigated the thickly brambled paths of the Schreien Forest, the great surly beast was beginning to tire of having to pick paths at random. For far too long, he’d been wandering aimlessly, and his endeavours had been fruitless. For once, he wanted conviction. He longed to have a plan; something to put ignite the fire in his belly. Frankly, he was bored, and only by following his feverish desire for adventure could that thirst be quenched.
Naturally, intellectual sustenance came in the form of company; and in these lands, he’d already passed over the fading trails left by several of his kind. This was a handsome landscape, brimming with life and packed with foliage, and he knew that it wasn’t unlikely several packs inhabited the surrounding woodlands. He had, after all, passed several territory markers en route. But in order for him to establish himself anywhere, he needed to know where the hell he was- and the obvious solution to that problem was to make his way to the big-ass rock perched precariously in the sky. Thus Volaxis glided silkily forwards, ears perked and rotating rapidly as the sounds of the surrounding wildlife assailed his senses. A smorgasboard of scents tantalized him with the knowledge that this place was certainly not devoid of life- predator and prey alike. That meant there were other wolves here- and that meant entertainment.
Volaxis wasn’t above allowing himself to slot into a pack for convenience’s sake. After all, for all his megalomaniacal tendencies, he was surprisingly well-equipped to deal with authority. He wasn’t above swallowing his pride and submitting to quell the fury of some deluded alpha, if only to secure easy food and a safe place to sleep. He would, ultimately, prefer to lead a pack himself, as pretending to be subservient to a charlatan could be awfully tiring. For the moment, however, he was content to play charades.
The path he tread cleared abruptly into the broad plateau that was the precipice of the Hängen Mesa, and the fierce blast of the dusky sun assaulted his vision, the broad expanse of the land swimming into view. He stepped quietly to the very edge of the great rock with a solemn expression, somewhat humbled by the promise of sordid excitement awaiting him in the inky swirl of greens and slate greys below. With a rush of spontaneity, and an instinctive salute to the onset of nighttime, Volaxis raised his head and erupted into a deep and throaty howl which reverberated with sinister clarity across the intervening distance, a sombre announcement of his presence in the wake of the incoming dark.
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Feb 5, 2012 16:17:08 GMT -5
Post by Dakki on Feb 5, 2012 16:17:08 GMT -5
Othello The females gait was smooth as she glided over the forest floor, a delicate frown on her maw. She had been in hiding for quite some time, growing tired of these every present masks she forced herself to wear. If she did not, then what would become of her? Her thoughts flickered to her past, how her very personality made her father sick. Sick enough to sell her off to anyone who would take her. Even her first master could not tame her. She was a wild flower indeed, you could pluck it and manipulate it, but it always came back the same. That was she, she was Othello. A male name for a female wolf; simply to please her fathers need for a male pup. Ignorant bastard.
Othello did not know in which direction she was heading. It was pleasant to be outside once more, walking around these lands she called home. She had not been re-claimed since her old master cast her off. She could consider herself a free roamer, yet at the same time she could not. The title of 'Sklavin' would always haunt her, always linger on her lithe shoulders. It was her cross to bare. She did miss being in the company of others, even if it meant putting on one of her many masks. She could never let anyone see the true wolf beneath them; one who's mood was not concrete. They were as timid as the winds, always changing without a moments notice. Trouble would arise as soon as her moods switched, so she became a whole new being. It scared her, how easily she could slide into a new persona. It should not be that easy for her to do so. Maybe that was her gift... her gift to hide her curse.
A haunting song reached her audits, causing them to swivel to pick up the wolf's where abouts. He seemed close, the masculinity obvious in his howl. Should she go and find him? Her tail swished as she thought, her steps pausing. She did long for a conversation with another, it had been so long. But what wolf could she be for this one? Darkness was rolling in, and she did not know what this one sought. Maybe she could present herself and see how this one reacted, then slipped into the mask that best fit his reaction. Yes, that seemed to be a good plan. Sudden anger flashed though her as she thought of changing just to please a male, but she forced it down. She would not flare out before even reaching this brute. She closed her eyes, taking many breaths of the cool nights air before moving on. She threw her poker face on, with a slightly crooked smile on her maw. Maybe she could have fun with this one.
Othello sauntered forward, her cinnamon pelt glittering in the moon light. Her eyes glittered in the darkness, the soft light of the moon reflecting off of them. She could smell the male soon, and knew that he would soon come into view. Pushing out of the undergrowth she saw him standing there on the very tip of the highest rock. She paused for a moment, allowing her quirked smile grow slightly. "Why hello there," she said, her voice very feminine as she walked slowly up to the male. She shifted close to the edge, her eyes scanning the horizon. "Beautiful night, is it not sir?" she asked, letting her gaze travel over to him lazily. Yes, maybe a bit of fun could be had tonight.
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Feb 5, 2012 21:13:02 GMT -5
Post by Trina on Feb 5, 2012 21:13:02 GMT -5
Volaxis "How am I ever gonna know peace? How will I ever see the light through the trees? I wanna burn down everything we begun. I wanna kill and eat my young."
It was strange how even the most antisocial wolves appeared on a whim at the sound of a lone howl. Volaxis himself shared the compulsion; in a land where their kind banded together simply to survive, the sound of one creature alone was savagely intriguing. What creature would so boldly announce their presence without purpose, pinpointing their location for all to see, to exploit? If he were traversing claimed lands, he would not have been so foolish, but his senses told him this area was virtually terra incognita, and that only loners like he would be wandering at this lonely twilight hour.
So, he wasn’t all too surprised when the vaguest whispers of movement heralded arrival. His ears flicked abruptly backwards, and he inhaled deeply the tendrils of scent that betrayed the presence of another wolf. A female, at that. With that revelation, Volaxis slowly turned his great ashen head towards her, just to hear the soft purr of her voice fill the cavernous silence.
‘Why, hello there. Beautiful night, is it not sir?’
Volaxis – like most vicious, sexual, and physically imposing predators – was a visual creature. First impressions were gravely important, especially when it was a female. So, naturally, he took a moment to survey her. The first and most noticeable difference between them was sheer size. Volaxis scaled forty inches, and she did not scrape thirty. He was a giant amongst his kind, and she was a delicate little creature, with her dusky cinnamon pelt and slim build… and that sultry effeminate purr. It was all pleasing to him, not to mention she’d called him ‘sir,’ without prompting, which caused the beast inside him to snarl pleasantly.
He lazily rose from his position to his full height, and turned to face her, silently assertive but not overtly threatening. She had come to him willingly, had she not, like a moth to a flame? If he had seen her passing by, he would have likely pursued her and attempted to subdue her, but she appeared more than amiable, and he was more than willing to play into her coy little game.
“It is a nice night, indeed,” he responded smoothly in his baritone growl, stepping forward, slowly and deliberately reducing the space between them. “It is better now, however, with company. What is your name, girl?” he paused for a moment, now just metres from her, fierce amber eyes boring curiously into hers. His demeanour was still not entirely threatening, but certainly dominating; he didn’t even try to mask it. She was small, she was pretty, unclaimed, and alone. In his eyes, she was virtually already his. “More to the point, why are you alone?” He allowed himself to flash a blithe smirk to break the tension, a rather likeable one- his face was quite pleasant and handsome and was in stark contrast to the vicious, manipulative soul behind it. “It’s not every day one meets a winsome little she-wolf wandering around so boldly in the dead of night, unaccompanied... where anything could happen.”
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Feb 5, 2012 22:16:25 GMT -5
Post by Dakki on Feb 5, 2012 22:16:25 GMT -5
Othello She was not trying to hide her appearance, it was totally unlike the mask she wore on her face. Sultry, that is what she was tonight. In the bold moonlight she felt empowered, throwing her all into this one. It was not often that she placed on an act for the fun of it, most of the time it was to hide what was underneath. She was ugly on the inside, but beautiful on the out. Looks could be rather deceiving, which is why she was on the alert. This brute was a handsome one, she could see that now as his audits swung back to listen to her approach. Yes, she was on her guard, but was putting every ounce of her femininity on her sleeve.
His head turned to greet her, and she drunk in his scent. It was heady, as most Male's were, but he was also his own scent. No others mixed within his natural odor, meaning that he too was unclaimed. This is when this game could get more dangerous, with no one but their own hearts and souls to keep them company. Nothing was said after her words, allowing her more time to take in the sheer size of him. From a distance he looked large, but up close she felt rather small. Puffing up her chest she stood tall, her tail moving in a lazy wag.
Othello felt his eyes travel around her being, much like her own eyes were doing to his. They were taking each other in, piece by piece. She could now picture his haunting, masculine form with her eyes closed. She did so now, once again taking in his scent. She opened them slowly, blinking a few times as their eyes met. She would enjoy this, and not let her emotions take control. No, tonight was her night. But she had to be careful, the moonlight could bring more than just boldness.
When he stood to his full height and walked towards her, Othello stood as tall as she could reach. She would not let this male intimidate her, her eyes glimmering as she held her head high. He may be larger, but she had her gender on her side. She lowered her lids and looked up at the brute from under her lashes, blinking slowly. A fatal game she was playing, yet it excited her. Her blood boiled in her veins, noticing that he was being assertive right from the get go. Ah, a Dom he was, she could tell right from the get go. She was a Sklavin herself, but not now. Right now she was an all female loner, the cards were evenly stacked at the moment.
His voice was like a rumbling stallion when he spoke, tethered by only a short leash. Othello place one paw slight in front of the other, her left shoulder popping out more than the latter. She looked more dainty and appealing this way. She was stoking the fire with more coals, but she was having the time of her life. Yes, all this practice with masks was paying off for once in her life. He asked of her name, saying it was better with a companion this night. Sauntering even closer to him, her ears perked forward to their fullest height. "Certainly is, with a handsome lord like yourself. And the name's Othello," she said, turning to run her tail under his chin. She walked around him in a slow circle, allowing her tail to run along his flanks. By the time he asked another question she was at his head again, her rump falling to meet the rock below her. Curling her tail around her paws she looked up at him, her eyes calculating. Why was she here alone? "I have no where else to be."
His grin made her crooked smile flash, the left higher than the right. This was her characters smile, this smile belonged to the mask. Gone was the shy femme, and here was to replace it was this one full of feminine appeals. His next words caused a delicate shiver to run down her spine. Anything indeed. For instance, her playing this cunning deck of cards. "And it is not every day that a femme runs across a lord such as yourself with no harem of ladies following him around. Lucky night indeed," she said, her chin rising.
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Feb 6, 2012 11:31:16 GMT -5
Post by Trina on Feb 6, 2012 11:31:16 GMT -5
Volaxis
Volaxis felt his mouth twitch into an acquiescing grin as he watched her gracefully rise up to her full height, and the almost unperceivable quivering of her muscles as she positioned herself ever so carefully so that she emphasized every soft curve of her fragile frame. So she was a smart little minx; because for those inherently dainty creatures who could not depend on size or might, other means became necessary. Seduction; easily nature’s most irresistibly effective weapon. And despite her effortlessly casual front and the way she so coyly gazed up at him with from underneath long wistful lashes, Volaxis did not miss the way her breathing increased ever so slightly and the swift shiver down her spine at his approach. Quivering with apprehension, perhaps? So she should; for all she knew her life depended on her ability to be alluring, while Volaxis needed only to rely on the blood pounding relentlessly through his muscles and the stoic reliability of his mighty thudding heart.
And seduction, of all things, could be a terribly double-edged sword. He knew it just as well as any; what, after all, would stop him from simply lunging forth to take up the nape of her neck in his sharp fangs, render her powerless, and have his way with her? Out here, all alone, nothing could help her. Nevertheless, he was perversely interested in exactly how far she was willing to go to hold her own. He was not, after all, sure of her alignment; but whether she be dominant or submissive, Volaxis was quietly confident she’d be the latter by the end of their encounter.
“Certainly is, with a handsome lord like yourself. And the name's Othello.” His demeanour stiffened slightly as she began to circle him, and he resisted the urge to fall into step with her in order to keep her in sight; sheer survival instincts. The compulsion swiftly dissipated as the soft brush of her tail underneath the line of his jaw and her scent and a lusty shiver ran down his spine, and he reclined passively back upon his haunches with a malignant fierceness in his eyes. Ahhh, females. So soft and warm and lovely and fragile; but he was rather ambivalent towards them sometimes. He often found himself torn between the desire to seduce and care for them like a master would a pet, and the desire to throw them down and tear and scratch and thrash them savagely until he heard them squeal for reprieve. He wanted to please, to discipline, to feel the delicate malleability of their flesh and the tickle of their fur, and simultaneously to dominate, to consume them like a cat with a cornered mouse. Then she came to sit before him, and he appraised her coolly as if weighing up exactly where her motives might lie. Every creature was playing at their own game, after all. It was just a matter of whether or not her intentions were contrary to his.
“I have no where else to be." ”That’s a pity,” he drawled quietly with a devious grin. “This is an awfully big place. Filled with a lot of fucked up things. Who, pray tell, would come to your rescue should something happen to you out here? I suppose nobody would even realise you were gone.” He paused and let the silence extend darkly between them before finally adding in almost a voice that was almost a patronising snarl, “a pity, indeed.” Then abruptly he slid forward onto his feet like an uncoiling spring and turned parallel to her, the sinister tone of his sharp eyes casting back across the landscape beyond the Mesa behind them. The swirling dark void of the forest seemed an impenetrable fortress in the wake of the fast-dying rays of the sun, and the pallid rays of the moon cast a strange pallor on Volaxis’s slate-blue coat, creating the illusion that his fur was far darker and ghostlier than it was in reality.
"And it is not every day that a femme runs across a lord such as yourself with no harem of ladies following him around. Lucky night indeed," A genuine smile broke across his face and his eyes flickered briefly back to hers in appreciation of her bold, even shameless flattery. It was an eerie contrast to his vaguely threatening words just moments prior. The two of them weren’t all too different in the way they operated. Othello constructed careful alter-egos behind which to hide, to appease others as a social construct. Similarly, Volaxis wielded his charisma, size and likeability to fool his peers into thinking he was a creature of valor, and honour- even humility. Nothing could be further from the truth. Though indeed charismatic, Volaxis had long since abandoned his sense of moral conduct and succumbed to the carnal pleasures of sin.
“You are too kind, Othello. Intrepidly so. Tell me; how long have you been in this area? Not long, I assume. After all, had any males been privy to your charm, we would not be having this conversation.” Very slowly, he turned again, and stepped towards her. The sun’s last light was gone now, leaving them in the vivid embrace of the stars. His golden eyes appeared colourless as he inched closer to her in the dark, the moon casting a shadow that enveloped the line of his muzzle in baleful darkness and stole away any hint of his expression. His breathing was a malefic metronome in the black night. “Because if memory serves me correct, this is an empiristic land with a strictly enforced hierarchy. Am I right?” His questions were innocent enough, and his deep voice a pleasant purr, but the double meaning behind his words were obvious enough. He vaguely suspected already that she was among the subordinate ranks of Ravensbrück’s brutal social ladder. But still; the sadist in him revelled at the thought of making her admit it.
ooc: sorry if this is extended inane rambling, it's 2.30am here and i'm off my tits on sleepyness :c
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Feb 6, 2012 21:05:01 GMT -5
Post by Dakki on Feb 6, 2012 21:05:01 GMT -5
Othello Othello was very aware of her body, how to shape it to look many different types. Tonight, tonight she was all female. Her lids blinked slowly, every movement deliberate and thought through. He was so much bigger than her, and she needed to make herself stand out some how. Why not use this gift of hers? Her gift to cover her curse. Those words echoed in her head, bouncing around for so long.
She saw that his gray blue body was stiff when she first stood, only pausing her in her actions for a few heartbeats. As soon as her tail rubbed against his flank, he relaxed into her. Othello let out a purring coo, his shiver extending from his body to her tail, causing her body to convulse along with his. Pin pricks stabbed at her paws as she circled him, her tail flicking ever so slightly to rub her soft fur along his. There scents swirled into one, causing a vortex of smells that assaulted her nostrils. She breathed in there essence, let it linger in her nares. When she settled in front of him, he felt his appraising eyes on her, his nose lifting slightly towards the sky. What was he doing? Was he trying to figure her out? She was a rather confusing femme and could switch persona's on a moments notice. Her facades are what saved her from being shunned for her sickness.
His voice was the definition of masculine, a rumbling low octave that got directly under her skin. When the swear word rolled off his tongue her audits flashes back against her head, her small frame flinching delicately. "It is certainly not proper to swear in the presents of a lady, dear sir," she said with a wink and a flash of her teeth. His words took a moment to skin in, and when they did her eyes opened wide. She paused for a heartbeat, then a wicked smile spread her lips. Her teeth flashed in the moonlight, her tail flickering behind her. "I can protect myself rather well, my lord. Besides," she said, sliding up until her chest pressed against his. Her head lifted towards the heavens, her eyes meeting his. "I've got you here, do I not?" Othello's voice was a whisper, her breath tickling the fur under his chin. When she backed up, his growled words reached her. "Pray tell, why is that a pity?" Her head tilted gracefully to the side, her eyes batting seductively.
The male came and sat beside her, her fur standing on edge as it brushed against his. His fragrance wafted up towards her, overpowering all her senses. Her heart pounded in her chest, fluttering like an excited bird. The beams of moonlight danced across their pelt, slate gray mixing with her cinnamon. As his eyes scanned across the horizon, she took advantage of the opportunity to scan his form once more. The muscles rippled beneath his coat, his breath stirring his sides and causing them to brush into her side further. Their coats were almost as one, and she looked down at where they met. A ragged breath drew out of her maw, her heart skipping a few times as their eyes met once again.
A truthful smile was on his mouth, and Othello couldn't help but return the gesture. What was he smiling at her for? Was it her last comment. Then she realized, she did not know his name. She had been calling him 'sir' and 'lord', although she was certain that those words were fuel to the fire between them. "Am I permitted to know your name, sir?" She asked, her paw slipping from its original hold to rest atop of his. Her smile grew more crooked, raising higher of the left. Her claws gently raked across his paw and up his leg before she returned it, a wink tossed in for good measure.
“You are too kind, Othello. Intrepidly so. Tell me; how long have you been in this area? Not long, I assume. After all, had any males been privy to your charm, we would not be having this conversation.”
A pout replaced the smile on her face, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Why now that is not fair. I choose where I wish to roam, and who I wish to converse with. Not every male I cross by is allowed to witness my so called 'charm'. In fact, you are the first in a moon," The darkness was complete now, feeding Othello with more courage, and a tiny stirring of fear. His coat was dark, causing his maw to appear without expression. At his next sentence her breath hitched in her throat. There was a hierarchy, and she was at the bottom. Would she ever tell this male? Hell no. "There is in fact, viscount. But not all wolves follow the rules of these lands. There are those who appose it, and those who linger on the side lines. I am guessing that you have not been here for long, otherwise these facts would be known to you. Pray tell, sir, where do you stand?" Her voice was soft, with a hint of challenge in her voice. The darkness made her bold, as she sauntered closer to him. "Are you here to claim your own piece of Ravensbruck?"
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Feb 9, 2012 2:04:50 GMT -5
Post by Trina on Feb 9, 2012 2:04:50 GMT -5
Volaxis
Volaxis’s keen senses avariciously lavished all she offered; her soft feminine scent, the sight of her lithe leggy frame, and the sensuous ripple of her cinnamon fur against his. It wasn’t something that was new to him, after all; in his four years he’d both seduced, and subdued, a number of females. But they were always fleeting days in time, memories he savoured but swiftly discarded. For all his life, Volaxis had wandered. He wasn’t above catching up lovers in his wake to brusquely consume and throw away, but until recently, the thought of a harem or even a pack had never seemed like a viable possibility.
But now that he was in this wide fertile land brimming with potential conquests and fledgling packs, the idea was becoming all the more tantalizing. It wasn’t an incredibly difficult feat, after all. Volaxis was a large, healthy and intelligent male in his prime. But to be an alpha? He knew better than anybody the fundamental flaws in his moral fabric. He was a depraved, selfish, manipulative spirit by his very nature, and attempting to simultaneously appease an entire pack, whilst securing a large territory, was a daunting task, one he was not entirely sure he could accomplish without… for lack of a better phrase… breaking a few necks. But if anybody was up to the task of manipulation and subjugation on a large scale, it was inarguably he.
“It is certainly not proper to swear in the presence of a lady, dear sir.” Volaxis shot her a derisive glance as she winked and cocked one eyebrow, his demeanour almost playful – mocking. “Perhaps it isn’t proper to be worried about trivial matters like language in a place like this, Othello. Far better I am here to offend you saying ‘fuck’ than some other male to offend you with the reality of it, wouldn’t you agree?” His words were quiet, silky, and his body language utterly unthreatening – but the implications behind his words were silently foreboding.
“I can protect myself rather well, my lord. Besides, I've got you here, do I not? Pray tell, why is that a pity?" Volaxis locked his penetrating golden eyes on hers for one moment, his expression incomprehensible but calculating, always calculating. Then he let out a tenuous sigh, silky and theatrical, and moved off his haunches onto his feet like a slowly unravelling spring as she began to speak again. He’d maintained his passive demeanour for long enough. "Am I permitted to know your name, sir?"
“I’m flattered by your confidence. You trust my integrity without even knowing my name; which is Volaxis, if you will. But you are quite right; you have me here, and me alone. Tell me, does that make you feel safe?” He was moving now, slinking forward, with an effortless grace that defied his gratuitous size. He held his head low, the arch of his shoulderblades bulging up through the hackles that were now prickling viciously down his neck, muscles vacillating like the wheels of some great and terrible machine. Just as she had playfully circled him before, he circled her now, but if she had been seductive and enticing, he was utterly alarming; and when his flesh touched hers, it was rough and covetous. He longed to spring upon her, to force her to defy him with her little needle-sharp teeth, to bludgeon her with his body, to hold her until she ceased to struggle, to restrain, repress, subdue, defeat, to fuck, to dominate. These thoughts surged through his brain like a savagely undulating torrent, but with the air of a creature who had long had to battle with such dark desires, he reigned himself in without so much as a betraying twitch. Then finally he stepped lithely to be parallel with her head, sharp fangs glistening in the eerie moonlight as he pressed close to her, teeth clipping her ear to add in a husky whisper, “It is perilously unwise to trust a stranger.”
Then, like a switch had flipped, he stepped back fluidly with a pleasantly winsome half-smile on his handsome visage, the archetypical charming gentleman, as if the entire exchange had never happened, and reclined jovially back onto his haunches. "There is in fact, viscount. But not all wolves follow the rules of these lands. There are those who appose it, and those who linger on the side lines. I am guessing that you have not been here for long, otherwise these facts would be known to you. Pray tell, sir, where do you stand?" Ah, ‘but not all wolves follow the rules of these lands.’ The little silver-tongued vixen certainly knew how to spin her words, but that implied that she at least did not agree with the role she’d been burdened with; which, he speculated, was probably a subordinate one.
“Yes, you are correct, I have not been here very long. I am up here simply to get a better idea of the lay of the land, in fact,” he responded truthfully, eyes flickering briefly beyond the Mesa to the sprawling landscape, but always aware of her movements. An electric ripple surged down to his loins as she shuffled closer with a provocative purr. "Are you here to claim your own piece of Ravensbruck?" Ahh, she was oh so tantalizingly animated. Her bold, dauntless disposition was a rarity; he was far too used to intimidated, flighty, polite, boring females. They weren’t much fun at all. They broke down far too easily. ”I might just,” he answered ambiguously with a speculative cock of his head. “I have been past a few territories on my way here, but I’ve yet to meet their inhabitants. Any suggestions, Othello?” his voice simmered down into a baritone drawl, “I wouldn’t mind paying somebody a visit and asking them to kindly vacate their land. The hostilities are half the fun. Perhaps you’d accompany me,” he murmured, his last words more statement than question, and his eyes burning ardently in stark contrast to his rigidly controlled expression.
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Feb 9, 2012 3:06:14 GMT -5
Post by Dakki on Feb 9, 2012 3:06:14 GMT -5
Othello She could feel that his eyes were on her at all times, could see their gleam in the soft beams of moonlight. He was watching her, really looking at her. It empowered her, gave her even more confidence then the dead rays of the sun did. She was her own woman at this moment, and nothing could stop her. She became so much more aware of herself, to the very tip of her fur. All sensations were heightened in the dark, exciting the cinnamon wolf. Even though she was a Sklavin, this large brute knew nothing of her or these lands. There was a point in her favor, she held more knowledge than he about there surroundings. She knew every nook and cranny of the place, something that she had taught herself while being an unclaimed slave. She acted very much like a free roamer, no one could tell the difference. She was to strong willed to be someone's bitch.
The thought of being unclaimed drew her minds to the packs that inhabited these lands. Did she ever want to join one? Yes, she did want to. There was a fear of having to hide behind her masks at all times, but she was getting use to the act. Did she want to join as a slave? Hell to the no. There was no way that she would take up that demeaning position by will, unless she wanted to serve under them. Her eyes rested on the male, eying him up and down. She wouldn't mind being a slave under him, he seemed very similar to her. His moods seemed to switch without warning as well, but he was rather in control of his emotions. He did not hide behind a facade as she did, but he was pretty darn close. Poker face counted as a mask.
His playful look shoved her back to reality, her thoughts scattering about her. When he wanted to, this male was a very sexy wolf. He was so smoldering with all the right looks, and his sheer size. No... she certainly wouldn't mind being under him... Shaking her head, she focused on his maw as words spilled out past his lips. Once again his voice was soft, but she could hear the underlying meaning in his words. This one was full of mind tricks, was he not. A smile beamed across her face, her eye winking at him. "Well now, I never said that I was a lady, was I? No, I am not your average bitch, my lord," she cooed, her tail swishing back and forth at her words. If he wanted to play mind games, have at it. Othello was wicked when it came to a challenge, she wouldn't back down. Courage flowed though her blood, making her stand as tall as she possibly could.
His mood switched, and her eyes blinking quickly in surprise. She mulled over his words for a moment, shivering slightly as he stalked around her. Her own lips pulled back as she bared his teeth at him, her hackles raising as her ears lay flat against her skull. His touch was not comforting, but she pushed back with her softness and femininity. Hell yeah she could play back. Nothing could taunt her out of this state, she had so much practice. Nothing could make her slip, not even as his teeth grazed her ear. Well, a lusty shiver did rock her form, but that was not in her control! A soft growl pushed between her teeth, then turned into a soft laugh as her fur lay flat. "Well Master Volaxis, I never said I trusted you. Before this, that word never passed my lips. And again I never said I felt safe, I was simply stating that I had you," she gently maneuvered so that her own lips were by her ear, and she was thankful for his lowered head. Her teeth grazed across the audit, although in a much more sexual way than his had been to her. "You need to stop placing words in my mouth. Although you do make me feel safe, sir, because I believe that the two of us are more similar then you care to admit."
She backed up as he did, falling silent for a while as his quite... happy face. He was a strange one... that was for sure. Othello laughed softly, her rump connecting with the earth once more. She was glad that the moon was providing enough light to see him by, otherwise she would miss that comic expression on his face. She wasn't kidding when she said that this night could be fun for her, for it was proving to be rather entertaining. Othello's tail tip flicked a few times, her eyes looking past the male and at the lands below them. These lands certainly were beautiful, and what she wouldn't give to be a major part of them. She did want to join a pack, but holding a rank with way more power than a slave. She was not the dirt that the title suggested she was, she was much more above that stature.
“Yes, you are correct, I have not been here very long. I am up here simply to get a better idea of the lay of the land, in fact,”
Othello's head nodded, her eyes focusing on Volaxis once again. "This certainly is a vantage point, you can see most of the lands from here," She knew these lands like the back of her paw, many moons had she spent wandering them, avoiding most pack lands. She knew all the perfect hunting spots, and the best places to hide. Those came in handy when running from Dominor's who wanted to claim her.
As she shimmed up to him, she listened carefully listened to her words. She loved how she was driving him insane, she could tell that she was. While he was speaking she absentmindedly drew a paw up and ran it up and down his chest, a low, soft whine emitting from her mouth. An impish smile spread her lips, and finally she responded to him, not backing up or giving him any space. "Well, I have heard that the alpha Einheit Alpha Phantom has been absent for quite some time. His lands are not the kindest, and is one of the smaller ones. The land is in the center of all pack lands though, so you would have the advantage of having quick access to their lands. The most steady supply of food is fish, easy enough to catch and always there. It would be the easiest land to claim, you wouldn't have much of a fight there," she said, looking straight up into his eyes. "I would be honored to accompany you, Lord Volaxis," she purred, running her tongue across the expansion of his chest. Slowly she slipped back from him, but only a few paw steps back. Her breath was still tickling the hairs on his chest.
"If I am to be one of your members, you have to make your mark on me." Othello's voice was silky smooth, her voice daring as she glanced up at the male. Her breath hitched slightly in her throat as a delicate shudder trailed across her spine. Let him intemperate that in any way he pleased...
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