"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
06-19-2019, 11:24 PM (This post was last modified: 07-02-2019, 10:08 AM by Sinner.)
Sochi
darling, you're wild-eyed, empty, and tongue-tied maybe you need me or maybe you don't
Sochi did not expect to be the one stolen away, and she finds no joy in the sentence.
She is still unsure about her youngest boy and where he has been; she still does not know the full extent of the war’s damage in Loess or their next move. She has barely recovered from her fight with the mysterious panther who smelled of Tephra but did not seem overly attached to it. The scars still sit pink and fresh on her coat, puckered flesh and the way it looks like it could easily tear at the seams.
But she does not fear the autumn forest.
And she does not fear its hellhound leader.
The man who would call himself king.
So she slips from Loess, ignoring the knots in her stomach when she thinks of her lost son, and makes her way to the neighboring territory. She slips into her feline form, feeling the earth as it moves between her paws and shakes the dust from her coat. She is not subtle when she is liking this, but she feels the most like herself, her silver eyes bleeding into orange, her vibrant coat nearly matching the leaves of the trees.
When she gets to the border, she curls her lip in disgust and then sits on the edge of it.
She did not directly disobey, but she certainly had no intention of waltzing her way into the center of the kingdom for him to find her. Instead, she lifts a paw and begins to clean herself idly, her thick tail twitching behind her and her ear gently twitching as she listens to the sounds fo those around her.
If she is anything but languid in this moment, anything but alert, it does not show.
If she feels anything but mild annoyance at her circumstances, she says nothing.
playing the slow rooms, howling at half moons if you are a Queen then, honey, I am a wolf
@[Sinner]
I was less than graceful, I was not kind
be out watching other lovers lose their spine
A hunger that lives within their own darkness, controlling their every thought and action.
He knows the darkness that lives within him. Every demon that hides within his darkness is a face he has seen. He knows them each by name, their deepest desires, and the nature of their birth.
These demons were the ones that had been implemented into him. Manifested from the darkest of thoughts from his creators. Driven by only one nature, only one purpose.
These were the demons that had kept him a prisoner. Chained and branded as a slave to the bidding of hell itself. These were the demons he had come face-to-face and destroy himself. These were the demons he had to kill within himself in order to find his own salvation, his own freedom. Demons that were now his own, a darkness he controlled, their purpose he gave them.
He was his own master now.
The hunger within him was different though. It was feral beyond his own understanding. As a hellion, he could not understand its heathen nature. What drove its instinct he could never truly understand. The hunger’s ferocious and barbaric nature was too powerful. It had a strength that was overwhelming, a spirit that could not be tamed.
It used its own strength to control him. Taking every thought and action and making him a slave again. He could not always control the irrefutable feelings it filled him with. The craving for flesh and blood compelled him. The desire to want more than he had. The determination to achieve his goals without consideration for others.
Every part of the hunger fueled him. Giving him a drive, a purpose to achieve beyond what he was cable of. It was the hunger that would always control him. A monster could never truly be free of its true nature.
One of them had come—Ophanim—but he expected another to arrive soon. If the so-called tigress named Sochi did not, well, it would not come without deep consequences. His hunger as of late grew even more. The challenge had been accepted by the dragon-king, but the tension between Loess and Sylva still burned like the wildfire within Tephra.
It was a wildfire that burned within the hellhound’s own darkness. A fire that the hunger brewed with its power and the invisible chains that bounded him. He would eventually have all that he desired.
The autumn winds bring the scent of the tiger to the hellhound. It fills him with satisfaction to finally know the Loessian has arrived within the autumn forest. He does not wait long to make his way from the heart of the territory to border of the forest—it is there he finds Sochi.
“Good girl,” he says with a wolfish grin that grows slowly from ear to ear, “You finally made it here.” He moves towards her, paws silently padding across the autumn forest floor. The hound’s eyes glisten as he overlooks the tigress. He licks his lips softly before meeting Sochi’s own gaze. “I thought I was going to have to drag you here myself,” he says with slight annoyance. However, he imagines the scene would have played out very well when Castile saw him dragging his beloved away from Loess. “Then again, maybe you should have stayed longer.” His eyes gleam with mischief as he closes the barrier between them.
darling, you're wild-eyed, empty, and tongue-tied maybe you need me or maybe you don't
Sochi is well acquainted with her own darkness. She has grappled her demons, seen them face-to-face while chewing the heart out of a mare she thought a devil. She has known the depth of her own tolerance for the unsavory, learned that she was to live by her own rules and her own alone. So she does not frighten when the hellhound emerges from the shadows. She doesn’t shiver or bend or do anything but lift her feline lips to reveal her incisors, the pink of her tongue visible, her eyes narrowed.
“I’d like to see you try,” she growls lightly, her voice husky and rough, a sound distinctly feminine even despite the way it rumbles on the end. She knows the feeling that rides electric on the air now; she knows the way that this man must feel while promoting chaos. She knows he would be tasting the air, just waiting for a lick of her fear, and she refuses to give it to him, refuses to be easy prey.
Instead, she lifts herself to her feet, massive paws sinking into the earth.
“I’d recommend keeping a safe distance.” She feels her adrenaline in her veins, that instinctual feeling of knowing that this meeting was not something rote. He had other plans, other intentions, and the longer that she watched the smirk growing on his wolfish mouth, the more than she didn’t trust it.
“I don’t have quite the stomach for dog meat,” her tail flicks behind her as her languid smile grows wide, a bold, reckless move for a woman feeling like the ground was moving beneath her. “But I’d be willing to force it down if it meant ripping it from you limb by limb. Don’t tempt me, mutt.”
Her stomach tightens, both in anticipation and caution, and she ignores it.
If she was to live within this godforsaken forest, he’d at least know who he was dealing with.
playing the slow rooms, howling at half moons if you are a Queen then, honey, I am a wolf
@[Sinner]
I was less than graceful, I was not kind
be out watching other lovers lose their spine
He doesn’t quake with fear at the sound of her warning. The hound’s smile widens slightly at her challenge instead. It only encouraged him to continue, to push a little further.
The dark hellhound continues to close the distance as she lifts herself from her previous resting position. His eyes continue to gleam with mischief as she throws another warning at his way. “Where is the fun in being safe?” He laughs softly in response. The hound liked to dance on the edge of danger. It was all a game to him. The more dangerous the game, the better it was.
Sinner moves to the right, slowly starting to circle her. He cannot take his eyes off her, especially when those large paws of hers were almost within reach to strike at him. But it was more than just worrying about being swat by Sochi. The scent of the tigress filled his nostrils. Her scent was sweet and bold—almost too welcoming for him.
He licks his lips lightly, tasting the air. “I think you are the one tempting me,” he growls softly in a tasteful manner. “There is just something so intoxicating when a lady makes it a bit challenging.” He says, making his way around her from the back now. “Something so desirable. Something so delicious.” Sinner licks his lips again, feeling them go dry. The hound’s eyes fill with obvious lust now.
Slowly, he encircles from behind her. He continues to keep a distance from her, but crossing over the line of safety is tempting. The hound’s body is being fueled by temptations with every inhale of her scent. It didn’t help that he no longer had Valdis around to play with either. His moments of playing games had gone stale. Sochi only encouraged him to play one of these games, and it made him want her even more with every word and breath she took.
“Would it be wrong for me to tell you how nice you smell right now?” He chuckles softly through his wolfish smirk as he comes around on the other side of her, but he stops this time, lingering to the left of her. Sinner takes a step forward, cautiously. He keeps his glowing gaze on the tigress in case she decides to make a bold move towards him. But his next step is taken without caution. His lustful nature and desire to get closer to her overcome him.
He had to have her.
Now.
Sinner steps over the barrier he dared not cross over earlier. There was no safety line he would fear crossing. Sochi’s bold attempt to keep him away was useless. The hound would have what he wanted. He always got what he wanted in the end.
“You smell so very sweet,” he licks his lips, feeling the saliva fill his mouth. The hellhound can feel the warmth of the tigress as he gets closer to her. He is just out of her reach now. Sochi could easily tackle him, bite him, or hit him. But he doesn’t trust that she will. It would be a huge mistake if she did otherwise.
darling, you're wild-eyed, empty, and tongue-tied maybe you need me or maybe you don't
It is difficult to focus only on this situation when her mind is splintered in so many pieces.
There are parts of her that have never left Loess, that have never stopped wondering and worrying about where her son has gone. There are parts of her that are curled next to Castile, that are breathing in the spice of him, in the comfort that only his brimstone and flames can bring. She has to drag herself back into the here and now, has to reminder herself that she needs to be present—needs to be sharp.
He licks his lips and she pulls hers back, the growl deepening in her chest.
“I will eat your heart, mutt,” she finally spits out as he intrudes into her space and she feels every hair stand on edge, the rest of it all beginning to fade away as she zeroes in on this moment. He is large and there is something otherworldly about him—something more like Castile and less like her.
Still, she does not plan on going down without a fight.
She curls around herself to keep him in her line of vision as much as she can, her tail flicking behind her, ears barely twitching as she studies all of him. “I will watch Castile burn down your forest and I will be there to rip your throat out.” He takes a step back and her usually languid face is suddenly alive with fury, the lines of it harsh, her feline eyes electric. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
Sochi can still feel the wounds that threaten to open up across her chest and down her back.
She can feel the fear for her son beating below the surface.
She grows reckless and, in that second, she loses. She lunges for him, jaws snapping, and the soft ground gives out under her paws. She rolls and loses sight of him in the process, landing as her equine self.
She heaves herself up, shaking the dirt from her eyes, trying to find where he had gone.
playing the slow rooms, howling at half moons if you are a Queen then, honey, I am a wolf
@[Sinner]
I was less than graceful, I was not kind
be out watching other lovers lose their spine
07-13-2019, 02:40 PM (This post was last modified: 07-13-2019, 04:32 PM by Sinner.)
there is but one rule hunt or be hunted
Sinner laughs at her threats. They were nothing to him. just throwing rocks at a wall that would not crumble.
He watches with satisfaction as she is filled with fury. A fury he wishes to continue to ignite. To watch it grow and set fire to the whole world.
She moves with him, following him and catching every move he makes. He dances on a fine line between life and death. But there is only life on either side of him. He pushes beyond the limits, crossing over the line—the barrier that separates them.
Her eyes are filled with fury now. A fury he has never quiet seen before. “Here kitty, kitty,” he coos softly with the touch of desire at the end of each word.
His eyes are bright with desire as she grows reckless. A wildness she cannot control. The wild she does not know like he does. It is the wild he gives into. An instinct he caves into.
Sochi lunges at him, but he quickly dodges, watching as the ground gives underneath her. The tigress rolls away from him in the process, shifting into her equine form.
Sinner slips quickly, shifting away his preferred form into his dark bay equine one. The moment was right. Right where he had wanted her since he laid eyes on the tigress.
While Sochi is distracted, shaking the dirt from her eyes, he slips to the back of the smoky black mare. “Don’t worry,” he says softly, rubbing his dark bay muzzle across her rump, “I’m right here.” He doesn’t hesitate now, wasting no time before it would be too late for Sochi to retreat away. Sinner mounts the black mare, bulking down on her to keep her still until the deed is done.
The bay stallion climbs down, and slips to the right side of Sochi. He runs his dark lips across her back to her withers. A smirk crosses over her lips. “Now that wasn’t so bad was it?” He chuckles softly. “Take care of the little one for me,” he says before turning away and shifting back into his hellhound form. Sinner then disappears into the autumn forest.