[private] Im the prison without doors, a boat without oars || NeverBabe ||

[Wolfbane]

I believe I'd die if I only could

I sure feel strange, but it sure feels good

Neverwhere was valiant in the face of death. She fought with every ounce of energy she could muster, and did her best to ensure that Wolfbane’s conquest wasn’t an easy one. From above her, he could appreciate the effort of all that writhing around she was doing and, even in the throes of an unforgivable act, how she tried to break free. She kicked him square on the underbelly and he lost his breath, but it was the power of reeling her back in that he truly lusted for. The knowledge that no matter how much she struggled now, hope was nowhere near to saving Neverwhere.

It was the feeling of a God. A power unlike magic, but still similar in the way it totally consumed him. He was stronger, faster, better than her and every horse who’d threatened him until this point, and when she gasped a last-attempt insult he only grit his teeth and saw a pulsing wave of angry red across his vision. He lost control for a senseless moment, blinded by his own rage, and wouldn’t be able to recall exactly what happened in response to her bitter self-righteousness.

They would know the answer, come springtime.

In the present, night wore on and the storm began to shift its energy elsewhere. The hail had lightened to a steady rain and the thunder was long gone in the distance, out over the churning sea where lightning sparkled soundlessly. Wolfbane snapped back into a present state of mind and, like the weather itself, pushed away from the limp body underneath. He was exhausted, but the urgency of flight had him glancing at Neverwhere to assure himself she couldn’t follow (gleefully, he wasn’t even sure if she were alive) and then quickly twisting his body into many forms at once: a melding of something quick on its feet and dark, covered in a skin impervious to water.

The skinwalker flicked his tongue into the air, tasting its mingled scents, and escaped further into Nerine where he knew the ocean and its black depths would harbor him. Later, when he crawled out from the waves and onto the eastern beaches of Pangea, he would savor each moment of the fight with Neverwhere - replaying the encounter over and over in an endless fantasy fulfilled, doing his best to remember the worst of details - but until then he ran like the criminal he was, and he didn’t stop because the destruction he’d left behind was inevitably bound to follow.

For this thread:  Sex: M  ◉  Appearance: Chompy Boi  ◉  Mood: Dangerous

@[Neverwhere]