<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Dancing+Script|Pacifico" rel="stylesheet"><style type="text/css">.DVC_container {position: relative;z-index: 1;width: 500px;height: 990px;padding: 15px;background: #1B1B1B url('https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/3a/57/f5/3a57f5737062052a28cf11e813ca7144.jpg') no-repeat center top;border: 0px solid #fff;box-shadow: 0 0 1em #000;}.DVC_container1 {position: relative;z-index: 5;width: 450px;height: 445px;padding: 2px;background: transparent;border-left: 4px solid #F1D3B9;border-right: 4px solid #F1D3B9;margin-top: 520px;border-radius: 50px;}.DVC_container1 p {margin: 0;}.DVC_message {text-align: justify;font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif;padding: 0px;color: #D5B199;width: 400px;height: 350px;overflow: auto;}.DVC_message::-webkit-scrollbar {width: 1px;background: transparent;}.DVC_name {text-align: center;font: 40px 'Dancing Script', cursive;color: #EDE0D0;padding: 0px;text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #fff;}.DVC_quote {text-align: center;font: 14px 'Pacifico', cursive;color: #EDE0D0;padding: 10px 0;}</style><center><div class="DVC_container"><div class="DVC_container1"><p class="DVC_name">-Diorae-</p><p class="DVC_message">The sight of the oasis makes her almost forget about him, like she’s momentarily unaware of his presence behind her. The clear blue water sparkles in the bright sunlight and the vegetation around the water just gently sways in the soft breeze. Just like that an eerie and kind of prairie like wind, turns into a nice summerlike breeze. It’s simply beautiful and enough to make her forget about the gray one.
Until he materialises from the surface of the very same oasis that has her so smitten. Like a god he rises from the water and the droplets that roll of his coat twinkle in the sunlight. He’s beautiful and terrifying at once. After all, Marigold was sure that he had been following behind her. Blinking her hazel eyes she stares at him for a moment, then drops her head guilt ridden. She had failed to go back to his den like she was supposed to.
Or wasn’t she? For the first time since their encounter, he addresses her. Tells her she has done well, that she had survived. Not only her, but all those around her too. Speaking of which, how had they gotten here? As Marigold wonders about that, one of them turns into dust and that what is left of her, gets carried away by the same gentle breeze Marigold had enjoyed just moments ago. Okay, that proves it, he ís terrifying. But also dominant, she remembers herself as her eyes search his gray form again: she’s all ears to what he has to tell.
An offer that simply sounds too good to be true. Her eyes dip lower, to watch the water of the oasis, the very ‘ground’ hé was standing on. Slowly her gaze travels up again, to watch him speak about paradise. Thus far life hadn’t been too kind to her, and the promise of paradise, well, even if she would only get a glimpse it would be worth it. He was right. She would do anything for the chance. And she would follow him like a puppy on an invisible leash.
Even if she had a price to pay. Not that she was able to voice out that what she was ‘willing’ to sacrifice. Marigold is silent as ever and although watching the oasis with more interest, she does not yet step forward. It wasn’t her place to take the initiative, both in going first and deciding what her toll was going to be. She didn’t have the right to make requests, wasn’t it the role of the dominant to pick the way for the submissive?
It shouldn’t be her choice if she should give up a sense, hearing for example. Though the thought terrified her. Marigold was already unable to speak, and other than lonely she had never really had a real disadvantage. Losing her hearing, sight, sense of smell or even touch, it would immobilize her greatly. But at the other side, hadn’t she already given the puppeteer her strings? And she sure as hell didn’t want pain, her bleeding leg and the scorched shoulder already brought her close to the edge of what she could bear. However, she would, for him. If he thought that was the right price to pay for her.
He could take an ear, an eye, her tail. She wouldn’t object against giving a leg too, but that would make life incredibly hard. A horse without four legs isn’t a horse. And thus, when a couple of others have paid their toll and went into the oasis before her, she steps up – still limping – to him. With a lowered head she offers herself to him, tense and fearful of what might happen. One had turned into ash, another lost her eye, and even a testicle and uterus had been taken.
And Marigold? The toll she has to pay is..? Something she waits for in silence. Her eyes fall closed, afraid that if she would open them that she would back away from him. That wouldn’t be right. Avoiding the whole facing thing by closing her eyes wasn’t either, but it was at least easier. And she did want that peek of paradise.
Because of her closed eyes, she doesn’t see his mouth deforming, shaping into the muzzle of a wolf. Horse teeth wouldn’t snap through bones, and that was exactly where he was going for. Not an eye, not an ear, but instead her tail. If she could, she would’ve screamed her lungs out, crying out in agony and pain. The tears roll down her cheeks, but other than sharp intakes of breath, she’s silent.
It’s too much. The pain, the fear, Marigold is no longer able to keep herself in place. Desperately she tries to get away, kicking the ground, trying to turn around, anything to have his teeth let go of her. But instead she causes herself more harm, and with the horrible sound of bones breaking and skin tearing, she find herself free.
Blood streams down her golden and white legs, pooling in a puddle on the ground. Now turned around, she’s staring at him in shock, muscles tense and trembling. For a moment her ears lie flat against her skull, but then she drops her head. Swallowing the thick lump in her throat she realises that he had had every right to do so. However, that didn’t make it any easier to forget the pain, and humility, nor the bloody bundle of flesh, skin, bones and tail that lies on the ground between them.
He probably thought so too. For a while, he’s silent. As if he’s waiting for her to fully relax and submit, even after he had just cooped her tail. She does. Her ears flop sideways and slowly she relaxes, but not till the point she gives up her alertness. It must have been enough. ”You may go.” He doesn’t say more, and Marigold doesn’t need more.
The closer she gets to the water, the more she can see the beautiful and alluring colors. It looks bottomless, but the others hadn’t seemed to be drowning. Thus Marigold continues, eager to get away, eager to get it over. The next thing she’s aware of is the biting water on her wounds, making them burn and if she could, she probably would have voiced out her agony. Though not salty, the water stings. Her legs, shoulder, nose and most of all, the stomp that was her tail. The deeper she sinks, the more it hurts, and Marigold wants to go back to the surface, but instead the only thing that goes up are some bubbles of air.
When she can breathe again, she eagerly sucks in the fresh air. For a moment she’s oblivious to her surroundings, as she takes time to catch her breath and try to mentally process what has happened. Longclaw, Hells’ gate, her cell, then her escape and face of whit the wolves and the oasis. Hé had been there too and decided on the toll she had to pay. Oh right. Her tail.
Swallowing dryly – afraid of what she might find – Marigold slowly turns her head, bending her neck so she’s able to watch behind her. The signal to move her tail is sent by her brain, through her nerves, but there is no tail able to answer. A short, blonde bob sways a little, but no longer the thick blonde tail she used to have. And worst of all, it left her utterly exposed. The pain, however, is gone. Leaving humiliation and shame behind.
Tears instantly flood her eyes, and she doesn’t even want to think of what others would think of her now. No, not others. Longclaw. He had said she was supposed to come back, but what, what if he wouldn’t want her anymore? She shudders, trying to stay positive and push the thought away. Marigold latches on to the first distraction that’s offered to her.
The happy chirping of birds is carried towards her by a warm breeze. It’s actually rather pleasant, both the chirping and the breeze. Slowly Marigold lifts her head, blinking her hazel eyes a few times as the sight is too good to be true. A small smile starts to tug at the corners of her lips as she finds herself laying down the shade of a couple of trees and in front of her green flowy hills reach as far as her eyes can see. It’s beautiful.
To her left, there is a forest. Not a dark one, with big eerie trees, but deciduous trees with huge green leaves. The kind that carries birds and other small animals on their branches. It offers a perfect contrast to the meadow in front of her, complimenting and adding to each other. Curious to see what else was out there, Marigold pushes herself off the ground. Standing up she shakes, sending some dust and leaves down to the ground again. It still fell rather odd without her tail, wanting to sway it and only remembering she couldn’t the moment she didn’t feel the movement. No tail flicking against her hindlegs or flank, no breeze caused by it. And flies would have free reign. Marigold deems that as something to worry about later.
A low hill is her destination, the sun warming her back. It keeps the smile on her face, but also makes her realise how dry her throat was. From the tip of the hill she should be able to spot water nearby. Such a paradise would have to have a perfect spring, a small lake or a nice flowy river. She’s sad to discover it missing. What was a paradise without water?
As if Mother Nature heard her, the land shakes and trembles. She can feel the vibration, startling her and tensing her up. To the right of the hill the ground crumbles, disappears into a hole, only to have water flow up. Like paradise’s own fresh water spring. Marigold keeps watching the phenomenon, awestruck and excited. Slowly the lake keeps filling and filling, until a small stream starts to flow southwards. It makes its way all the way to the forest, and continue beyond what Marigold can see.
Now overlooking the land again she’s amazed by how perfect it all was. Just like he had promised and Marigold can no longer worry about the toll she had paid. It wasn’t like there was someone around to see how he had humiliated her. Loneliness hits her with full power, like a slap in the face. For a moment it had looked like it was perfect. Fresh green lands, an inviting forest on the left, a fresh water spring and a soft breeze to cool them all down. Also, there are no shadows and without shadows nothing can be lurking. For the very first time since Diorae – she had been Diorae then – had come back to Beqanna, Marigold doesn’t feel the eyes burning in her back. It’s peaceful, but lonely. So very lonely.
Longclaw. He had promised to always look after her, to keep her from harm, but he wasn’t here. Here she wouldn’t be harmed by others or by creatures, but the loneliness is so much more than that. It eats her from inside out, making her feel uneasy and not cared for. Tears well up in her hazel eyes again and she closes them in an attempt to stop them from rolling down her cheeks. She wishes he was here.
And on that clue, she suddenly can feel his hot breath on her shoulder. Eyes widen and she snorts surprised, spinning around to face him. What, how did this happen, how was this possible? Her very own paradise. Shyly Marigold dips her head, submitting herself to him. Not because there was no-one else, not because she was afraid of being alone. She wanted to. She peeks up to him, flustered and dancing a little on her legs as she moves her weight from side to side. What would he think of her cooped tail? And the new brand that now covers his? Paradise would crumble if he would walk away.
For a moment she doesn’t dare to look at him, simply because she’s afraid of what she would find. ”Marigold.” She doesn’t look up, ears nervously flicking back and forth. ”Oh Marigold!” he calls again, but this time Longclaw is closer. She shudders as she feels his breath on her neck, just behind her ear as he whispers softly in her ear. The jolts travel all down her spine and instinctively she want so sway her tail, only ending up ruffling the bob. Marigold holds her breath and her eyes squeeze shut at the same time. It would break her to see him walk away.
He doesn’t. Instead his hot breath now ghosts down her neck, to her shoulder, where he lingers for a moment. She releases the breath with a soft sigh, her golden and white head now lowering further as she gives in. This was paradise. And she wouldn’t have to live there on her own.
Days pass and turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. Miraculously the season doesn’t change. Spring stays and keeps the field lush and green, the water fresh and a bit cold. Bird never stop their songs. The spring also holds Marigold in its grasp, keeping her close to Longclaws’s side as her raging hormones long for him and his touch. But all good things come to an end.
Hé comes for her. Marigold can feel his presence before she sees him. When she does, he’s standing a meter of ten away. He doesn’t come closer, nor does he speak. He doesn’t have to. She knows what he wants. Her head dips and her smile, which has been on her lips all these months, fades away.
Slowly her gaze travels to where Longclaw is standing, now a bit further away. Too far for her liking, but perhaps that’s the best. How much she wants to go to him, how much she wants to be at his side. But somewhere deep down she knows this isn’t Longclaw. And the dark god was very much real.
With a lump in her throat she watches the tear in her paradise, growing darker and more intense the longer she looks at it. Then back to hím, pausing a moment before she can will her legs to move. He, once again, held her strings, and when he steps through the crack, Marigold follows. She does glance back though, and wishes she hadn’t. Her paradise crumbles, but the first thing to go is the image of Longclaw. Before she’s entirely through the portal, it’s gone already.
She doesn’t fight him. Back in Hell, his very own paradise, she follows him back to her cell. Marigold doesn’t look up, ignoring the eyes of those watching, even if they send shivers down her spine. This time the cell gets locked behind her, and Marigold finds herself pressed up against the back, her glutes pushed up in the corner as she silently cries.</p><p class="DVC_quote">A beautiful face is a mute recommendation.</p></div></center>
OOC:
As 'toll' Carnage coupes her tail. Leaving her with a short bob like this.
EDIT:
Permission from Cassi to fix grammar mistakes past deadline.
Until he materialises from the surface of the very same oasis that has her so smitten. Like a god he rises from the water and the droplets that roll of his coat twinkle in the sunlight. He’s beautiful and terrifying at once. After all, Marigold was sure that he had been following behind her. Blinking her hazel eyes she stares at him for a moment, then drops her head guilt ridden. She had failed to go back to his den like she was supposed to.
Or wasn’t she? For the first time since their encounter, he addresses her. Tells her she has done well, that she had survived. Not only her, but all those around her too. Speaking of which, how had they gotten here? As Marigold wonders about that, one of them turns into dust and that what is left of her, gets carried away by the same gentle breeze Marigold had enjoyed just moments ago. Okay, that proves it, he ís terrifying. But also dominant, she remembers herself as her eyes search his gray form again: she’s all ears to what he has to tell.
An offer that simply sounds too good to be true. Her eyes dip lower, to watch the water of the oasis, the very ‘ground’ hé was standing on. Slowly her gaze travels up again, to watch him speak about paradise. Thus far life hadn’t been too kind to her, and the promise of paradise, well, even if she would only get a glimpse it would be worth it. He was right. She would do anything for the chance. And she would follow him like a puppy on an invisible leash.
Even if she had a price to pay. Not that she was able to voice out that what she was ‘willing’ to sacrifice. Marigold is silent as ever and although watching the oasis with more interest, she does not yet step forward. It wasn’t her place to take the initiative, both in going first and deciding what her toll was going to be. She didn’t have the right to make requests, wasn’t it the role of the dominant to pick the way for the submissive?
It shouldn’t be her choice if she should give up a sense, hearing for example. Though the thought terrified her. Marigold was already unable to speak, and other than lonely she had never really had a real disadvantage. Losing her hearing, sight, sense of smell or even touch, it would immobilize her greatly. But at the other side, hadn’t she already given the puppeteer her strings? And she sure as hell didn’t want pain, her bleeding leg and the scorched shoulder already brought her close to the edge of what she could bear. However, she would, for him. If he thought that was the right price to pay for her.
He could take an ear, an eye, her tail. She wouldn’t object against giving a leg too, but that would make life incredibly hard. A horse without four legs isn’t a horse. And thus, when a couple of others have paid their toll and went into the oasis before her, she steps up – still limping – to him. With a lowered head she offers herself to him, tense and fearful of what might happen. One had turned into ash, another lost her eye, and even a testicle and uterus had been taken.
And Marigold? The toll she has to pay is..? Something she waits for in silence. Her eyes fall closed, afraid that if she would open them that she would back away from him. That wouldn’t be right. Avoiding the whole facing thing by closing her eyes wasn’t either, but it was at least easier. And she did want that peek of paradise.
Because of her closed eyes, she doesn’t see his mouth deforming, shaping into the muzzle of a wolf. Horse teeth wouldn’t snap through bones, and that was exactly where he was going for. Not an eye, not an ear, but instead her tail. If she could, she would’ve screamed her lungs out, crying out in agony and pain. The tears roll down her cheeks, but other than sharp intakes of breath, she’s silent.
It’s too much. The pain, the fear, Marigold is no longer able to keep herself in place. Desperately she tries to get away, kicking the ground, trying to turn around, anything to have his teeth let go of her. But instead she causes herself more harm, and with the horrible sound of bones breaking and skin tearing, she find herself free.
Blood streams down her golden and white legs, pooling in a puddle on the ground. Now turned around, she’s staring at him in shock, muscles tense and trembling. For a moment her ears lie flat against her skull, but then she drops her head. Swallowing the thick lump in her throat she realises that he had had every right to do so. However, that didn’t make it any easier to forget the pain, and humility, nor the bloody bundle of flesh, skin, bones and tail that lies on the ground between them.
He probably thought so too. For a while, he’s silent. As if he’s waiting for her to fully relax and submit, even after he had just cooped her tail. She does. Her ears flop sideways and slowly she relaxes, but not till the point she gives up her alertness. It must have been enough. ”You may go.” He doesn’t say more, and Marigold doesn’t need more.
The closer she gets to the water, the more she can see the beautiful and alluring colors. It looks bottomless, but the others hadn’t seemed to be drowning. Thus Marigold continues, eager to get away, eager to get it over. The next thing she’s aware of is the biting water on her wounds, making them burn and if she could, she probably would have voiced out her agony. Though not salty, the water stings. Her legs, shoulder, nose and most of all, the stomp that was her tail. The deeper she sinks, the more it hurts, and Marigold wants to go back to the surface, but instead the only thing that goes up are some bubbles of air.
When she can breathe again, she eagerly sucks in the fresh air. For a moment she’s oblivious to her surroundings, as she takes time to catch her breath and try to mentally process what has happened. Longclaw, Hells’ gate, her cell, then her escape and face of whit the wolves and the oasis. Hé had been there too and decided on the toll she had to pay. Oh right. Her tail.
Swallowing dryly – afraid of what she might find – Marigold slowly turns her head, bending her neck so she’s able to watch behind her. The signal to move her tail is sent by her brain, through her nerves, but there is no tail able to answer. A short, blonde bob sways a little, but no longer the thick blonde tail she used to have. And worst of all, it left her utterly exposed. The pain, however, is gone. Leaving humiliation and shame behind.
Tears instantly flood her eyes, and she doesn’t even want to think of what others would think of her now. No, not others. Longclaw. He had said she was supposed to come back, but what, what if he wouldn’t want her anymore? She shudders, trying to stay positive and push the thought away. Marigold latches on to the first distraction that’s offered to her.
The happy chirping of birds is carried towards her by a warm breeze. It’s actually rather pleasant, both the chirping and the breeze. Slowly Marigold lifts her head, blinking her hazel eyes a few times as the sight is too good to be true. A small smile starts to tug at the corners of her lips as she finds herself laying down the shade of a couple of trees and in front of her green flowy hills reach as far as her eyes can see. It’s beautiful.
To her left, there is a forest. Not a dark one, with big eerie trees, but deciduous trees with huge green leaves. The kind that carries birds and other small animals on their branches. It offers a perfect contrast to the meadow in front of her, complimenting and adding to each other. Curious to see what else was out there, Marigold pushes herself off the ground. Standing up she shakes, sending some dust and leaves down to the ground again. It still fell rather odd without her tail, wanting to sway it and only remembering she couldn’t the moment she didn’t feel the movement. No tail flicking against her hindlegs or flank, no breeze caused by it. And flies would have free reign. Marigold deems that as something to worry about later.
A low hill is her destination, the sun warming her back. It keeps the smile on her face, but also makes her realise how dry her throat was. From the tip of the hill she should be able to spot water nearby. Such a paradise would have to have a perfect spring, a small lake or a nice flowy river. She’s sad to discover it missing. What was a paradise without water?
As if Mother Nature heard her, the land shakes and trembles. She can feel the vibration, startling her and tensing her up. To the right of the hill the ground crumbles, disappears into a hole, only to have water flow up. Like paradise’s own fresh water spring. Marigold keeps watching the phenomenon, awestruck and excited. Slowly the lake keeps filling and filling, until a small stream starts to flow southwards. It makes its way all the way to the forest, and continue beyond what Marigold can see.
Now overlooking the land again she’s amazed by how perfect it all was. Just like he had promised and Marigold can no longer worry about the toll she had paid. It wasn’t like there was someone around to see how he had humiliated her. Loneliness hits her with full power, like a slap in the face. For a moment it had looked like it was perfect. Fresh green lands, an inviting forest on the left, a fresh water spring and a soft breeze to cool them all down. Also, there are no shadows and without shadows nothing can be lurking. For the very first time since Diorae – she had been Diorae then – had come back to Beqanna, Marigold doesn’t feel the eyes burning in her back. It’s peaceful, but lonely. So very lonely.
Longclaw. He had promised to always look after her, to keep her from harm, but he wasn’t here. Here she wouldn’t be harmed by others or by creatures, but the loneliness is so much more than that. It eats her from inside out, making her feel uneasy and not cared for. Tears well up in her hazel eyes again and she closes them in an attempt to stop them from rolling down her cheeks. She wishes he was here.
And on that clue, she suddenly can feel his hot breath on her shoulder. Eyes widen and she snorts surprised, spinning around to face him. What, how did this happen, how was this possible? Her very own paradise. Shyly Marigold dips her head, submitting herself to him. Not because there was no-one else, not because she was afraid of being alone. She wanted to. She peeks up to him, flustered and dancing a little on her legs as she moves her weight from side to side. What would he think of her cooped tail? And the new brand that now covers his? Paradise would crumble if he would walk away.
For a moment she doesn’t dare to look at him, simply because she’s afraid of what she would find. ”Marigold.” She doesn’t look up, ears nervously flicking back and forth. ”Oh Marigold!” he calls again, but this time Longclaw is closer. She shudders as she feels his breath on her neck, just behind her ear as he whispers softly in her ear. The jolts travel all down her spine and instinctively she want so sway her tail, only ending up ruffling the bob. Marigold holds her breath and her eyes squeeze shut at the same time. It would break her to see him walk away.
He doesn’t. Instead his hot breath now ghosts down her neck, to her shoulder, where he lingers for a moment. She releases the breath with a soft sigh, her golden and white head now lowering further as she gives in. This was paradise. And she wouldn’t have to live there on her own.
Days pass and turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. Miraculously the season doesn’t change. Spring stays and keeps the field lush and green, the water fresh and a bit cold. Bird never stop their songs. The spring also holds Marigold in its grasp, keeping her close to Longclaws’s side as her raging hormones long for him and his touch. But all good things come to an end.
Hé comes for her. Marigold can feel his presence before she sees him. When she does, he’s standing a meter of ten away. He doesn’t come closer, nor does he speak. He doesn’t have to. She knows what he wants. Her head dips and her smile, which has been on her lips all these months, fades away.
Slowly her gaze travels to where Longclaw is standing, now a bit further away. Too far for her liking, but perhaps that’s the best. How much she wants to go to him, how much she wants to be at his side. But somewhere deep down she knows this isn’t Longclaw. And the dark god was very much real.
With a lump in her throat she watches the tear in her paradise, growing darker and more intense the longer she looks at it. Then back to hím, pausing a moment before she can will her legs to move. He, once again, held her strings, and when he steps through the crack, Marigold follows. She does glance back though, and wishes she hadn’t. Her paradise crumbles, but the first thing to go is the image of Longclaw. Before she’s entirely through the portal, it’s gone already.
She doesn’t fight him. Back in Hell, his very own paradise, she follows him back to her cell. Marigold doesn’t look up, ignoring the eyes of those watching, even if they send shivers down her spine. This time the cell gets locked behind her, and Marigold finds herself pressed up against the back, her glutes pushed up in the corner as she silently cries.</p><p class="DVC_quote">A beautiful face is a mute recommendation.</p></div></center>
OOC:
As 'toll' Carnage coupes her tail. Leaving her with a short bob like this.
EDIT:
Permission from Cassi to fix grammar mistakes past deadline.