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this is your kingdom, this is your crown; ruan - bright - 07-04-2017 with her sweetened breath and her tongue so mean bright RE: this is your kingdom, this is your crown; ruan - Ruan - 07-11-2017 the taigan He’d run himself weary again. Not as much as he should have, but perhaps it was enough for now. He needed more, though. Needed to burn this off even as his sweat turned to a cold sleet along his icy back and sides, slipping down his cold legs to puddle at his feet.Something… changed. Something was suddenly different, suddenly there when it hadn’t been before. His head turned, and he saw her only for a blink before she was gone. Hot air expelled from his lungs in a quiet gasp, a soft grunt, as she touched his hip, his shoulder. The contact fueled everything he was trying to subdue, ignited it suddenly brighter and her lips wandered to his neck, then along the melting ice of his spine. His breaths came shallow, but he held still, wary and waiting. He meant to wonder if she was a teleporter, or something more, but his mind was tugged away from the thoughts of caution. Either way, something about her felt like danger. His ice-blue eyes pinned to her as she rounded him, as she gave him only an instant to see the flash of a wicked smile before she was in his head, and then his bones were bending and snapping, body shifting. More than a teleporter. But too late now. He choked out a cry, rage and pain both screaming in his heart. He knew the shape he was taking, recognized it as easily as she had from his past, felt the familiar tug of fur slowly spilling from his thick coat, the slope of his back and strong shoulders. There was pain and heartache in his eyes as he blinked, trying not to see the image of his wife at his side, hunting with him. At his side. Each memory of this part of him was tied to her, from her presence with him, from her magic, from her once-love. His chest filled with warring emotions. Bitter anger at being manipulated yet again, sorrowful at the heart-wrenching memories, all tinted with her that had meant so much to him. This body that had meant so much to him, a gift from her. And now another magician come to punish him. Thick-furred sides heaved, panting with his eyes on the ground and his brows knit tightly together, sharp whines stringing helplessly from a tight through as he tried to let the emotional suffering wash through him. He stared so hard at the earth he couldn’t see it, felt the sob cough from his chest and the moisture disappear into the fur under his eyes. Everything had been with her. This wasn’t him, it was just another part of her. He choked in another stuttering breath, his body ready for another sob, another cry, but instinct won over and his head lifted, chin to the lonely sky with a soul-filled, mournful howl. A long lament, beautiful and aching in his pain, seven songs of sorrow, haunting and eery and echoing as it filled this forest. It faded into the sound of it’s own whispers and his head fell again, forcing careful breaths through a shattered chest. The forest captured that melody and played it back, quieting more and more with each iteration of anguish. His forest. His body. His soul. His wolf. This wasn’t Reagan, this shape of him, this soul of his past. She’d only brought forth him, the inner him. The beat of his heart, the story of his childhood, his life among the wolves. The outsider that finally belonged. The homeless finally with a family of his own. Different, never quite right, never quite what society wanted him to be, expected him to be. But he was him, and that’s all he ever knew how to be. This was him. Him. And this time his howl was strong with purpose. This wasn’t a piece of Reagan, this was him. It was clear, reverberating through trees and grasping branches, cutting through the night’s familiar fog and mist as it slowly swept around them and swallowed them up. He was no longer visible, but his voice still carried, loud and confident. Daring and challenging. Claiming. This is MY body, my soul. These are my people, my family. MINE. His eyes, glittering and hard, sharp as deadly pikes of ice, turned to her. She was changed now too, similar but different as she slid through the fog to sit before him in a cloak of dark purple fur. The wolf in him recognized the gesture, not submissive, but not challenging. Almost equals, but in his home, his territory. He had reign. He watched her, unyielding and piercing, waiting with a challenge in his eyes, a dare. Dominant and sure, confident and steady. What more? ”It looks better on me, you know,” she said, rising with languid ease and stretching. His body still ached, still yearned, and his eyes traveled her sleek body openly. It was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? Turning him into this again. She must know the state of his being, this magician, the trickster. This was his home, she was his if he wished. Maybe she would disagree, maybe she wouldn’t, but his wolf knew it. ”Don’t you agree?” He didn’t smile, though a dark amusement flickered in his eyes as he stepped forward, stalked towards her. His muscles rolled with each deliberate step, fluid movement beneath fur that had always been black before. But no longer. He didn’t even wonder why it was different now, whether it was his ex-wife or this magician that manipulated his true wolf. Was he truly the black or was he truly the wild grey? It didn’t matter. The wolf didn’t care, only accepted it and moved on. Adapted. This was him now, that was all that mattered. His dark, wet nose brushed into her fur, from her cheek to her neck. No hesitation. Possessive, but not claiming. Not his. But his for now. When his mouth reached her withers, he nipped lightly, granting himself a taste of this devil woman, watchful for her retaliation. She was dangerous. Then something stirred in him, sharp and needling. His eyes drifted off to the side, to the distance over her elegant spine as he rolled the taste of her skin over his teeth and chewed at her back. His neck prickled and his hackles almost rose, a growl wanting to start deep in his chest though it remained silent. A threat. He felt it, or sensed it. His forest, his home. A threat. Not her, somewhere else. Someone else. Perhaps Nayl had been right, after all. Fools. Pups without purpose. He dismissed it. Threats would come in their due time. He would deal with it then. It was nothing but a speck of dust in the distance. Harmless and hopeful. And his stare turned back to the matter at hand, to this current challenge, a threat to his sanity when his mind threatened to turn feral. She knew what he wanted, and must be here to taunt him. Or let him chase his prey and hunt. His eyes flashed brighter and he felt the dark grin glide across his lips. He nibbled up her neck, shifting his body to align with hers, standing at full height. ”What’s it gonna be, then?” he drawled low, breathing in the scent of her. ”You going to run?” His jaws clacked as he clipped the word, snapping his teeth together and swallowing the eager saliva pooling on his tongue. That wild light was still in his eyes, still bright and earnest. Yes, run. Run. Let me hunt you. ”Or will we have fun?” And he leaned his weight against her, pressing his hip into hers firm enough to force her to the side a step or push back against him. ”You let me loose. You set me free. So what’s it going to be?” Time to play. |