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Post by Deleted on May 9, 2019 19:53:51 GMT -8
SITTER SILAS
Silas had entered the commons with Adramalech and the rest, his own eyes dropping slightly. The Alpha took the pups into his own den, he vaguely heard the command to sleep. Nodding his head he looked for a small place to sleep outside. He didn't want to walk back through tunnels to find his own makeshift hole he called a den and leave the pups for too long. So hunkering down, he finally relaxed enough in the open to slowly go to sleep. Silas vaguely wondered what would Vivaldi do if Beel harassed him. He also contemplated his relationship with Adramalech.
While the male was his Alpha, he did not strictly serve under the male as he did Vivaldi. Would he do as the male commanded, yes, but only to avoid his wrath. So far, though, he had yet to give him any orders. He laid his head down and finally closed his eyes to sleep.
Timeskip to Nightfall
Silas awoke a while ago and had left when he made sure the pups were still sound asleep. He only did this by listening, and the den was still except for breathing. He had left to hunt a single vole for himself. The group was cannibalistic and by assuming, tonight would be the pups first taste of wolf. Which meant they wouldn't need to have another round of live vole. The small meal was enough for him and by the time he returned, Adramalech was already coming out of the cave. What great timing. He would eat wolf if Adra and Vivaldi expected him to, but he would not go out of his way to be in line to eat one. Wolf had yet to become an important part of his diet.
Vivaldi had yet to appear and he sincerely hoped she was having a good time. He hoped she would get back in time for the tournament, he was sure she would enjoy watching the bratty kids get shredded. How morbib Silas must be to find her most attractive at her cruelest.
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Post by Deleted on May 10, 2019 18:45:13 GMT -8
The trip back had been pleasantly brief, a welcome relief from the monotonies pack life purveyed, Beel reckoned. Then again, how could Ignasia ever manage to be anything but fascinating? Every wolf embodied a distinct chaos, forever clashing feverishly against that of their packmates in a way he couldn’t help but find beautifully appealing. Perhaps what he admired most was that Ignasia had never forgotten its purpose. They knew their place in the world: to serve and rule alongside the greatest master the world had known, but they never forgot to find joy in simplicities; the thrill of the hunt, the rush of the kills, the ethereal taste of flesh. Ky and himself were of an oddly similar breed, forever craving the delights that’d driven them to their current lot in life. A salmon tongue swiped his lips in hunger. Tonight, he’d feast. Yet for now, he’d retire to his den for some much-needed sleep.
Time Skip To: Nightfall
He awoke ravenous. Long-unsated cravings licked at his innards; thunderous, restless thoughts hurtling through him. Slowly, Beel slipped his jaws open, arching the ashen joint until his tongue curled. Carefully, he cracked each limb, rising onto rigid paws as fantasies boldly festered. Tonight, they purged the dullness that reality had rendered theirs; replacing it with prospects of the fantastic, perfect future they and they alone were capable of crafting. Marvelous — and he and Ky had every intention of playing their part to the fullest tonight. Who knew what they would gather? Perhaps a pair of prisoners to bend, break, and mold anew, or a warrior every bit as bloodthirsty and brutal as they, or a breeding bitch to wonderfully toy with; all gifts they’d garnered before. Tonight, they’d push their boundaries, far beyond fickle previous attempts into the relatively unknown. The air itself as he exited his den was delicious, inviting, crisp. Only symbolic of good things, he was certain.
Adramalech had already emerged with every bit of the regality he was accustomed to. His commands were simple. “Gather your pups and follow me.” His single hewn ear twitched in trepidation as he ran his tongue over his scars, the sunken, empty socket. It was time he buried this bastard litter. Perhaps if his relationship had taken another turn, he would have felt a sliver of sadness at bidding his first pups farewell — but this was fortunately not the case. This, now this was for their own good, the opulent destruction of the final remnants of Suki’s traitorous heritage. They — all of them —were infected with her toxin, her lust, her greed. It was only a matter of time before it bled into others. As he ambled towards the den, he noted his daughter had departed, the first prompt, semi productive act she’d done. Miracles truly did exist, but only in tragically ironic cases. His sons, however, remained parasitic to their bitter end, lounging about in the positions they’d assumed that morning. He regarded the pair with disgusted, overt distaste. “Rise.” He snarled. “Adramalech’s word.”
As he rose, he realized he’d nearly forgotten the most important part. “Oh Ronin~” he cheered, singing out sweetly. “We’re going to see a show.” He paused a moment to glower, take in the frail, bone-thin form. “Perhaps dinner?” He quipped, maintaining a coy air of almost cartoon obliviousness. Ronin had reached a critical point; now or never, some would say. Oh, he’d been trying, most certainly, but could a half-starved male truly resist the scent of blood, the sharp, fresh sizzle of flesh? He’d foam, quiver, feverish with delirium — and then cave, burying his jaws in guts. The sort of transformation he’d always imagined, but would now, for the first time, watch come to fruition.
He simply couldn’t wait.
Exit to: The Cave Systems
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Post by Deleted on May 12, 2019 11:25:48 GMT -8
It was incredible how drastically things could change in the span of a single season.
Vivaldi was vicious, more so than she’d ever imagined her to be, but she’d expected such from a queen of Mortiul. From the instant she set foot in her lands, she’d been subjected to her rule, as vicious and violent as it may’ve been. While it had initially been a less than ideal transition, perhaps it’d been in her interests. It’d been difficult certainly — borderline unbearable — but she had endured, just as she had sworn she would. For the first month of training, Vivaldi had focused solely on bolstering her strength, having her leap through snow drifts, bolt through blizzards, spend night upon night in the frost, positively frozen. It had been hard arduous work, but she’d done it without tears. Except for that time Vivaldi had ordered her, when her fangs had fully grown in, to slaughter a nest of rabbit kittens. (She’d mourned for three and a half hours.) As terrified as she’d been of her initially, Vivaldi was not a cruel master, not inherently. She was brutal, and stern, and unfeeling at times, but everything she did served some sort of purpose. Perhaps that was the reason she’d always sought to please her: to fulfill the newfound meaning she’d given her life.
And, as harsh as her methods had been, they’d worked. Within the season, she had suddenly blossomed into herself, developed that drastic growth spurt Mama had always vowed would one day come. Yes, Tiny wasn’t tiny anymore. In fact, if she had done her calculations correct, she would soon stand shoulder to shoulder with Alpha Adramalach, every bit as big and strong as her father had been in youth. She chuckled softly at the absolute painful irony of it all. All this time, yearning for height, and now that she had it, she’d no idea what to do with it. She felt awkward, gangly, odd, always out of place and Beelzebub’s children had eaten her alive. They didn’t pay her much mind now, since their father had picking fights more and more frequently, but when they were all alone, they’d have their fun. She bore it all good-naturedly. In childhood, her mother had always emphasized the importance of acceptance — acceptance of one’s place, acceptance of one’s lot, acceptance of the inevitable. Tiny had already accepted hers. Adjetni had granted her the mercy of purpose, allowing her apprenticeship under Vivaldi’s care. She’d no business, then, requesting the luxuries of his protection.
If she were to request anything though, it would be to see Mama. It had been long, so long, so horribly horribly long, and she hadn’t come by. Had she forgotten about her? The thought was almost too painful to bear. Tiny whimpered, turning over in her nest. Every night, she dreamed of her, her touch, her voice, her vivid, glorious, lovely green eyes. What she wouldn’t have given to have another evening together — even though Mother occasionally came to visit, she never brought her along, her, the only wolf Tiny really, truly wanted to see. When she’d pulled her aside to ask, she’d brought up Cayden, Cayden. Tiny scowled; a course, angered growl simmering in her throat. Damn Cayden. With Vivaldi whisking off that morning, she’d left her little choice but to bask in her nest, await further instructions, and fantasize about all the ways she would positively whoop Cayden’s ass. Perhaps it was wrong to be so envious, but she couldn’t fully conjure another reason that had quite hindered her reunion with Mama like him. Maybe, perhaps, if he apologized to her, she would let him off with a soft apprehensive snarl. Yes, that’s what she would do! She rolled over contentedly, well satisfied with her new plan.
Suddenly, there came a clamor in the Commons. Reluctantly, she rose from her nest, poking her puce head outside. Adramalech had gathered every wolf in Mortiul and appeared to be sending them all off on some sort of mission. She looked around hesitantly. Vivaldi hadn’t given her any orders to, but if there was one wolf she should ever obey (other than Vivaldi) it was Adramalech. Perhaps it’d be for the best if she followed.
So she did just that.
Exit to: The Caves
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Mortiul
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Pup
Male
6 Months
0 Likes
11 Posts
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Post by Apprentice Leyak on May 14, 2019 16:40:30 GMT -8
The little bundle of white fur with pitch black eyes followed his father contently into the common grounds, the area that he had yet to explore much of. That would be saved for a different time however, as it seemed that today was mostly about business and whatever his father thought he needed to see. The mention of battle had him curious. He had heard stories from his mother, and although he didn’t particularly find too much interest in the smaller details, the potential fights that his mother talked about were soon to be right in front of him. Black depths looked towards the children that were his cousins, seeing as they were all but incapable. He had heard enough from his father and uncle to know that they weren’t worthy of being in the ranks, and although he would have liked to at least know their names, he was content with having them remain nameless, or have him forget their names. Maybe in the future, when Leyak was older, he could use this tournament as a way to scare his subordinates. The little pup was already thinking too much about this, as the wheels turned in his brain, following his father almost like a mindless drone while he thought of the future and what it would hold. He snapped back to the present once he heard his father command them to sleep, and beckoned to an area where they would be able to lie down. Leyak would only have his brother’s warmth, his mother being gone. He wondered if his mother had shared this den with Adramalech at one point, seeing as they did have children together. He wondered if that would ever happen, their mother and father in one den, while the two pups were nestled at her side, basking in the warmth that four bodies provided. But by the way his parents acted, there wasn’t anything like that there, and he knew that there never would be. He would have to be okay with just Aamon, the only wolf he ever really needed to be honest. -Timeskip- He was lost in his dreams, visions of blood and the carcass of the vole from before being replaced with the wolf that he had yet to torment, the one that Beelzebub had brought along as their playtoy. Visions of tearing his limbs from him slowly filled the young pups mind, although the only hint that he was dreaming was the twitching of his paw ever so often. He was awake and ready when his father nudged his head, learning from an early age that not waking up only got you a nip to the neck, or worse. Eyes blinking and adjusting to the darkness that had fallen since he had slept, he looked towards Adramalech, who waited patiently for the two pups before he headed out of the den, approaching Beelzebub who was surely awake, and stating that he drag his children along and off they went. Leyak was going to be seeing more of the territory, and his first battle among wolves. The little pup was rather excited, although he stayed complacent and silent on the outside, not uttering a word as they headed towards the cave where the blood of his pack members would be shed, and he’d feast on his first wolf. -Exit- @silas Alpha Adramalech @aamon @beelzebub |
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Somnus
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Sentinel
Female
2.5 Years
16 Likes
83 Posts
It's always "wyd" it's never "what Louis Vuitton bag you want?"
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Post by Sentinel Aelin on Jun 1, 2019 23:00:08 GMT -8
- NOTE -Beta Violet 's internet has died and she was unable to put up Adramalech's post. Being the incredible site owner that she is, she wanted to get this done by the deadline that she had set so that the roleplay isn't delayed any further. She sent me a screenshot to post for y'all, and she'll probably come along and repost it with Adra's account once her internet is fixed (: -- Timeskip: 4 Months --Adramalech woke, black eyes blinking as the morning light streamed into his den. He rose, stretched tired limbs as he made his way out of his den, not bothering to wake Sakia who was fast asleep in the corner. Looking out on the land, the snow was melting, spring would be there soon. Hopefully sooner than he expected. Adramalech sat down, letting out a howl as he summoned those who were in the commons. Kalia, if she knew better, would have been waiting not far from his den. He did not allow her the luxury of a den, and thus she had to sleep out in the cold. He had been chipping away at her bit by bit, hitting her to the core every single time she tried to act as if it didn't bother her. He would shake her to be his little toy, to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it. And he was getting there. Beelzebub had taken the two she-wolves from the group, and impregnated both of them, much to Adramalech's distaste. He knew that his brother wanted to make a better litter, but he would have liked to twist one of the pretty she-wolves to be left hanging on every word he spoke. Hopefully that would come soon with the little red she-wolf, Feyre. The other rogues were fitting nicely into his pack the bolstered numbers making for good rank fillers. He had yet to actually assign ranks, but he had some things in mind for each of the wolves. The strange alien wolf who was often hanging around Endymion - her name being Yvaine - was said to be good at killing. He would need to test that out. Another thing that had come to Adramalech that he was quite happy about was a long lost son. Ebony was his name. He had come with Flint to his pack, and after seeing the male, he knew he was the product of Adramalech. There was no way he couldn't be. He would need to discuss with the two about the information they possessed on the other packs, but for now, he would wait for everyone to wake before he started barking orders. |
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Post by Deleted on Jun 2, 2019 18:38:39 GMT -8
Timeskip: Four Months
The harsh winds of winter had relented over the four month time slot marking the arrival of Vivaldi’s dozen rogues. Nothing of note had transpired since that day. Of course the rogues were finally becoming fine members of Mortiul, and naturally friendships had formed and blossomed between the brutal and savage, none of which concerned him. Adramalach had seized himself a slave girl: a wavering blonde wisp that once upon a time, went by the name Kalia. Unfortunately, he expressed no intentions of breeding the bitch, which was an utter shame, for she was fairly pretty. Wasteful, but whatever Adramalach pleased was what Adramalach did. Others had taken advantage of the occasion, “exploiting” the breeding season to its fullest potential in the tenderest possible terms. Vivaldi was expecting again, a small, almost imperceptible bulge against her usually hard torso. This time, he was certain it wasn’t Adramalach’s. Silas wouldn’t have looked half so smug if it was. Ignasia, not to be done, was also expecting two litters of its own: Maleah and Marusya’s. God, the savages the latter would produce — he shuddered, firmly shutting out the thought. He’d produce his own powerful kin in time, something worth rivaling Adramalach’s Ebony.
Stubbornly, the two bitches he’d bred had refused to yield a single, tiny sign of pregnancy for the first two months. For all his anger, screeching, and thinly-veiled, furious threats, neither of them obliged the duty he’d given them — so he’d no other choice but to get creative. Every morning, evening, and afternoon, he’d lay siege to one of the two, than the other, one, than the other until somebody bothered showing a sliver of something tangible. Finally, it came, at the end of the second month. They’d both experienced the nausea, the loss of appetite, the retching; everything, every last symptom of pregnancy according to any salutary worth a lick. Feyre, the Noctis bitch, had been terrified. From the first instant she’d realized, he’d watched her pant and pace and sob quietly when she was sure nobody saw. The stress couldn’t have been good for his litter’s’ health — the miserable bitch, he should have beaten it into her — but alas, the beating came far too late. The girl miscarried five days into finding out she was pregnant to begin with; a long, arduous affair Ignasia’s shaman had to handle. From the moment she could stand again, he’d given her hell. Nothing less than what she deserved, the filthy murderer.
It was time to make his morning visit to the breeding den. Beel would never trust the brood-mothers on their own, not after the fiasco Ignasia had with Miyako, but fortunately, Ronin fulfilled the task of their guard quite suitably. He’d lessened his vice grip on the slave male these past few months, slowly granting him more and more privileges; the puniest slimmest pieces of favor, but it was enough. If he continued to do well, he’d alleviate him of slave status, and grant him something a bit more befitting of a beta’s apprentice. Perhaps he’d even grant him a bitch of his own. All he had to do was maintain his loyalty. He’d soon learn that his loyalty would inevitably win his master’s own. “Good morning Ronin,” he began, lingering in the entrance of the doorway. “I trust they both behaved themselves. No shenanigans I hope? Nothing needing correction?” He paused, awaiting his response with ragged, bared jaws. “Very well then. You’re dismissed for now. I’ll be calling back on you to escort them shortly. Take care.” With that, he jammed his shoulders into the den’s entrance, forcing himself through as he sealed off their sole ray of sunshine.
“Hello darlings.” He snarled, his voice already hardening into its intense, high-strung hysteria. He’d start with Feyre. “How are you?” He towered above her, angling his ashen head so his scars took full view, hopefully nauseating her. “Did you have pleasant dreams of your lost children? Did you fantasize about snapping their thin little necks in two? Did you romanticize the crush of their newborn bodies between your bloody jaws? ANSWER!” He growled horribly, forcing her to stammer out a reply. “I’m sure you thought you’d gotten away it too, idiot. I know you killed them. Didn’t you? Was just going to leave poor Lluise to carry your responsibility? Is that right?” Black fur bristled as he cuffed her face, hard enough to leave a loud ring. “Shame it won’t be so easy. May not be mine, but I’ll see to it that you pay your duties to Mortiul one way or another, even if it kills you. Now,” He paused, his eyes gleaming with desire. “The question is who to give you too. How about Ky, the Ignasian beta?” He sneered, fully aware that even the hardened wolves of Mortiul feared him to some extent. “What do you think? Maybe he’ll rip up that pretty face once he’s finished. Oh, better pray I change my mind, baby.”
“Of course I can’t forget Lluise.” Decisively, he positioned himself over her, forcing her to cower beneath his build. Lluise’s pregnancy had progressed fairly well. Well into the second month, her formally slim build had blossomed, her belly plump with pups. “I always said you were a smart girl. You kept your litter. Was that really so difficult?” Slickly, he slithered his tail around the swell of her stomach, burying his maw into an ivory neck. “Oh,” He purred, well pleased with his discovery. “Is that milk I smell on you? You’re closer than I thought. Just think, in a month — or less! You’ll bear me your first litter. The first of many.” He licked the base of her neck, lightly nipping her scruff. She may have squealed, or squiggled, or tried her absolute hardest to evade even the tiniest of touches, but to no avail; she was his now. “I trust you’ll do the right thing Lluise. I expect a large, healthy litter. You won’t disappoint me,” He panted heavily, his breath rattling the fur on the back of her neck. “Will you? You wouldn’t want to anger me,” He insisted. “Or even worse — disappoint me. No, no, no, none of us would want that, right?”
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Post by Deleted on Jun 2, 2019 20:43:34 GMT -8
 Salutary Iliana The last few months had been, to say the least, some of the most joyful in Iliana’s life. Marusya and Koga had welcomed her with open arms, their affection still taking her off guard at times. And to be appreciated for her burn scars! A source of discomfort for so long, now a matter of pride; signs that Adjetni Himself thought her worthy of his cause. Over the course of four months, the alpha couple had been slowly but surely training her in His ways, and her days were filled with memorizing rituals and prayers. She was still a salutary, but she knew her time to prove herself was fast approaching. Her skill in healing, at least, seemed vastly useful; both Ignasia and Mortiul were always collecting injuries like they were going out of fashion! It was to be expected, in packs this brutal, but it still had her traveling back and forth between the two commons with a frequency that had her paws aching.
Speaking of which, she was actually on her way to Mortiul now! The patchy pelted female had decided it was time to pay the two resident breeders a visit, and oh, surely a good meal would be in order! Maleah had expressed a desire to come along, and Iliana had happily chatted her ears off all the way to the hunting grounds. The motherly lupess had a gentle heart, and her kindness had drawn Iliana to her like a magnet. She herself was expecting, and so the white and cream wolf liked to dote on her with little gifts in the shape of the occasional rat or vole, and the oaken wolf hadn’t expressed an annoyance with her company yet. Upon arriving at the hunting territories, she had swiftly began sniffing around for prey as Maleah looked on - an affair that took far too long, in her opinion. On one memorable occasion, she had received a slice across her nose when she stuck her muzzle down a burrow in chase of a rabbit - but finally, finally, she had managed to close her jaws around the neck of a sizable marmot. Perfect! Meal caught, the two cultists had merrily continued on to the Mortiul commons.
Stepping into the cavernous structure that made up their home, Iliana glances around merrily for any familiar faces. She hadn’t bonded with many of these wolves, but Abaddon had remained a personal favorite of hers when it came to finding someone to talk to, and Silas wasn’t so bad as long as she didn’t step near his lady-friend - the Alphess herself. Cerulean gaze landing on Alpha Adramalech, she dips her head in respectful greeting, tail wagging in a far more enthusiastic hello should Abaddon come into view. Leaving Maleah to her own devices, the lissom scout ducks into the breeding den, only to pause briefly when she nearly bumps into the Beta’s rump. Catching the tail end of his words to the two breeders, she grimaces a tad; an expression that is gone before noticed. Besides, even if eyes were fixed on her face, her mouth was smothered by the marmot. Dropping the mammal at the two lady’s feet, she chirps out a cheerful, ”Oh, hello Beelzebub! Just here to check up on the misses’, give them a little something to munch - strong mothers make for strong pups you know!” Stretching the length of her body against Feyre’s, she presses the tip of her nose just under the line of her jaw - to feel for her pulse. And should this movement put the bubbly bitch between the Noctis wolf and Beel, well, that was pure coincidence of course! ”Heartrate normal, and I see the incident hasn’t had any lingering affects on your body. That’s wonderful!” Indicating that she should begin eating, the ditsy miss moves to Lluise.
Had the brute not moved away from the blonde she-wolf, Iliana would utter a bright ”’Scuse me, sir!” before pressing a soft cheek against the swell of Lluise’s belly. This far along, strong, healthy pups would begin to show signs of kicking, and - oh, there! - a feeble kick against her cheek, barely noticeable but there all the same. And of course, ”Oh, you’re correct, she does smell of milk! Everything is progressing as it should so far, miss Lluise.” Nudging whatever remained of the marmot towards the blonde, the Ignasian bitch would lay on her side just in front of the two, getting comfortable and tucking her limbs close to her frame. She would wait until Beelzebub leaves before beginning to speak. ”I know I can be naive at times, but I understand neither of you wanted this for yourselves. I don’t have the power to remove you from your situation, but please, don’t hesitate to ask me for anything. Food, a walk outside for the sake of your health- I’ll do my best to make it happen.” Though her voice didn’t quite lose its cheery tone, it did lower with the intensity of her sincerity. ”You in particular Feyre, things will look up for you I’m sure; Adjetni has shown favor in you.” She breaths with absolute conviction. new template yayyy |
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Mortiul
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Adramalech's Bitch
Female
1.5 Years
0 Likes
13 Posts
Remember when A Series of Unfortunate Events was a book and not my life
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Post by Feyre on Jun 3, 2019 0:15:34 GMT -8
Feyre felt like she was swimming in the soft grey light of morning as it spilled in through the entrance to her den and pooled around the resting bodies of herself and Lluise. Ever since she had miscarried all those weeks ago she had felt like she was floating in her own body, the guilt that came with her dead pups forced every other feeling from her body until she was left with nothing but the pain of her failure. Plus, she hadn't been sleeping properly ever since she arrived in Mortiul, her dreams being haunted by the usual never-ending pool of water that dragged her down to it's bottomless and void-like depths. But recently, the water in her dreams had been tainted with blood; her own blood. And from the water's rippling and taunting surface was the face of her rapist, sneering at her as she sank through the icy waters that she had grown to fear ever since her brush with death as a young pup. Every night when she drifted off to sleep she hoped that Luke would be there to pull her from her doom, saving her as he did that day that she had been welcomed into Noctis as his daughter. But he never came. And Feyre was beginning to loose hope that he ever would. Her fiery cranium was rested on outstretched paws as her lifeless grey eyes stared out into the mountains beyond their den. She had never even wanted a den, she had refused to claim her own place within this pack and call it her home. But they had forced her into this hole, trapped her and left a guard outside to make sure that neither could escape during the dead of night. Feyre shifted her gaze to look at Lluise, the she-wolf that had been unfortunate yet lucky enough to keep the pups that grew inside her stomach. She had been terrified when she found out that she was pregnant with the monster's pups. Feyre was so young and inexperienced, her body wasn't well nourished enough and the stress of even the thought of the monster was enough to cause her to miscarry early during the pregnancy. She was horrified when she woke in a puddle of her own blood, her stomach feeling void of life once again while the monster came racing at the first scent of blood. As soon as she had found the strength to stand after the ordeal, the monster beat her straight back to the ground again. Oh how she yearned to stand back up after he abused her like that, she wanted to scream and spit blood in his face and demand him to crawl back into the hellhole from where he came. But Feyre valued her life, and she knew that she would be killed for opposing the Beta. So she had kept her head down, continued with the image she had painted upon arriving in Mortiul. To them, she was nothing but an obedient and cowering girl, but Feyre had truely taken Varuna's advice. Her heart was no longer the same soft and warm thing that had belonged to the cheery and bubbly girl that pranced through Noctis, no, she had coated that heart with steel, and she refused to let them break her. Reality suddenly came crashing back to her, as if it had been pulled back from her on a rubber band and suddenly been sent snapping back with the catalyst of the monster's voice as he spoke to his slave, the male that guarded their den. Red ears twitched as she listened in to the conversation, taking this time to gently prod Lluise awake if she was still sleeping. Feyre knew how horrid it was to be awoken by the monster, and the ways in which he had pulled her from her sleep tugged at her stomach as the memories rolled past. Her small frame shivered at the mere thought of his touch. She wasn't given long to mull over these toxic thoughts, as the grey light that had illuminated their den was abruptly cut off by the massive figure of their oppressor, his half-torn face sneering at them from the entrance to their den. “Hello darlings.” His voice grated at her ears, but Feyre had learnt not to give him the pleasure of wincing away from anything that he did or said. Instead, she lay with nothing but granite hewn onto her fiery face. Even when he immediately turned to her, she refrained from flinching away from his gaze. “How are you? Did you have pleasant dreams of your lost children?" No. "Did you fantasize about snapping their thin little necks in two?" No. "Did you romanticize the crush of their newborn bodies between your bloody jaws?" No. "ANSWER!” Grey eyes glided up his figure, repulsed by every inch of his being, but disturbingly unwavering. "No." Lifeless was the best way to describe her voice, drained and lethargic. She had never put any energy into her words for a monster like him. "I dreamt that I was drowning, the blood of my pups surrounding me, the weight of my failure dragging me down." Feyre explained truthfully, though she knew he would not care about what went on in her head, he was only concerned about the lack of use she had become, despite his own many failures at impregnating her in the first place. “I’m sure you thought you’d gotten away it too, idiot. I know you killed them. Didn’t you? Was just going to leave poor Lluise to carry your responsibility? Is that right?” Feyre's brow furrowed at these words, hurt by the reminder that she had left Lluise to struggle with this herself. These thoughts didn't last too long as they were suddenly thrown from her head with the fierce connection of the monster's paw to her skull, a blow across the cheek strong enough to split the delicate skin beneath her golden fur. She gasped at the impact, at the ringing pain that echoed through her head, at the warm sensation of blood slowly dripping down her rounded cheek. Feyre knew to keep her head down after that, not wanting the monster to see the real damage that he had done, not wanting him to pride himself in the pain that he had caused. “Shame it won’t be so easy. May not be mine, but I’ll see to it that you pay your duties to Mortiul one way or another, even if it kills you. Now, the question is who to give you too. How about Ky, the Ignasian beta?” Feyre's next breath was stuck in her throat at the reminder that she was nothing but a breeder, a pretty little prize to be passed around as the males pleased. But the thought of Ky putting his paws on her...she knew that his methods would be much more painful than the monster's. She knew that the Ignasian Beta liked to cause pain, she had seen it in his eyes whenever he had payed a visit to Mortiul, which is why she prayed she would be able to stay as far away from him as possible. “What do you think? Maybe he’ll rip up that pretty face once he’s finished. Oh, better pray I change my mind, baby.” Baby. She hated when he called her baby. She had grown to hate the pet name with her entire being, especially the way that he said it. But for now, she could only be grateful that he had finished berating her, and had moved on to Lluise. His words for her were no better, and Feyre had to close her eyes to avoid watching that darting tongue of his as it slid across her throat, looming over the top of her. Just watching it out of her peripherals made it feel like he was pinning her down again, pressing himself onto her, licking her own neck as he had done so many countless times. Her frame shivered at the ghostly presence she felt over her body as the memories replayed in her head. Another figure was standing in their den, Feyre's grey eyes hovering upwards to look upon the patchy white frame of Iliana. Something like relief crashed over her at the sight of the healer, a rodent being dropped at her paws. Feyre liked Iliana. She had decided this upon the fifth incident of her coming to check on the pair of breeders. She had always brought them small meals, making sure they were well fed enough to sustain their fragile bodies. Plus, the Ignasian cultist seemed to have taken an interest to Feyre in particular, though the young girl had yet to figure out why. For now, all she could do was gratefully take the rodent that had been gifted to them, taking a small portion for herself and leaving a majority of the meat for Lluise. The pearly she-wolf was eating for more than just herself, so Feyre believed it was only fair that she eat most of the meal as she nudged it in her partner's direction, trying to distract her from the looming presence of the monster. As usual, Iliana had pressed her nose up against the base of Feyre's jaw. The first time the healer had done this, the young girl had jumped away from her touch, her skin still crawling as she could no longer connect the sensation of touch with anything other than the times that the monster would force himself on her. But after four months of these routine checks, Feyre had become somewhat used to the feeling of Iliana's nose as she pressed against her pulse. She continued to keep her head lowered as long as the monster remained in the den, still refusing to let him see the small trail of blood that had curled down her cheek. It was only once he was long gone that she looked up, her dull eyes resting on the kinder figure of Iliana as she spoke. ”I know I can be naive at times, but I understand neither of you wanted this for yourselves. I don’t have the power to remove you from your situation, but please, don’t hesitate to ask me for anything. Food, a walk outside for the sake of your health- I’ll do my best to make it happen. You in particular Feyre, things will look up for you I’m sure; Adjetni has shown favor in you.” Feyre was unaware of who this 'Adjetni' was, and had never really been brave enough to ask who he was or why he favoured her in particular, but she nodded gratefully to the healer, finding a small amount of comfort in her supportive words. "Thank you," she replied, her tones softer then she had previously used to speak to the monster. The peace that had returned to the den was soon interrupted as a familiar howl echoed through the air, Feyre's red ears twitching as she was instantly looking to the mouth of the den. "The Alpha is calling," she noted before looking back to Lluise. "Do you need help getting up?" She asked the pregnant she-wolf, knowing that she might need support while lifting her swollen body from the ground. If her fellow breeder obliged in her offer for help, Feyre would of course be there to help ease her onto her paws, but if she rejected the offer, Feyre would nod curtly and leave the den without another word, giving Lluise the room she needed. The gilded female wasted no time in approaching the Alpha, sitting as far away as one would expect from a useless breeder such as herself, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself from the other superiors. Grey eyes rested at Adramalech's paws, curious as to what he had planned for everyone today, and curious to see if he would look at her again with a gaze that was different from any other in Mortiul. @beelzebub Breeder Lluise @iliana Alpha Adramalech |
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Post by Deleted on Jun 3, 2019 17:22:46 GMT -8
. : Time Skip : Four Months : .
A mountain of dark fur shifted as Abaddon stirred at the first appearance of morning light. The brute rolled off of his side with a deep groan, honeyed eyes blinking at the pale glare. The world was gray as he pushed himself into the morning beyond his den, with the first rays of gold only just beginning to appear over the horizon. The male glanced around the commons; they were mostly bare, so early in the day. The snow on the ground was little more than a slick, slushy mess at this point. The air was crisp, but not unbearably so; spring was well on its way. Four months, he had been with this pack. It was so very different from Melek’s, but he had enjoyed himself. For all the brutality his superiors had displayed, Abaddon had found himself surrounded by wolves who could match him stride for stride and strike for strike. Their histories dripped as red as his did, and even if most didn’t know the details of his past, there was no judgement. Adramalech and Vivaldi, of course, he held in high regard; they were stern and capable leaders, and they commanded the respect of their wolves. There were, of course, downsides; Beelzebubs rambling insanity kept him on edge, though he would never admit that, and he had made no secret of his disdain for Endymion. There were daily annoyances, but they were balanced out by better moments. The months had offered him plenty of time to catch up with Silas, and had offered him new bonds. Glancing around, the mountainous brute caught sight of the ashen beta ducking into the den assigned to the breeders. Abaddon huffed; it had been an unfortunate fate that pair received - Feyre in particular, after her miscarriage. The male shifted his gaze, and found himself greeted by a much more pleasant sight: a small female was prancing into the commons, her scarred ivory pelt shining under the dawn light. Iliana’s face was bright as she caught sight of Abaddon. The brute dipped his head to her, even smiling a bit as she approached. The little she-wolf had grown on him in the past months. He’d seen quite a lot of her, as her talents as a salutary were shared between Ignasia and Mortiul, and his irritation with her had worn off over the course of her many visits. She reminded him of Peia more than he cared to admit; her eagerness for a conversation at all times and her willingness to listen to Abaddon’s few words was achingly familiar, but not unwelcome. The male took a few steps forward to greet Iliana, but she was already ducking into the breeders’ den. She must have been there to check up on Feyre’s recovery and Lluise’s progress. Abaddon turned away, scanning the commons for any sign of Silas. His friend, however, had yet to appear. The camp was still mostly empty, quiet save for the shrieking of birds arriving early for spring. A flash of inky movement caught the brute’s attention, turning his eyes toward none other than his alpha. Adramalech had emerged from his den, and was now tilting his head back to release a summoning howl that echoed across the slumbering commons. Abaddon began to turn toward the leader, casting a glance back toward the breeding den. Feyre was emerging from the shelter and approaching the alpha, though she gave him a wide berth. The brown male began padding that direction, still watching the den. If Iliana emerged, he would offer his friend a gesture welcoming her to join him so that he might greet her properly once Adramalech had finished speaking. If not, he would take a seat alone not far from the alpha, somber eyes watching intently as he awaited the morning’s announcements. |
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Mortiul
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Protector
Male
4 Years
1 Like
13 Posts
Scent: Firewood Height:4’4 Length:6'6 Weight:250lbs
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Post by Protector Bishop on Jun 3, 2019 18:07:32 GMT -8
[googlefont="Griffy"][googlefont="Abel"] SEARCHING IN THE DARKNESS WE ARE CREATURES OF THE NIGHT RUNNING FROM THE DAY Bishop roused lazily at his alpha's howl, rolling from his side onto his stomach before pushing himself to his paws. The Protector had been awarded his title not too long after their test, the alpha seeing his ability to observe a dangerous situation defend his pack with his life. Whilst out on a hunt, an elk decided to try its luck, targeting Adramalech, but Bishop intervened. The brute crashed his body into the elk, staggering it and allowed the other wolves to finish it off. The alpha was impressed with his quick thinking and offered the title, which Bishop had happily accepted. Now, his job was to follow closely behind his alpha and do as his title suggested. Protect. Of course his duties also lay with Vivaldi - the bitch that had sneered at his mention of loyalty and bonds - now she would see just how much those traits would help her in life or death situations. And Beelzebub, the onyx, split faced demon who seemed to be collecting females to add to his ever lasting list of litter incubators. Finally, the mottled brute made his way out into the clearing, taking his place beside his alpha, a few paces away as to not invade his space, bicolored eyes falling upon his new pack, face set in stone, he stood prepared to lay his life on the line. Alpha Adramalech @beelzebub @ehhhh   |
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Mortiul
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Paladin
Male
3.5 Years
0 Likes
18 Posts
Whoops, my god complex was showing.
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Post by Paladin Endymion on Jun 4, 2019 0:04:13 GMT -8
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Paladin Endymion
The Purity in arrogance
-- Timeskip: 4 Months --
Just like every other day, Endymion rose with the sun. As soon as the first trickle of morning light had slipped into his den he had been awake and ready for the day, sitting in the cool mountainous air as he watched the darkness fade from the ground of Mortiul.
The last four months had possibly been some of the best in his life. The male had quickly been promoted to the rank of Paladin after proving his strength and skill to the Alpha during multiple sparring sessions. He had been more than happy to receive such a prestigious rank, but he was less than thrilled to be answering to the General, who was a young girl with arguably less experience than himself. Endymion had kept his mouth shut however, knowing that the young General probably only held such a rank because of the closeness that she shared with Adramalech. Hell, the girl had even been sharing his den. But he didn't want to start any trouble with a situation like this, knowing that he might very well end up in the same position as those pups in the caves if he decided to oppose the Alpha's little bitch.
But other things had happened during his time in Mortiul, one exciting moment being the very apparent rivalry between himself and Abaddon. God, Endymion had practically began crawling in his skin out of sheer delight when he noticed the hateful looks pointed his way from the ebony brute, craving the feeling the male's jaw around his throat, or the other way around. Whatever. He just lusted for that rush of endorphins that flooded through his head whenever some measly sense of feeling was inflicted upon him, which is why he loved causing pain, taking pain, and the joys that could be teased out of a female.
Golden light soon enough draped itself over the mountains of Mortiul, pulling wolves from their den with it's glowing touch. He watched with a crystalline gaze as one wolf in particular made a move through the Commons; the slightly smaller form of Beelzebub as he wreaked the normal havoc upon the two prized breeders. He had delighted in hearing their squeals echo out of that den whenever the Beta decided they deserved his wrath. He had wished so deeply that it was him inflicting that joyous trauma to those pitiful bitches. But alas, Endymion had yet to be gifted with a slave of his own, nor had he been given permission to have his own way with one of the breeders. The two sluts belonged to Beelzebub, and he clearly still had to prove he was worthy of being gifted his own slave.
More movement closer to the centre of the Commons had his ears twitching as he knew what was to come, the all too familiar howl of Alpha Adramalech ringing through the crisp air and catching every drop of his attention. The Paladin was quick to his paws, trotting towards the raven Alpha and sitting amongst the gathering audience. Of course, he was sure to throw a dashing smile towards Abaddon if he dared to look, knowing how well the male would love to see such a debonair display that he usually reserved for the she-wolves he loved to chase. But for now, he sat readying himself for whatever wonders the Alpha had planned for today.
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Mortiul
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Mercenary
Female
4 Years
3 Likes
18 Posts
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Post by Mercenary Yvaine on Jun 4, 2019 17:12:05 GMT -8
-Timeskip: 4 months- Quickly they had moved from the caves after the death of another male, a slave she didn’t care to learn the name of. She had feasted on his meat and it was delicious. And it was probably the most useful thing he had done in his life, filling the bellies of his former pack mates. No matter, they had moved to the common area, where they were allowed to make dens. Lluise and Feyre were impregnated by Beelzebub, and Yvaine’s curiosity for Crimson grew even more as he showed his abilities when the Alpha pair had tested all of them. Ranks were followed along with that. Yvaine was named the Mercenary of the pack, being one of the only wolves that was able to carry out a death so swiftly that they hadn’t realized she had. Crimson was named as an assassin, someone she would have working underneath her. She brought him under her wing rather quickly, and was training him to become one of the best assassins. And in the process courting him with or without his knowledge. Alas, she also had been courting with the ignasia maned wolf, knowing all too well that she would produce viable offspring with him, one that would look, walk and potentially talk, just like her. She wondered if she’d be able to make a choice. But why should she? Yvaine was deserving of affection, whether it be from wolf or two. Her den was incredibly small, building it for her to store herself inside only during the colder months. She preferred to sleep in the outdoors when spring and summer were to come. And with the melting of the snow, it would come soon. She couldn’t wait to get out of the stuffy den. It was no place for her to be, and she hated every second she spent in it. The Alpha’s howl was the only other thing that had caught her attention besides the ever growing claustrophobia that she felt while finally relinquishing herself of the hollow hole she currently called home. Looking up to the black male, she noticed that Endymion was out of his den as well. He had been named Paladin, which was a fitting title for the male. It seemed they both had come here with a purpose, and fulfilled it. Hopefully they would be able to keep doing so. Looking towards Adramalech, she waited patiently for Crimson to come to her side, and for the hulking male to speak. Assassin Crimson Paladin Endymion |
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Mortiul
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Pup
Male
6 Months
0 Likes
11 Posts
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Post by Apprentice Leyak on Jun 4, 2019 22:32:37 GMT -8
-Timeskip: 4 Months- In the span of four months, he was already standing at a little under three feet, becoming heavier and heavier with muscles, and his body littered with scars as he relentlessly trained with his brother, father and mother. He had even dared take on his uncle, who had beat him of course. But not without a couple bite marks to take as a parting gift from the growing male. He had shaped up to be the prodigy his father had wanted, and his brother was a close second. Aamon, as they became old enough to disperse from the den their mother had kept them in, took to not having a den, instead residing out in the cold where he could visibly see Leyak’s den. Not that the black male’s white counterpart particularly minded, but alas, Leyak cared quite a bit for his brother, and wouldn’t want him getting too cold. Multiple times he had offered to dig Aamon a den, or to make his bigger so that he could keep an eye on Leyak like he wanted, but alas, he had declined. As Leyak opened black eyes that could frighten any soul, he blinked a couple times, looking at the faint light coming from above. Pulling himself out of his den, he noticed that his brother was not in his normal spot. The only thing he could think of was that he had gone to visit Mutt, the pup that he had claimed when they were small pups. Leyak had been to visit Hound not too long ago, talking with the male. He was planning on asking Koga if he was allowed to bring Hound back to his pack soon. Although Leyak was not one to treat him as an equal, he treated him with a good amount of professionality, but also familiarity. Unlike his brother who could not feel anything, Leyak was all too familiar with emotions now. He knew how they worked, how they affected them, and how they affect others. Although the last was still a work in progress. But his kindness towards Hound would make him more likable by the male, make him like Leyak enough to want to be around him than really refusing him. Upon his visits to befriend Hound more so than make him his slave, Leyak had become quite familiar with Imset, the one who had gifted him the pelt at the tournament where she slaughtered one of his useless cousins. As he grew, he became increasing intrigued by the she-wolf, going as far to bring her some food some mornings if he was feeling up to it. He wasn’t sure how to feel about Anubis. The she-wolf simply sneered or scoffed at the fact that he was bringing her twin some food, but he was trying to win over Imset and Anubis. If he was being honest, he would pair Anubis with Aamon. They would get together rather well with their matching attitudes. Leyak also had begun to pick up gifts and items that he had thought would fit Imset nicely. He had journeyed to the north, finding a coast where he found a beautiful thing that his parents had called a shell. It belonged to some crustacean that had grown out of it. It was quite large, and perfect for her. He had brought it to her on his last visit, giving it to her and telling her that if she put her ear to it, the sound of the ocean could almost be heard. He promised that he would take her to see the ocean one day, once they weren’t so busy with pack affairs and the upcoming war. They would live to see that day, he knew. Stuck in his daydreams, he looked to see that his father had risen as well, bringing himself to sit and wait for the pack to rise. It seemed that a few were already awake, and coming towards where his father was, a flock of chickens all waiting to be told what to do. He approached, seeing Sakia come out of his father’s den, why he kept her around he didn’t know. But there was something else on her face. Something unrecognizable. She had never liked him or Aamon, but for the sake of his father, she had kept that from bubbling too far to the surface. But alas, as she approached, she did not come to Adra’s other side from him. Instead she came straight for him. Without being able to react, she lunges forward, grasping his scruff between her fangs as she drags him down, vigorously shaking as she inches closer to his jugular. He looks frantically around, trying to react but to no avail, the little bitch would not let go. Blood came flooding from where her fangs pierced, and he finally was able to shake her off, but she was relentless. He reared up, trying to knock her away, knowing that he would need his father’s permission before killing her. As she latched back onto his scruff, she held fast, the male stumbling closer to where he could see his mother, hoping that maybe she could get the bitch off of him. Compared to a General, he was not very skilled in combat, and was having trouble. Embarrassing, but alas, he was trying his best. @vivaldi Alpha Adramalech @aamon Apprentice Imset Hound - all mentioned or interacted with |
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Mortiul
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Slave
Female
2 years
1 Like
18 Posts
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Post by Kalia on Jun 4, 2019 23:09:55 GMT -8
Timeskip: Four MonthsIf the four months since her entrance into Mortiul had taught Kalia one thing, it was how to sleep lightly. She was the first to wake each morning, though she never looked it; she kept her eyes nearly closed and her head pillowed on her paws, but she watched and waited for the members of the pack to start to stir, learning their habits and mannerisms, storing away any scrap of information, for who could say when she might need it? The nights had become her favorite time of day. She had no den of her own. That was a luxury Adramalech did not allow her, and at first she had resented it, like she resented almost everything he did when it came to her. But after she had grown used to the cold winter winds that whipped around her, she had learned to appreciate her nights alone under the stars. That was the only time when she could forget how far she had fallen and be the Kalia she once had been. Because, from the time she woke in the morning to the time the sun went down, she was reminded of her place. It was pointless to try to pretend the life of a slave was only a mask now; it had become her entire reality, save for the nights when she could once again focus on her hatred, steel herself once more to stay strong. Deep down, she knew she could not last forever. When she had first come to this pack, her goal had been never to break. Now she only hoped to stave off her shattering for as long as she possibly could. But she was beginning to waver. The hardships of her new life were taking their toll on her, forming her, despite her determination, into what Mortiul wanted her to be. Already she had developed a way of glancing around her, her eyes darting back and forth like a startled deer’s, always looking to see where the pack members were, always searching for danger and always expecting to find it. She was growing nervous, living constantly on edge, constantly in fear, and as much as she hated herself for it she could not pretend the fear away. She tried not to show it, tried to stay the stone-faced liar, impossible to read or interpret, but once in a while she was not able to hide the terror that leapt to her face when some incident occurred, and that was enough to let them know that they were breaking her. Little by little, they were changing who she was. And she was powerless to stop them from doing it. She had woken even earlier than usual this morning, when dawn had just begun to streak the sky with rose and russet. For awhile she had simply stayed where she was, enjoying the precious few moments of peace. Unfortunately, that peace did not last long. Adramalech’s howl cut through the stillness of the morning air as he emerged from his den. Kalia made no movement; she tried to keep her early-morning observations of the pack a secret, lying still as long as she dared. He would see her if he glanced around him, he would know she had not tried to run. Someday I will, Kalia told herself, but the thought did not fuel her hatred as it usually did. Her resistance was wearing out, and she knew it. The next wolf to make his appearance was the scar-faced Beta. Kalia had learned to fear that one, and after seeing what he had done to both Feyre and Lluise she had gone out of her way to avoid him. Maybe she would eventually accept the life of a slave, maybe there was no help for that, but she was still determined to at least avoid a breeder’s fate. That much she would still fight tooth and claw for. The Beta was obviously making his daily trip to the den of the two breeders, with the Ignasian salutary entering it soon after him. Kalia had seen him do it countless times, and she had heard some of the goings-on that took place. She knew Feyre had miscarried, and that the Beta had been angry about it. She knew that the pitiful wolf who guarded the two was technically a slave like she was, but now seemed to be something halfway between slave and pack member. And she knew for a certainty that she never wanted to find out what else went on in that den. The next to emerge was the dark, hulking shape of the wolf called Abaddon. He was one of the few that Kalia didn’t mind. He never said much, and he seemed to keep to himself a great deal of the time. He never took much notice of her, it seemed, and that much Kalia was grateful for. Coming under the eye of a Mortiul pack member, she had learned, never ended well. Abbadon was followed by the Protector, a mottled gray male with mismatched eyes. Kalia barely knew anything about him, and so watched him with a special curiosity, but she learned nothing that set him apart in her mind. The Paladin, Endymion, was next. Kalia had already taken notice of him, simply because of how much time he spent around Yvaine. She had not seen enough of him to fear him, but she had to admit that something about him unsettled her. She was always nervous when he was around, almost h she did her best to hide it. Unsurprisingly, Yvaine herself, the pack’s Mercenary now, followed close behind. How dim and faded and pointless the small hostilities between Kalia and Yvaine seemed, at least in Kalia’s mind, now that she had learned how much worse things could become. Some days Yvaine’s presence still irked her, still sparked bitterness that, as Yvaine had once threatened, she had become the plaything of the alphas. But she knew better than to antagonize the alien wolf. She was next to nothing in their eyes now; the Mercenary would likely pay no attention to her. Even if she did, the punishment for such an act would be swift and severe. No, as things stood she could only stay quiet, building up her stores of resentment and hatred, but even these last lifelines were beginning to fray. Other wolves were showing their faces now- one of the alpha’s sons whose name Kalia didn’t recall, who quickly proceeded to get into a rather one-sided spat with the pack’s General. And, to Kalia’s surprise, the fiery form of Feyre. Kalia still refused to approach Feyre and Lluise, even though they were the closest thing to her own rank. She still looked down on the two, still saw herself as being better. She had gotten the idea in her head that if she approached the two weak, pathetic she-wolves, if she tried to make friends with them, it would be easier for Mortiul to make her like them, to break her and leave her cringing and cowering. In all probability that would happen anyway, and soon, but Kalia would keep it at bay for as long as she could before she gave in. Slowly she rose to her feet, edging over to where the rest of the wolves had gathered and hanging back at a distance appropriate for her rank. She had no idea what the day would hold, and she could only hope it passed quickly so she could return to the welcome solitude of the night hours and be her true self for a little while longer. Alpha Adramalech @beelzebub Feyre Breeder Lluise @ronin @iliana @abaddon Protector Bishop Paladin Endymion Mercenary Yvaine Apprentice Leyak @sakia @anyoneelse
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Post by Deleted on Jun 4, 2019 23:19:09 GMT -8
 || 4 Month Timeskip||
Four months: though not a long time in and of itself, it was enough to add another year to Vivaldi’s life. At four years of age, the bitch was by no means creaking at the joints; if anything, she was beginning to reach her prime. All the same however, she feels the passage of time keenly, as it had not been too long ago that she was some rogue sparring for her place among Adramalech’s ranks. Stretching languidly from where she lay idly in her den, the lupess rises to her paws and emerges from the private structure. A few wolves had already gathered, Adra and her son among them. No doubt her alpha was about to delegate tasks for the day. Aamon was nowhere to be seen, presumably visiting his little mutt over in Ignasia. No matter.
The new wolves she had brought back had began to slot into place nicely, Yvaine and Endymion proving to be particularly useful. Bishop was no slouch either; though she still thought the brute a distasteful thing, she could not deny his usefulness in acting as their personal meat shield. Snorting ever so slightly, she turns her attention to a more familiar figure: Silas. Though at first he had been an annoyance, a sitter with an inconvenient infatuation, she found that over the course of four months he had proven to be a...pleasurable enough companion. He had a dark wit, when she grant him use of it, one that occasionally - very occasionally - brought a smile to her face. Public touch was more an indulgence than a reward these days, and private touch - well. Bringing herself over to his side, she winds her body sinuously around his before coming to rest at his side, pressing her lips to his ear. ”I’ll be needing to speak with you later.” Though it was only the early stages, her body was beginning to change in ways she knew well. Yes, a talk was in order.
Her gaze is snatched from Silas by a sudden blur of action near the center of the commons. Sakia had grabbed Leyak by the scruff, shaking him about and daring to stain his pristine pelt with blood. Her son manages to shake her off, rearing up and paws poised to knock her away, but there is hesitation in his frame, and she remembers: he would need his father’s blessing to really harm the bitch. And so, Sakia manages to grip him by the scruff again, assault continuing.
Vivaldi is tense with momentary indecision. On the one hand, this was valuable combat practice for the boy, but on the other: Sakia’s intents are malicious, and if this were allowed to continue, she didn’t doubt the spiteful brown bitch would take her son’s life. Her decision is sealed when Leyak’s gaze meets her own. Springing into motion, the frost-kissed alphess rears up, forelegs descending like hammers upon Sakia’s cranium; the first blow dislodges her from Leyak’s neck, the second sends her stumbling away. ”You may think Adramalech’s protection grants you certain privileges, but attacking his heir is not one of them.” Her voice is booming in the quiet of the cave. ”Would you say her use has expired, Adramalech?” Hellish orange eyes turn to that of the raven brute’s, and the small nod he gives her is the only permission she needs. Lunging forward, her jaws snap closed just shy of Sakia’s face, spittle flying as the oaken she-wolf scrambles away from the attack. However, a second snap of her jaws result in a satisfying pop as upper fang pierces a soft eye, lower canines gouging into a soft cheek and tearing as Vivaldi shakes her head to and fro.
The result is a gaping hole in the general’s face.
Choked cries like a sweet melody in the alabaster she-wolf’s ears, the scarred female uses Sakia’s distraction to her benefit, darting in low and closing her maw around the female’s neck. Rearing up, she forces the bitch to rear with her lest her fangs pierce the delicate artery at her throat; it is then a simple matter to throw her off balance, get her on her back. Oh, how the alphess had waited for this! How many months had she endured Sakia’s smug countenance, the disrespect afforded her sons. Her appeal had been her Ferus background, something more blooming soon after and drawing Adramalech in. A weakness, a distraction, and now - nothing. The arterial spray as the bitch rips out her throat is extensive, and Vivaldi watches with dull satisfaction as the life drains from the bitch’s remaining eye. Swinging her cranium towards the gathered wolves to gather their reaction, she would flick her tail dismissively and lick the blood from her muzzle. How many moons had Sakia been with them? Far more than these new recruits, lovely new titles or not.
Let this be a lesson that the moment they stepped out of line, their fate would be the same: death.
”If your wounds still bother you by morning, Iliana will tend to them.” She utters to Leyak, hellfire gaze severe. ”I think it’s high time your training increased - along with your brother’s” Stalking back to Silas’ side, she sits down and drapes her tail loosely over his, knowing that such contact would please him to no end. Perhaps now Adramalech could get on with his business without interruption.
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