07-16-2019, 09:36 AM
Like the hunter he is, Sinner arrives.
Shrouded in darkness, he steps from around a large oak tree with eyes that glow beneath his brows. A hellhound. Of course, he arrives in his most comfortable form. Glancing up at him, a coy smile spreads across her lips. When she sees him like this, she sees Erio. Born equine and yet prefers the cloak of a predator.
It seems like a lifetime time since Valdis last heard her name spoken from his tongue. Husky, clawing. It draws her attention immediately as she turns to face him, observing him underneath the canopy of their surroundings. ”Sinner,” she mutters, her voice barely above a whisper as he closes the distance between them slowly, confidently. Habit wants her to fold into him, but she hesitates. By doing so, her feet root themselves in place, reconsidering how easily they could fall into each other.
Litotes voice slithers across her thoughts, reminding her how Sinner never visited, never seemed to care for her abduction.
(“We are nothing,” she lied not to him, but to herself)
The most pungent deterrent smacks her across the face, solidifying her stands in front of Sinner. He, of course, remains cloaked in Mary’s scent. Another breeding, she assumes, but she suppresses her anger and instead reminds herself of the child growing in her own womb. It was strange to be underneath another man, but spite and envy are such ugly things. They clouded her judgment and made what would typically be awful into something desirable and passionate. Imagining how it would affect Sinner made it exciting.
”Long time no see,” she comments airily as her eyes dance briefly away from him onto the trees to her left when a branch snaps. What has always been an easy conversation now becomes a struggle. They are not in Sylva. The forest is no longer the hellhound’s domain. She is pregnant with another man’s child. He has naturally coupled with Mary again and again.
Valdis doesn’t want to express her contempt. It would be weakness.
And so she stretches for the only thing she can – their son. While she doesn’t call him over – she is still embarrassed, still angry – at least she says his name for the first time to the father, wondering if he at all cares. ”His name is Erio,” there’s no context under the assumption that Sinner will simply know; he always knows. Valdis’ voice is steady, strong even, when she states the boys name, but then she hushes and lowers her head slightly. ”He is like you,” a hellhound, she doesn’t add, ”but is weak. He will not be an heir.” Ashamed, she looks away as her thoughts try to blame and point fingers for their son’s shortcomings.
@[Sinner]
It won't let me reply with Valdis, sooo yeah
Shrouded in darkness, he steps from around a large oak tree with eyes that glow beneath his brows. A hellhound. Of course, he arrives in his most comfortable form. Glancing up at him, a coy smile spreads across her lips. When she sees him like this, she sees Erio. Born equine and yet prefers the cloak of a predator.
It seems like a lifetime time since Valdis last heard her name spoken from his tongue. Husky, clawing. It draws her attention immediately as she turns to face him, observing him underneath the canopy of their surroundings. ”Sinner,” she mutters, her voice barely above a whisper as he closes the distance between them slowly, confidently. Habit wants her to fold into him, but she hesitates. By doing so, her feet root themselves in place, reconsidering how easily they could fall into each other.
Litotes voice slithers across her thoughts, reminding her how Sinner never visited, never seemed to care for her abduction.
(“We are nothing,” she lied not to him, but to herself)
The most pungent deterrent smacks her across the face, solidifying her stands in front of Sinner. He, of course, remains cloaked in Mary’s scent. Another breeding, she assumes, but she suppresses her anger and instead reminds herself of the child growing in her own womb. It was strange to be underneath another man, but spite and envy are such ugly things. They clouded her judgment and made what would typically be awful into something desirable and passionate. Imagining how it would affect Sinner made it exciting.
”Long time no see,” she comments airily as her eyes dance briefly away from him onto the trees to her left when a branch snaps. What has always been an easy conversation now becomes a struggle. They are not in Sylva. The forest is no longer the hellhound’s domain. She is pregnant with another man’s child. He has naturally coupled with Mary again and again.
Valdis doesn’t want to express her contempt. It would be weakness.
And so she stretches for the only thing she can – their son. While she doesn’t call him over – she is still embarrassed, still angry – at least she says his name for the first time to the father, wondering if he at all cares. ”His name is Erio,” there’s no context under the assumption that Sinner will simply know; he always knows. Valdis’ voice is steady, strong even, when she states the boys name, but then she hushes and lowers her head slightly. ”He is like you,” a hellhound, she doesn’t add, ”but is weak. He will not be an heir.” Ashamed, she looks away as her thoughts try to blame and point fingers for their son’s shortcomings.
@[Sinner]
It won't let me reply with Valdis, sooo yeah