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Post by SARANNA JUNE DAVIS on Feb 19, 2014 11:12:14 GMT -6
"speech"/'thoughts'
The grass glistened in the morning sunshine, the wind held a chill on it as it blew. Large fragments of ice were still on the ground, coating the pathways, remnants of the ice storm that had hit southern Louisiana. It was already starting to melt quickly, creating a frigid slush mixture that would have many slipping on the sidewalks before it completely broke down. The landscape was predominantly white, ruled by snow, and not a single soul was out when the schools and roads were still closed.
It wouldn’t be that way for long, though.
Among this icy wonderland, the Kishu Inu shifter should have been virtually invisible. Key word should. It had been a week since her initial showdown of when Haunt and his lackeys had found her. They’d put up a good fight; Saranna came out heavily injured. She would have been taken back to their pack for torturing and to repent for the wrongs she did to them had it not been for the ice storm that gripped the normally frost free city. While Saranna may be injured, so were the three tracking her. They’d been forced to hole up with the weather. Saranna, used to the high mountain’s unpredictable and merciless snowstorms, had been able to travel during the ice storm and cover her tracks better.
Well, that was until yesterday afternoon.
There was no additional ice to fall during the night to cover the red that she had left behind on the white.
Saranna sat on the deserted boardwalk, watching the churning waters of the Mississippi River below her, a completely frozen solid statue. The River hadn’t frozen over, barely even the edges, with its strong currents. Dried, frozen mud still clung to the thick ruff of fur along her cheeks, but the red stood out among her pelt the most. There was a great gaping gash along her left shoulder, a set of claw marks along her ribcage, and her breathing was labored. Her whole lithe frame, which should have been a pristine white, was pink in areas where the blood had mostly flaked off, and bright red with fresh, still moist blood. The blood was rapidly cooling, misting on the cold air in the vast temperate difference.
The fresh glistening blood was not hers, though. It held the distinct sweet smell of angel blood with a darkened twist to signify the angel as fallen. Along with the angel blood, there was a faint underlying scent of demon.
Saranna stared at the murky, restless waters with dead burgundy eyes for a moment longer then stood. Her tail curled stiffly over her spine, giving away her spitz breed type. She took a deep, struggling breath and turned intent on seeking better shelter and privacy. Her first few steps were slow and stiff. Her right hind leg looked like it had been someone’s chew toy, the skin shredded. Her first two steps were more like staggers, her figure hunched over and curled around her chest cavity in a manner similar to how a human might cradle a side. After a few steps though, her stance leveled out and even with her obvious blatant injuries, she appeared to be walking normal. She refused to betray just how many bruised and broken ribs she no doubt had. She’d been hurled hard enough into a tree trunk that she snapped it in half after all. Saranna had no doubt that if she had no had her inhuman strength she would have died with her neck and back broken.
Her claws made a hollow clicking on the inch thick ice sheets incasing the cement walk ways. With each paw step, her claws dug into the ice to grip it, leaving behind sharp claws marks gouged into the slick sheets. She didn’t slip once, even with her body broken and pushed beyond it limits. Unseen, each step sent a sharp coil of liquid agony racing up her limbs and down her spine. Muscles were torn, internal organs bruised, bones cracked and beaten, yet her body’s deeply ingrained instinct to survive, to live on even without a soul or mind to guide its actions, refused to let her pain show.
Her thoughts wandered while she let her paws guide her crippled body whatever which way they chose.
It had been two months since the Great Mountain Pack fell. Two months since she watched her packmates, her family, brutally slaughtered in their own home, a place that should have been the safest in the world. A place that she was supposed to protect, make a paradise for them. Werewolves mutilated because they couldn’t defend themselves, pups mauled just for being pups. Kita, her daughter, decapitated. Logan, her son-in-law, eviscerated. Hank, her gamma, her rook on the chessboard, throat slit. Buster, her pawn, eaten alive. Ajax, another pawn, skinned and flayed for protecting his mate and unborn pups. Diablos, her beta, adoptive father, and bishop, lost.
Zev, her knight and almost lover. He should have been her king had she ever thought to tell him her feelings.
She had fled to this land because she had nowhere to go. Her instincts to keeping living wouldn’t let her die no matter how hard she tried. Then six weeks ago she wasn’t quite so alone. She meet a boy, a ghost as she recently found out, and his dog, a pitbull named Tabitha that reminded her so painfully of Buster. They helped her even when she’d reacted on instinct and had tried to rip Chandler’s face off in a moment of weakness. Saranna was not weakness. But she was not reckless nor stupid either. She knew when she needed help. Chandler and Tabitha offered her some stability to her crumbled world, so over the weeks she’d flitted back and forth from his home to the streets. She never stayed long enough though, for more than a quick meal and much needed rest. Chandler and Tabitha were more for her physical recovery than anything. He was so naïve, having never suspected her to be a shifter.
Then came him. That infernal winged man, with his pale skin, and dark eyes and hair. How he’d handled her, having known from the start what she was. He’d treated her normally. All her life she’d either been the plague in her early life, or the queen in her later years. Never before had she just simply been a shifter, simply been Saranna.
No, wait, that was a lie.
The long months alone on cycles, before she became her pack’s leader. When it was just her. Just her and Zev. She was Saranna then.
Maybe that’s why she’d attached to Logan Blackfeather so quickly. Logan was the balm to the emotional turmoil that she never realized she had. Saranna had never been a creature of many emotions. As a shifter, a supernatural being, she should be on par with human thought processes. But honestly, her first 5 years of life had been nothing more than that of an animal. She’d been created, not born. Had she not desired freedom so greatly, she’d be dead in the ground right now; her body would be wore out from birthing litter after litter of superhuman puppies. Humanity? Pft, Saranna had none those first years of life. She had self-identity, but no humanity. How can you when you eat your littermates to survive? How could you, when you were a murderer before you could even talk or properly see? Even to this day, she didn’t feel remorse for what she had done. Honestly, she had saved her siblings a life of torture, of being locked in cages too small for them to shift. They would have never seen the sun or the moon, felt cool grass beneath their paws. They would never know what wind was, or sand. The only thing they would know their wholes lives was dark, cold, wet, rocks, and wire cages.
Looking at it now, her life had always been defined by blurred lines. There never was right and wrong. Just wrong and . . . not so wrong.
Logan would have probably been a major part in her new life. She’d always found herself shadowing his house, walking the halls at night when he slept. She knew where the towels were kept, when he arose in the morning and how it was always minutes before his alarm. She knew where he kept his extra guns in the house and ammunition, how he’d been so busy the last few weeks with his new job on the local police squad. Yet he’d always known when she would be there to spend the night, how she liked her steaks cooked (just seared enough on each side that they browned the slightest). They were both broken souls, fallen beings. He’d been there to comfort her at her worst time and she’d been there when nightmares kept him too from slumber. They would waste the night away in companionable silence only insomniacs understood. He talked around her, despite her not talking back. Teased her inability to shift into human form. Then offhandedly hinted how she should look. She’d accepted his comfort despite thinking she did not need it, because when had Saranna ever needed anyone?
A loud crack filled the air, causing the albino Kishu to jump. Her body sang with pain at the rapid movement. Saranna kept her face completely void, not hard when the right half was almost completely paralyzed due to the several years old scars betrayed the nerve damage. She looked up, her one open eye slightly wide as she realized her paws had carried her to the ice covered, deserted amusement park. The crack she heard was actually ice breaking off what appeared to be a large vertical wheel (ferries wheel). The crack reminded her too much of breaking, snapping bones. Saranna shook her head viciously, trying to dispel the image of ripped wings, blood caked ebony feathers, and dead, dead black eyes. His hand was frozen on her head in a final attempt to provide her comfort, accepting of his oncoming death. The scent of demon on Logan’s skin overpowered her, made her eyes water.
The blood frozen to her fur burned her skin.
His blood.
Like a switch, she dropped to the ground, scrubbing vigorously at her fur on the abrasive ice in an attempt to rid her fur of Logan’s blood. The cold bit at her skin, the sharp edges of the ice breaking the scabs on her own wounds and causing them to weep more. No matter how hard she rolled, writhed, and scrubbed, the blood wouldn’t was off. Even when her own blood replaced the angel blood, covered the faint traces of demon scent lingering to her skin, she still couldn’t rid herself of it.
Demons.
A demon had done this to her angel, had taken him from her before she could truly get to know him. She could never go back to Chandler and Tabitha without getting them killed. Logan would have been the only one she could turn to, but now he was gone too. And now, Saranna’s will to live had changed. No longer was she keen on just trying to make it day by day. She could not get revenge on her pack; it was too big a job alone to take down a whole pack. But she could get revenge for Logan. She didn’t know what demon had ripped his wings, had allowed him to slowly bleed to death in the snow and ice just hours ago, but demon was all that mattered.
Saranna stopped writhing in the ice, feeling it melt around her due to the sun and her hot blood now coating the area. She rolled onto her stomach, a growl curling the left half of her muzzle up into a gruesome grimace. Her steel fangs glimmered silver in the rays of light. First she needed to get her strength back; she would not be stupid to go demon hunting without some sort of strength.
But demon hunting she would go, even if it killed her.
And deep down, she hoped it would.
Amount: 2025 Notes: HAHA, 2000 words, baby. NO ANGELS PLEASE! Saranna has had her fill of feathers! Muse: EXCELLENT Outfit: NONE Tune: “What’s Left of Me” by Nick Lachey Tags: OPEN
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Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2014 20:01:22 GMT -6
| COUNT:401 with coding TAG: Sari OUTFIT:linkNOTES:short and horrid, but a start. | An exhausted sigh left the ragged man, who looked far to young to be feeling so ragged. But what did he expect after having to deal with a woman who swore she loved her animals, and would never do anything to hurt them, and that they shouldn't dare take them away from her. How two malnourished dogs could be considered taken care of and loved, he didn't know. He could see every bone in their body, through their skin, for god's sake. A buzz on his radio drew him out of his sudden thought to turn around and shoot the woman, and with a quick click of his button, he alerted that he was on call and ready. Report of a dog, seriously hurt - possibly wild - running around huh? Lost pet? Or a true wild dog though? Frowning, he ten-foured the order, turning down a street to take him in the direction. Working as an ASPCA officer - with all the credentials of an actual police officer made his job fun, but he hated seeing the dogs hurt and beat down.
He pulled over when he caught sight of the white dog ahead, and slowly the 'wolf climbed out of his issued van, opening the back for the catch stick he was 'required' to use. 'Humane' his ass. He'd been on the other end of the stick before. It was easier to just talk to the damn dogs. But what ever. He moved forward, eyes on the clearly beaten up dog ahead. Poor thing, what the fuck had happened to it? Did it get in fight with a lawn mower? Or was it just down on it's luck. He approached with caution, letting out a low whistle, calling out to the dog, "Hey there, watcha get into, girl? You look like you could use a break from walkin'." The wolf spoke softly, hazel eyes on the creature as he ran a hand through his long-ish hair, before dragging it along the stubble on his chin, "Why don't cha take it easy and we can get you some help, huh?" He suggested, inching forward to lop the catch stick around her neck, hoping it'll be a quick and easy rescue, not quite sure what he was dealing with just yet.
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Post by SARANNA JUNE DAVIS on Apr 6, 2014 21:27:16 GMT -6
"speech"/'thoughts'
The albino Kishu Inu shook herself upon rising to her paws, uncaring of the pain it brought on and the blood that flecked the ground. She staggered a few steps before finding her balance again and drawing herself up. She ignored the approach of a vehicle, not concerned about any on lookers. Unless of course they were of the demon species. This vehicle sounded different than what she was used to, though. It caused her to paws, slowly turning to gaze upon the strange van and the approaching man. He held what appeared to be a pole with a lope of rope around the end in his hands. She scented the air carefully, relaxing when she recognized the familiar scent of werewolf. She still remembered the nights of her first days with the pack, lounging around under the open stars and moon listening to the current leader, a werewolf, speak of stories of the founding of their pack. She resisted the urge to wag her tail. There was something comforting about being near a werewolf, even if he was a complete stranger.
Her left ear tilted forward to catch his words, the shredded remains of her right ear twitching. She turned to face him instead of presenting her whole body in an effort to intimidate him like some normal terrified dog. Her body was less of a target this way. She scoffed at his words, realizing the wind was coming towards her away from him, so he’d yet to scent she was a shifter. She was slightly amused, wondering when she had exactly downgraded to appearing as a simple dog at first glance. It used to be easy to tell she was a shifter; a glint in her eye, the distinct way upon which she viewed her world, with a calculate cold, indifference. She wasn’t wary like most dogs.
The blood loss must have been getting to her, or she was easily distracted by being in the calming presence of something so familiar, but suddenly that noose was around her neck and tightening. Her body stiffened, alarmed at how easily she slipped out of it. She opened the previously close eye to look quizzically at the metal noose tightening around her neck and then turned an almost scolding look to the werewolf before her. She braced her front paws, feeling the exhausted, torn muscles protest, but obediently listened. The muscles corded beneath her thin frame as the strength flooded through her. ”You are not very smart, are you werewolf," she growled lowly in an exhaustedly manner. The super strength burned her muscles as she whipped around and promptly leaped ten foot away, dragging the werewolf attached to the pole with her as effortlessly as if leaping over a log. Her feet slipped out beneath her as she skidded on ice, ripping the pole from the werewolf’s hands. She clamped her teeth down to prevent a yelp from escaping, quickly rising to her paws.
Instead of running off, she simply stood there, staring at the werewolf laying the snow. Her muscles quivered beneath her skin, singing with the after effects of overuse. To disguise the quiver, she sat down and used a hind paw to loosen the noose around her neck. Once it was loose enough to slip into her mouth, she used her metal teeth to snip the metal cord easily, revealing slightly bloody gums. She shook herself carefully and gave the werewolf a baleful look with ruby eyes. The left corner of her lips twitched, the right half of her face frozen due to the scars marring it. She would be quite a stunning creature if it weren’t for the mauled part of her face. "Are you quite finished treating me like some common stray? Because I have more important matters to attend to than amuse your pathetic attempts at capturing me. But you insist on trying to restrain me, may I suggest something more parallel to Nixon’s standards? An ambush of your best warriors perhaps?"
Amount: 663 Notes: haha, she sounds so sophisticated even when she’s scolding someone Muse: EXCELLENT Outfit: NONE Tune: “What’s Left of Me” by Nick Lachey Tags: OPEN
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Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2014 21:53:02 GMT -6
| COUNT:512 with coding TAG:Sari. OUTFIT:linkNOTES:a little better. | Malekai considered himself pretty versed in knowing and recognizing other species, but it was no small matter that to him . . . the dog in front of him at the moment seemed like a dog. Even as it turned around to face him, tilting an ear to hear what he had to say, facing him more directly. He approached slowly, careful as he slowly let the noose slink around her neck and then tighten it, not expecting her sudden reaction. Did the dog just send a scold- He finally met her gaze and his confidence dropped a few bars. This was a dog right? You are not very smart, are you werewolf. He didn't get a chance to even respond, shock showing on his features before the female suddenly lept and in another instant Malekai found himself chest down in the snow, a growl ripping from his human mouth as his eyes narrowed at the wet, white stuff. How the hell had he managed to let down his guard enough to fall into the snow?! If this ever got back to his friends. He pushed himself to hands and kneels, shaking snow out of his hair as he bit back another growl, rocking back and onto his feet in a smooth move.
He looked up to see the female staring at him, before sitting down and using a paw to loosen the noose, cutting it in half with her teeth, before giving him another look before speaking again. Are you quite finished treating me like some common stray? Because I have more important matters to attend to than amuse your pathetic attempts at capturing me. But you insist on trying to restrain me, may I suggest something more parallel to Nixon's standards? An ambush of your best warriors perhaps? The 'wolf growled as he ran another hand through his hair, dislodging more particles of snow, before eyeing her, "I was under the impression I was dealing with a stray." He snapped back, eyeing her, "Alright, so I fucked up a bit. Was just trying to do my job." He grumbled, briefly flashing the ASPCA badge to the dog in front of him, before eyeing her, "Now, tell me, what happened to you? Shouldn't you be off trying to get some help? Hate to tell ya, darlin', but you look like you've been to hell and back." Instantly his tone had softened again, taking a look at her injuries, "Alright, what about a truce. You let me take you back to my place, I'll get you fixed up, and once you're good and healed you can be on your way. Hell, you don't even need to change human or anything." He stated as he began to walk back to his van. There was a brief pause before he glanced back over his shoulder at her, "And the name's Malekai. Malekai Bane, not werewolf." He added, eyeing her briefly before turning back around, "You coming, Shifter?"
"Speech"
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Post by SARANNA JUNE DAVIS on Apr 6, 2014 23:46:04 GMT -6
"speech"/'thoughts'
Saranna couldn’t help but wag her tail in an effort to show her amusement without going over the top at seeing the werewolf’s obvious shock. But really, was it that much of a shock? In her time here, she’d yet to meet another dog even remotely close to her breed. Even in the supernatural world, it had been hard to come back shifters that took after Akitas, Shibas, Kishus, and Kai Kens. Her muscles were still quivering uncertainly so she shifted, after freeing herself from that metal contraption, to scratch her chin lazily, painfully. "I am a bit curious as to how often you see dogs of my breed. If you took a moment, you might actually think me a house pet, not a stray." A sharp twinge in her ribs made her stop contorting her body and straighten out. She gave a careful yawn and eyed the badge he showed her, "Relax kid, let me guess. Feeling a little embaressed at being best by a little Kishu. Do not worry, you are not the first. "
She rose to her paws and gave the metal pole a slight nudge with a paw, wrinkling half her snout at it. She snorted softly before she began to turn around, intent on just leaving this werewolf behind. She had stayed in this area too long anyways, Haunt and his blundering duo would be hunting for her soon. She froze at the word inquiring how she ended up like this. Help? Yea right. "What ever gave you the impression of that?” she inquired almost teasingly at his reference to hell. "Had I not had to cover for someone, I would have been able to perform a successful tactical retreat."
She turned to look at him, her whole body rather than a simple head turn. She was good at not showing it, but little mannerisms like turning her whole body, expending more energy than she should, gave away the pain. "I do not require help. Besides, should you help me, you will only put yourself in harm’s way. I will not endanger a member of another pack by letting them get entangle with my own problems. I would politely decline...Malakai," she called out as she turned back around and began to trudge off into the quickly melting winter wonderland. "I have caused enough harm to others as is," she whispered, intent on wandering into the gaping jaws of the awaiting enemies she knew where closing in. She would not, COULD not get another involved. Too many had been lost at her expense. In the bushes hidden away, a silent figure watched. He wasn’t really putting much effort into hiding; so much as he was trying to watch the exchange in front of him. He was alone, miraculously. Belial and Switchblade had run home, having been deemed by him too injured to continue. His own neck was sore, that bite of hers cut deep into his topline, but he wasn’t here to actually hurt her. He needed to get a window in order to speak to her. Logan had been his little brother, named pack heir instead of him. Mostly because he was the son of the current alpha female and ex alpha male. He’d been kept around because he’d had too much too offer. But Haunt was compassionate. Nixon had killed his father and took over the pack with brute force. Logan had been his kid brother, and in their final meeting, Logan had expressed how happy he was with Kita. Haunt had not been part of the attack that killed Saranna’s pack and his brother. He would have stopped it had he known. His pack was in shambles because of the tyrant that was Nixon, and he wanted him out. He needed Saranna’s help for it.
Saranna was about to break into a jog away from the area when she froze. Her body went rigid and her eyes immediately began scouting the area. They were not alone. Movement in the bushes to her far right caught her attention. A white wolf, thick with long legs built for long distance running, stepped from the bushes, offset only by the silver guard hairs along his neck and the faint tinge of pink along his shoulders. His eyes were a bright mesmerizing yellow. Saranna stood frozen, muscles quivering as the wolf stared her down. Saranna lean back, intent on sprinting away, when suddenly the white wolf tilted his head sideways in a very Logan like manner and simply padded away.
Saranna stood there, crimson eyes narrowed. That unguarded look, almost challenging. And his simple retreat, not walking away but a loose jog as if he were just going on a stroll. Completely non-aggressive. He wanted something. He wanted to talk. Saranna couldn’t chance that, not until she was sure his lackeys weren’t hiding away. She glanced at Malakai. If Haunt was really here to harm them, he’d seen Malakai so the harm had been done already. If she wanted to go head first again a lone Haunt, she did need help. At least to get to a point where she could properly defend herself should it go down south.
She turned and walked slowly to Malakai’s side. "I grow weary of this world, life was simpler in the supernatural."
Amount: 869 Notes: bahaha, yea right, life was not simple then! Muse: EXCELLENT Outfit: NONE Tune: “What’s Left of Me” by Nick Lachey Tags: Malakai
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Post by Deleted on Apr 7, 2014 7:18:55 GMT -6
| COUNT:850 TAG: Sari OUTFIT:linkNOTES:.Finally pretty and rewritten. |
Of all the things that Malekai ever imagined happening to him . . . well it was safe to say that this didn't fall under any of the possibilities. The cold swept through his body as he lay face down in the snow, still trying to figure out exactly how he'd ended up in this position. Loop the noose around dog. Control dog and take dog to van. Loud dog up in van. Take dog back to shelter. Done. In no section of the list of 'how things are suppose to be done' does fall in snow, head first as dog lunges away, and snaps clean through noose with steel teeth'. He didn't sign up for this shit! And the fact she was a shifter, and not a dog at all . . . It wasn't his best day ever at the moment.
He slowly sat up, before rocking back to his feet, trying to shake snow free off his body, "You're a little too roughed up to be mistaken for a pampered pet . . . sorry to say." He commented, his tone calm, but slightly dry. He was still trying to get over the bruised ego developed from being knocked clean off his feet. "Kid? I haven't been a id for over 15 years. And I'm not embarrassed." He grumbled low, beneath his breath. And he wasn't . . . He was just slightly upset at having been bested. At least no one was around who could have seen that horrid display.
He glanced down at the ruined stick when she pushed it aside, bending to pick it up and look it over. A sigh escaped him at the obvious wrecked condition . . . His boss wasn't going to be happy when he sees it. His attention was drawn back to the girl-shifter-dog in front of him when she replied to his comment on her appearance, a brow raising slightly in question. Something had caused her to be in this condition? Someone she found needing protection so she wasn't able to get away unscathed? He didn't voice any of these questions though, figuring if he wanted to know he could always ask later, and deciding now wasn't the time for a Q and A session. Not when she was clearly in bad shape.
Her reaction to his offer of help stunned him though. Not only was it turned down - but she was walking away from him now too. She clearly needed help, and she wasn't willing to take it? Her battle or not, he could handle himself anyways. He didn't need protecting. Especially from whatever she feared. He could handle himself. But still, she was blowing him off! He couldn't even piece together a reaction before she'd started to walk away. However her escape was halted by an unfamiliar white beast (at least, unfamiliar to him) showing up. His eyes danced from one canine to the other, before a growl grew up in his throat at seeing the female's reaction to the male - though he didn't have a chance to even scare the othe away before she'd returned to his side.
Malekai remained silent as he watched the other male walk away calmly - and with out hurry - before looking down at the female and nodding once, " Alright, let's go." He lead her in silence to the van, opening the passenger side door and about to offer to help her up when he caught a glimpse of the leather seats which would offer no traction for her paws, especially if he had to suddenly slam on his breaks. Pausing he grabbed a blanket from the back before pillowing it on the seat and then stepped aside for the female to look at, "Do you need help getting in, or can you manage on your own?" He asked, though he didn't give her a chance to respond, already bending at the waist to gently lift her into the car, making sure not to hurt her.
Once he was certain she was settled, he closed the door before walking around the hood and to his door. He climbed in, starting the van as he fished his cell out of his pocket and pushed the button that would call his sister. Setting the phone up in a vertical stand, he slipped the car into gear and pulled into traffic as a teen's youthful face appeared on his screen, her expression curious, "Hey Kitten. I have an injured Shifter I'm brining home. Can you have supplies ready when we get there?" He asked, smiling when she smiled and nodded, waving goodbye before the screen went black. Malekai made one last call as he hit the interstate, calling his supervisor to inform that he had a pack emergency and would be unavailable for a few days, before taking the off ramp that would lead to his home.
"Speech"
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Post by SARANNA JUNE DAVIS on Apr 7, 2014 10:22:24 GMT -6
"speech"/'thoughts'
The creature that was Haunt was a mystery to her. She’d met him on a very few occasions, when she over saw a meeting between him and Logan. The two brothers’ pack wasn’t an ally, so she had to supervise meetings to ensure no harm was done that might anger either pack and turn simple rivals into enemies. Ironic, huh? Peace keeping wasn’t her strong suit, she technically should have had Hank overseeing the meetings, but Logan had been her son-in-law. She felt it was her duty to oversee him. Saranna wrinkled her nose as she followed Malakai to the metal contraption she’d learned from the angel Logan was a van. In a strange turn of events, Haunt was in essence related to her. Regardless if the blood relation between him and Kita’s Logan had only be half brothers, the two wolves, nearly identical in looks, had been brothers through and through.
All these thoughts of the past made her wonder. It used to be that any thought of the recent mental trauma she went through, or even the slightest mention of someone from her past, would send her into a catatonic induced stupor. But the time between episodes was lengthening, to the point where it slipped her mind that she could at any moment slip into a trance. She vaguely watched Malakai retireve a blanket from the back of the van. Now that she finally had a moment to examine her thoughts, she realized; time was lengthening, but the severity of the episodes were doing the same, growing in the time she remained caught in the black out, and also in the intensity with which the catatonic episode grabbed.
She could stay long, she couldn’t let him have a glimpse into the shredded remains of her mind and psyche. He might very well shove unwanted, but no less appreciated, help down her throat. Like Logan. She could still feel his hands ghosting over her body, helping her calm herself in the throes of panic as she remained trapped, watching every gory detail of her packmates’ death. Wait, hold on-
Those weren’t Logan’s fingers she was feeling, but rather Malakai’s hands!
Before she could even think of reacting, she’d been hoisted into the car and he was speaking to someone on a strange device. Saranna eyed face that magically appeared on the little box warily, half expecting it to rise from the screen and slap her. She had much to learn about this world, she realized as her attention was successfully turned from disembodied voices and faces to the much unappreciated swaying of the vehicle. She’d never ridden in one before; Logan had tried to convince her to once only for it to very quickly backfire. She sunk down in the seat dejectedly, musing that whatever honor she had left was disappearing out the window as quickly as the trees, street light poles, and buildings did.
Oh, Saranna, don’t look at the fast disappearing objects. She crossed a paw over her left eye, letting the scarred right eye relax until it was closed. It didn’t take long for her to quickly decide that maybe having your eyes closed did not help the vague swaying. She felt like Haunt was gnawing on her mangled hind leg and bodily throwing her into an oak tree again. The phantom memory sent a burning coil up her abused spine that quickly spread over her ribcage. The burning grew greater and Saranna vaguely wondered how she could be so hot when she should have been cold. She glued her eyes to the floor in front of her before deciding that the more enclosed space seemed like a better position. Like a liquid, she slipped off the seat into a puddle of white and red on the floor, sending Malakai a burning look.
"If this is your version of payback, I will not apologize. I might just fancy taking you for another drag through the snow," she grumbled unhappily. She remained there, curled as tightly as her broken body would let her before some words sank in. He’d called his boss to in form him of a pack emergency. She quickly sat up, her single open eye wide in slight alarm, ignoring the nausea curling in her feverish body. "No just hold on one damn minute, you did not inform me I would be taken to a pack," she snarled. No, this was not good. Not good at all. She was fine if he wanted to help her, he wasn’t as defenseless as Chandler, but she’d be damn if another pack would fall at her expense. And the chances of being recognized were greater. She may not be received with open arms, there was not a single doubt in her mind that Nixon had a bounty on her head.
A particularly nasty bump in the road had Saranna banged the scarred side of her face into the dashboard beside her. She gave a tiny yelp, less towards her now spotty vision and face in general, more towards the pain in her mouth as her serrated teeth showed no mercy on her gums and lips. She swallowed the blood in her mouth and licked her lips, smearing the blood across the white hairs. How often had she missed her ability to simply ‘turn off’ the metal alloy that coated her teeth?
A least a thousand by now.
Amount: 896 Notes: hehe, car sick Sari is pathetic <3 Muse: EXCELLENT Outfit: NONE Tune: “The Beacon” by A Fine Frenzy Tags: Malakai [div styl
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Post by Deleted on Apr 8, 2014 7:10:49 GMT -6
| COUNT:##### TAG:For.For.For OUTFIT:linkNOTES:speak.speak.speak. | Malekai said nothing, as he lifted her easily into the car, only entering his side of the door after making sure she would be okay. It was only then that he spoke to his sister and then his boss as he began to drive. Unfortunately she didn't seem to be to fond of the car trip, not that he Noticed until she crawled down into the bottom of the not seat. He chuckled at her look raising an eyebrow at him, "Car sick?" he asked, amused.
She remained on the ground for the rest of the car ride before she jumped in alarm about his words of 'a pack emergency' and he gently shook his head, "I promise it's not really any sort of pack situation. My pack is back home, I just accompanied my sister here. I have a few friends here in town to help keep her safe but otherwise only kitten and I stay at the house."He assures looking at her only briefly before pulling up to a decent sized house and getting out of the car. Opening her door he walked her towards the house where kitten was waiting at old, her gaze worried as she looked at the shifter.
"Speech"
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Post by SARANNA JUNE DAVIS on Apr 8, 2014 21:03:55 GMT -6
"speech"/'thoughts'
Saranna sunk back down to the floor of the van, her tongue gently probing her abused gums. She’d had her rough patches through life. She’d been raped, beaten to within less than an inch of her life, tortured. She’d murdered. She’d even doomed others to death by turning her back on them because taking them in might endanger her pack. Sometimes she had no proof that those she’d abandoned to nature’s cruel ways were any sort of threat. She’d judged others based on looks before. She was not a just creature, but in the world today, very few were.
She’d done a lot of things in the name of others. She’d never been one to show or feel regret. Hell, she did look upon her past before the pack with contempt anymore. She’d accepted it. But most of all, never had Saranna felt...simply this pathetic.
Malakai would make the third person who’d helped her since she came here. Where had that grand leader gone? She’d earned the titles of Warrior Queen, White Wraith. She’d been the soul leader of a pack greater than a hundred, over half of which were great warriors who had been under not only her tutelage but also taught by her own mentor. She’d untied together three of the Great Packs in not just simple peace treaties; they had been brothers at arms.
Where those packs obliterated too? Where they like her, nothing more than a broken beast unable to stand up for herself much less for someone else?
Saranna curled tighter into her ball, seeking the comfort that her two necklaces once brought. When she felt the absence of the chain collar, she remembered she’d left it at Logan’s for safe keeping. Her gut twisted unpleasantly. She’d have to go retrieve it before the house was emptied. The chain collar may not mean much to anyone, but no doubt the pearl pendant on the rope necklace would.
Zev and Diablos. Where were they? Surely they were dead, they would have found her by now.
The thoughts of her last two pack members, previous owners of her necklaces, made her old wounds burn. Tonight would make two months since her pack fell. A good bit of her wounds from that night had healed well, sealed over with only minor healing left, mere pink marks now that were only tender when pushed on like a bruise. But the major injury she’d received that night, from Belial, had been majorly infected when Logan had dressed it a little over a week ago. Judging from the burning there, the wound had reopened. The stab wound, located between her third and fourth ribs on her underside, was hidden well by her elbow. She’d been lucky Belial hadn’t shoved that dagger deeper; another few centimeters and she’d have punctured a lung.
Saranna only half listened to him speak, every time he spoke of this ‘Kitten’ a different kind of pain stabbed her. Kitten...it was too close to Kita’s name. Logan, Zev, even stoic Diablos had called her Kit in private. Saranna had a feeling that she would not be staying here long. Chandler had Tabitha, a near clone to Buster. Logan shared a name with her son in law. But that wasn’t the same as her precious Kita. She’d never told Kita that she was her mother. Kita knew, but it was like Zev all other again; known unconsciously but never spoken. She had died without those words; just like Zev.
The car lurched, well okay, turned she assumed, before slowing to a stop. ’Thank what ever spirits or Gods may walk this earth,’ she growled in her head. She suddenly wanted to be better, to stop uselessly picking fights with strays to just feel something inside. She wanted to run, as her breeders had intended, as she’d been born to do. Flying through tree tops like advance training with her spies. Or simply tearing through a wood, just to feel the dirt beneath her paws, the wind in her eyes and ears, perhaps chasing some poor helpless rabbit for sport only.
She waited until Malakai opened her door, super strength coiling in her muscles, a liquid burn, before she was surging up from the floorboard into the air to land a good ten foot distance away from that vehicle of doom on three legs. She glared half-heartedly at the metal contraption. Her spine prickled and muscles quivered, not with abuse this time from over used super powers, but rather from the eyes of a foreign presence on her back. She drew herself up, squared her paws best she could with her injured paw. She turned to face who she supposed was this ‘kitten’…
And bristled head to toe, about five seconds away from bolting the hell out here. A human!
She turned a sharp gaze to Malakai and planted her paws, refusing to move another step. ”She is a human. Now your words make sense. I was going to inquire what kind of werewolf would require protecting by others, but now I understand,” she stated in a cold manner. Really, it was a Saranna way. Her pack had learned she was not one to sugar coat things, she was frank with a cold outlook on life. She always viewed the world through cold indifference. This was no exception. She could not stay here, even if the blood beginning to run down her right foreleg said differently. ”I think I must re-evaluate your offer for assistance, Malakai. This ‘Kitten’ of yours complicates things.”
Amount: 916 Notes: SARI IS NOT AMUSED xDDD Muse: EXCELLENT Outfit: NONE Tune: “The Beacon” by A Fine Frenzy Tags: Malakai
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Post by Deleted on Apr 8, 2014 22:19:34 GMT -6
| COUNT:##### TAG:For.For.For OUTFIT:linkNOTES:speak.speak.speak. | Malekai opened the passenger side door before stepping back when he noticed her muscles coiling moments before she jumped from the vehicle, his eyebrow raising when she landed ten feet away. To him it seemed a tad like overkill. He wasn't that bad of a driver, and besides. It wasn't that bad to ride passenger. But he had a feeling she didn't have much experience with the cars, or so it seemed. He watched her square her paws, even with the injured paw, before turning to face his sister and immediately the female dog bristled up.
Immediately Kitten frowned, noticing the shifter's reaction to her, and her shoulders slumped slightly, looking towards her brother silently in question. Despite being mute and learning sign language, she rarely spoke at all, not even with her hands. Luckily her brother had a lot of experience with reading her emotions and her questions, "Don't worry, Kitten. She's just surprised to see you. Why don't you get get the guest room set up, hmm?" He suggested. Kitten nodded, offering a tiny smile towards the other before turning to head inside, not saying a word.
Immediately the male turned to the dog, his gaze narrowed, "Yes, she's human. And she's seen more than any human ever should. So, regardless, of whether she needs protection or not, she is a valued member of our pack, and well loved. Do not speak ill of her." He said with a slight growl to his tone, before raising an eyebrow, "And how does my sister complicate things? You need help, whether you want to admit it or not. So just come inside and let us take care of you. And stop trying to back pedal your way out of it. My sister and I can handle, and protect; ourselves." He said with an annoyed huff.
"Speech"
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Post by SARANNA JUNE DAVIS on Apr 9, 2014 11:59:53 GMT -6
"speech"/'thoughts'
Saranna clenched her teeth painfully at Malekai’s tone. Just when had people become so curious of the private details of others’ lives. She was used to others never questioning her words or ways, not because of her status, but because of the indifference she displayed so easily. She was obviously a very private being. Nothing fazed her, or at least, used to faze her. She’d long ago accepted her past, her origins. She always thought herself as a being above a creature feeling of hate. The only being in the world she could ever hate with a passion was Cephus, her rapist and Kita’s father. Cephus had assaulted her, tortured her with little other reason than just the desire to do so. But even then, she’d never gone out to seek revenge.
The ongoing war with Nixon, she didn’t hate him for it. In a way, Nixon, even if he was an evil bastard, has a right to seek revenge. She’d made a fool of him, by ‘stealing’ his heir and only son. She’d doomed his pack, because from what she’d heard, in the years after Logan’s birth, he’d been unable to sire pups and his female pups were incompetent and mentally challenged. No, Saranna deserved to be hunted, she’d done that to Nixon, turned his pack against him.
In all her life, Saranna had shown a dislike to the human race in general. She’d never much interaction with the species outside those first few years. Humans had literally made her what she was, a freak of nature. She was strong physically, but mentally and emotionally she was far from it. Humans had kept her kind, if not superior, at least equal, in cages, forcing them to remain in animal form. Humans had degraded her kind, turning them into breeding pigs that were disposed of the very minute they could not produce large enough litters. She didn’t hate humans, though. But she didn’t like them. She avoided them when she could, but it would be hard in this world.
Even she did not like humans and did not care for them, it didn’t mean she’d throw an innocent girl into the fray. And if this werewolf couldn’t put it together that the claw marks and wounds were from an enemy, she’d have to be frank with him. ”Sixty-three warriors. Eleven mothers, nine of which had warrior training. Twenty-three youngsters varying in age, but all under training. Fifteen elders, retired but still strong. One hundred twelve shifters, simple canines, and werewolves. Against twenty wolves. In two hours.” She whispered under her breath, her voice raw. Screams echoed in her mind, threatening to drag her under. ”It took me seven years to rebuild that pack. Seven years of hand picking each and every warrior’s given duty, training them myself. We took down bears for fun. And in two fucking hours, it was gone. They didn’t even spare the unborn pups.” she snarled to herself, shaking with despair. She turned burning crimson eyes to gaze at Malekai, her gaze smoldering.
”Do you know how to skin a shifter alive?”
Amount: 507 Notes: and the contraction words stop. Muse: EXCELLENT Outfit: NONE Tune: “The Beacon” by A Fine Frenzy Tags: Malekai
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Post by Deleted on Apr 9, 2014 13:05:07 GMT -6
| COUNT:##### TAG:For.For.For OUTFIT:linkNOTES:speak.speak.speak. | There was only three things that Malekai would defend with his own life. His family. His Pack. His Sister (not necessarily in that order). And with the way that the female had reacted to his sister, he was instantly on guard. He'd seen her display of tricks, well the super strength anyways, and caught sight of those wicked looking silver teeth. If she was going to react threateningly (or so he immediately presumed) towards Kitten . . . . he would be very cautious with her. He couldn't know for sure what the hell was up, but either way, he would do his best to protect Kitten, and help this female. When she began to speak, he looked at her, and as she spoke, his eyes started to widen, the words she saying meeting with the scene that came to his eyes. Figures strewed across the grass, his pack standing in shock as they looked around. It was a good few months ago, back before he and Kitten had left for New Orleans, and had been kept close to his father who had guided him along. But nothing could have prepared him - them - to that scene. He didn't meet her gaze, shaking the image from his head, even as she asked if he knew how to skin a shifter alive.
Finally he turned to look at her, not speaking immediately, "You're the Warrior Queen, Saranna." He said quietly, slowly shaking his head, "My pack, we had been going to see yours about an alliance. We came across the . . . the battle field, too late to help anyone. My alpha and father spent hours moving through . . . . through those lost, searching for any hint of any survivors." His vision returned to the battle field, voice going softer again, "Any hint of you . . . Our Alpha said no one could have possibly escaped such a brutal attack and you were probably dead somewhere in the masses . . . Father refused to give up hope, saying if any could survive, the Warrior Queen could." He shook his head with a rough sigh, before looking back down at her finally, "Just . . . . don't mention anything about it to Kitten, whether you stay or not . . . . I don't want it triggering one of her episodes." The entire pack had kept the massacre from the fragile human, remembering how traumatic the scene of her family's murder had been for her at six, and how long it took them to help her start healing. She hadn't had an episode from PTSD in a good few years, and her anxieties were usually under control . . . but he wanted her to be very safe.
Looking back to the house, he sighed heavily, "Now, stop arguing and just come inside. Please." He said with a slight shake of his. "Just let us help you . . . . you don't even have to stay that long or anything. Okay? Just let us help."
"Speech"
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Post by SARANNA JUNE DAVIS on Jun 3, 2014 22:48:20 GMT -6
"speech"/'thoughts' Saranna continued to keep her sharp, smoldering gaze on Malekai. Her muscles quivered underneath her skin, the movement so little it was almost invisible. The tremors ran from nose to tail, down to her paws in waves. Whether it was from pain (she was bleeding heavily now from some unknown wound near her sternum, judging from the blood coating her leg) or anger or despair, her eyes would not show it. Before those ruby pools had been sharp, cold, distant. But now they burned with a fire so deep, it was a wonder the intensity of the flames didn’t smother each other out. He spoke her name and, if possible, her body seemed to tense up even more. She looked similar to a rabbit ready to bolt, only she lacked the fearful eyes.
”Don’t avoid the truth, especially to me. It was no battle field, it was a slaughter. Pups ripped from their mother’s breast and wombs, mates forced to watch their beloveds tortured,” her eyes were quickly growing cold again, darkening and clouding over. Her breath was steadily becoming fainter and erratic. She abruptly turned away at the mention of a survivor.
Diablos...Zev...and...
Laughter, sharp, loud. It was grating against the ears. How could one so obviously easy to find on hearing be so insanely hard to locate on sight? Things came much too easily to her and she was much too lax in her duties and training because of it. Though considering who her father was, it wasn’t all that shocking, at least the brilliant mind behind those bright copper eyes. She had almost nothing in common with her husky mother, other than coat type and the deceivingly kind, delicate face. Saranna had no clue where the bright, bubbly personality had come from. Her father was as stoic as her, if not more, and Rhea was an absolute sweetheart. Saranna sighed and stood from her position of watching the morning training. She relieved a very pissed, cranky Roxxy from duty, and took over training. The two brothers immediately faced her, stoic as their father, though the female puffed out her cheeks and curled her lip; playtime was over and work was about to start. The raven black fur, healthy with the metallic blue sheen, the brilliantly colored red markings and the bright , lively eyes. There was a sharp look behind those narrowed pupils, the look of someone constantly evaluating the world around. A prodigy indeed. Playtime was over.
"Rachelle is infuriating even at her best times,," she whispered to herself, fiercely. It was as if she was trying to convince even herself as she spoke. "But she has one of the most brilliant minds I’ve ever seen. It wouldn’t have mattered if you showed up days afterwards. Once the news reached her post in our ally packs, she would have gathered our allies and made them flee. She knows her duty. I wish I had more loyal to their duty rather than myself like her. Maybe…" her breath caught in her throat, a sharp hitch. It was the first easily seen falter by her.
Maybe what? They would have escaped only to be chased down like prey animals and slaughtered later.
Saranna looked down at her paws, digging her claws into the frozen earth beneath her. She was suddenly intensely aware of the frigid bite of the air and the snow beneath her. Each pain that had been studiously ignored was suddenly so very, very hard to shove aside. Each breath made her ribcage rattle and each muscle twitch caused sporadic tremors that made her whole frame quiver. She allowed the silence to stretch for a long time before she sighed. "I suppose you will not let me leave until you somehow provide some form of assistance. If I’m correct in judging from your human’s reaction earlier, she cannot understand canine speech. Her ears are safe." Besides, it’s not like she had a human form to speak to the girl even if she desired so.
Amount: 660 Notes: kainehillphotography.deviantart.com/art/Nala-285208362 Rachelle <3 she will be making several appearances in Saranna’s personal plot later on Muse: EXCELLENT Outfit: NONE Tune: “The Beacon” by A Fine Frenzy Tags: Malekai
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Post by Deleted on Jul 29, 2014 23:05:52 GMT -6
| COUNT:##### TAG:For.For.For OUTFIT:linkNOTES:speak.speak.speak. | Kai kept silent as he watched the femal, noting her sharp gaze, his eyes taking in the quiverr of his muscles, even the tremors that quaked over her body. Blood coated herr body, bleeding heavily while other bits of fur looked matted with congealed blood. She didn't look good, but the fire in her eyes, and the way her body continued to tense, had him expecting she might attack soon. Bolt, or attack. He leaned to attack. He flinched at her words, her cold eyes, noting her faint breath, as it became erratic. A slaughter, it was true. As she spoke, seeming lost in herself, Malekai kept silent, uncertain what to say as she spoke, her words freeing up.
Her gaze dropped to her paws then, going silent, as her claws dug into the earth, th snow around herr, beneath her. Her quivering seemed to increase, and he watched her as the silence stretched before he shook his head, "No, you need help. So, let me . . . us . . . help you." Kai said, looking at her, and nodding, "Yes, her ears are safe, and even if she did hear something, Kitten is mute and cannot speak anyways." He said, his voice going a tad rough to make the topic of his sister non-existant as he approached the female, "Will you come inside, or shall I carry you?" He asked, an eyebrow raised, even as his sister moved inside to make sure everything was ready to help the female, "And leave my sister out of any conflicts you have. With us, or anyone else." He added, his tone protective, "She's seen her family slaughtered in front of her eyes by raging 'wolves, and is traumatized enough. I'd rather her not deal with any other kinds of troubles." He growled faintly, before looking back at Saranna, "So, will you willingly let us help you, or shall I carry you?"
"Speech"
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Post by SARANNA JUNE DAVIS on Aug 25, 2014 20:56:03 GMT -6
"speech"/'thoughts'
She needed a focal point to regain control of her rapidly deteriorating thoughts. It was some minor miracle so far that she had not spiraled down into a catatonic episode; she knew not when the next was to happen, but she knew the longer she stayed around this male, the greater chance she’d be locked away again to re-live that hell. She had previously thought that being unable to properly communicate with those who provided her with aid was torturous. Saranna knew though, that even if she did have the means of proper communication with Chandler and Logan that she probably would not have pursued contact. It was just who she was. But the fact that that option had been so obviously beyond her reach had been infuriating. Including technicalities, though, she supposed she did have a way to communicate with them. But she’d never shown any talent or even desire for shifting into a humanoid form. She didn't even have the slightest inkling as to how she could even shift. Twenty-two years of being nothing but an animal with human thoughts had pretty much chosen the shifter’s preferred lifestyle for her. She knew nothing of the human lifestyle and would prefer to keep it that way. She'd seen their work and cruelty firsthand, she was the product of it.
Saranna worked her claws into the rapidly melting ice beneath her paws, taking in his words carefully. And like that, something within her clicked. That old familiar rage, the burning anger, the gut wrenching resentment, was back rushing through her veins. She had spent five years wallowing in that filthy hell hole, the time before the pack had birthed her soul. It had taken two years to even get her head above the waves and longer to bury that dark hole beneath layer after layer after layer after layer. It had never disappeared, but over time it had morphed into something else when she had no choice but to let herself unleash it. Saranna was not the grand queen many made her out to be, not once you got to know her. But her pack had lived in the dark through a harsh period where they thought all was lost. Saranna was the leader they needed; frank, to the point, not afraid of what needed to be done to help them survive and rise. She had never hidden anything from her pack that she deemed important. As long as it never caused mass panic, she never hid things from her pack.
Her pack had been her life.
Her pack had been her devotion, her world.
Her pack had been her everything.
And now her everything, her world, her life, was destroyed.
The change wasn’t visible at first, but it quickly consumed every cell in her body. Her whole body slowly became still, muscles locking in a fixed position ready for action. Her senses drove her body into hyper drive, blocking out the unnecessary like her own harsh breathing and bringing forth the important. She could hear the male werewolf’s heartbeat rushing in her own ears, hear each minuscule change in his breathing. The only immediately visible effect the change caused was her tail carriage. It went from forming a limp, large curve between her back legs to gradually tightening up into a tight corkscrew over her haunches. Her center of gravity sunk a few bare inches to strengthen her core. Her gaze was suddenly sharp and blank; the light from before, like when she’d dragged him through the snow, or glared at him from the van floor, was gone. Before him now, stood a creature with no proper, deep thought process, just instinct to survive and basic minor human thoughts. Before him was a machine, capable of human thought and action, but unable to feel anything; except maybe the red of rage.
"You will not touch me," she said, so simply, with no emotion. But she said it in a way that made it seem she was talking down to a bug between her toes. ”You wish to help, you say,” she snapped, ”you back sliding bastard, he told me never to trust those not of my own,” her voice growing louder and darker. Her vision was gradually beginning to blur, the world around them warping from the ice covered yard to snow covered mountain tops.
Please, let me offer my pack’s assistance.
Saranna shook her head vigorously, closing her scarred right eye when vision in it became painful, taking a cautious step back and then another and another. ”You wish to help, I have told you by no fault nor wish of my own, and that doing so would put you in danger. Haunt has seen you with me. The damage is done. I warned you, you know what I am, who is after me and exactly what they want and are willing to pay for me alive. You grew angry when I turned your offer down. Now you threaten me when I accept? Threats will do you no good, werewolf, because they only promise something that I have wished for since I was born.”
Malekai’s form shifted from bipedal to quadrupedal, complete with a snarky laughing facade, burning ice eyes and glimmering teeth. ”He said that, once.” she whispered harshly, her voice low in her throat. Before she realized what was happening, reality blurred away for good. ”His words said he’d help, but his body language, his tone...he did the opposite.” She bared her teeth in a defensive display. She would not go back. She wheeled about, nearly slipping in the blood under her paw from her bleeding stab wound. A figure rose from the ground and his teeth descended upon her face.
Her world was agony and fire and blood.
’I will not scream. I will not cry. I will not struggle.’
An age old mantra that kept her going through the months of torture and rape at the hands of Cephus.
As her mind spiraled down into the memories farther than it had ever gone before, her body fell to the icy ground. Bloody froth bubbled from her lips (metal teeth turned upon owner gums), her eyes were locked wide, her body thrashed helplessly, locked in the throes of the seizure like catatonic episode.
’I will not scream. I will not cry. I will not struggle.’
Amount: 1,032 Notes: a tad bit more like the normal Saranna Muse: EXCELLENT Outfit: NONE Tune: “The Beacon” by A Fine Frenzy Tags: DYZZ/ Malekai
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