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atropine
Posted 04-28-2017, 05:06 PM | This post was last modified: 04-28-2017, 05:07 PM by Catori
Fire (Site Helper)
Catori
Fire Wolf
Female, 5.75
Endomorph
31 in, 113 lbs
116 ep
© tig

like it was all just smoke;; tentatively does she pass those familiar switchbacks as they inch along the spine of the world, little gains upon the fearsome teeth of the mountain itself. she remembers the way to the red republic well, the texture of its steps beneath long blind toes. how often had she studied these scapes from the lower slopes, dreaming of a mother, a brother, a lover, a husband? all the things that were gone like a candle extinguished. but not quite. her neck cranes, jaw settled snugly to the svelte silk of that bone-white throat, silver-veiled pate crowned by little more than the trophy of her own pride. here lingers the tomb of her warrior mother, here crumbles the throne of her once-consort, here the quarters of her beloved run to ruin. it is the country of her son, her beloved babe who tucked himself among the rocks and tore himself open against the might of others.

once, she'd sought to test herself. she'd quested, fortified, persevered -- that is all dust, swept to the well of her mind along with so many other broken things. down into the depth it tumbles, and finally settles away from sight. i want all those things for you. i want the world, all for you.

his name is laid bare on her tongue, a sweet rasp that gestures forth an accompanying figure to make her welcome upon their doorstep. those shining eyes, a poor match of opposing elements, stir with all the hope her dilapidated heart can give, skull crowned by the cresting peak of ears as they test the air with eager switches.
Roswell. Rykerri










Posted 04-28-2017, 07:13 PM | This post was last modified: 05-03-2017, 04:22 PM by Roswell
Rebel
Roswell
Rebel Wolf
Male, 2.75
Endomorph
37 in, 140 lbs
149 ep
© Apax

Rykerri Catori
still, he is swollen with a pride that consumes his step. an boy who had caught a girls number, he is still slick with a confidence that rides his head high and how he is still swallowed in her smell from that night within the caverns. a bath hadnt came to, and how her sweet aromas still were caught to the rebel sharp nose. the autunm heat sworn on his back, parched lips from exploration across the ridge. paws that stung from hot stones and his dry gum. it is with little time he swallows her. how the hunger that pinches his throat, the desperation for water and the tired toes are no more. mother! mother!

it's a smile that greets her, open arms that consume her in his growth. how he swarms her, to her right as he spots his aging mother. beauty in all, youthful, oh how he loved her. the top of his cranium aims to press into the curve of her neck, arching his neck down for her brining his bone close in all. there are questions that touch on his tongue but silence is all that is brought for that moment. an eagerness, as he clings for her touch. "you are home." quick, a statement that would bring him to squeeze her if he had arms to do such a thing. rebranding himself with the touch of a woman that was true to his blood, and not the smell of sex that stained him no longer.










Posted 05-07-2017, 07:56 PM |
Rebel
Charlotte
Rebel Alpha
Female, 5.50
Ectomorph
40 in, 100 lbs
399 ep
© Lou
ARE YOU READY FOR THE HELLHOUND;
They were her borders, so even if the call had not been originally for her, she ended up there anyway, because she belonged. Strong paws of iron padding bring her towards their boundary, trailing the scent of one of their teens; Roswell. She hadn't taken the time to pull him aside, too busy with life and raising a devilish daughter, but in this reminder she knew she soon would. "Roswell," she speaks his name clearly as she approaches, head high and ears lowered as her eyes skip his growing figure to lace around the womans'. Catori. Charlotte had seen her at the pits through the years, but she'd never obtained the womans name. She dips her muzzle, "the mother, I presume?" her tail flicks as her eyes drop to caress the pendant hanging innocently by her throat, Ice wolf.
"I am Charlotte Delrose," she says slowly, taking a seat across from the two and folding her long arms. "What can I do for you?" And as all things Charlotte; she was straight to the point.

Catori

Charlotte is riddled with scars from head to toe, the right side of her face is bare of fur, and both her ears are in tatters at the tips.










Posted 05-09-2017, 04:30 PM | This post was last modified: 05-09-2017, 04:37 PM by Catori
Fire (Site Helper)
Catori
Fire Wolf
Female, 5.75
Endomorph
31 in, 113 lbs
116 ep
© tig
uneasily, that blonde-fleeced form sways with the wind. she remembers waiting here once, plotting death, cowering from a crowned queen even as he cawed over her. so long ago -- yet she cannot shake that ache in her bones, the heaviness of uncertainty that hangs in each limb and compresses her chest with an eager embrace.

'شاید.' ( perhaps. ) it is so easy to give in, cave just a little bit to his charming smile and those strong arms even as she wraps her own around him and gives him a fond squeeze. 'do you really want me to? there's nothing to keep me, i suppose.' she contemplates it with a glow of pride -- that she would be welcome, and that the will of a god is so easily overcome with her own. still, that does not detract from her customary glace over of the boy. there is a moment of impatient tutting as she brushes the dust from his shoulders, from his cheeks, and from herself, before that grin is returned with a small peek of teeth. she seems more like a nervous girl than a woman, then.

there is time to softly murmur to him -- ''doret begardam, khers.' -- before they are interrupted. the mother. she is. and how she hates it. she huddles behind her baby boy, her form held so easily in the protective shell of his own as she peers over Roswell's shoulder at the approaching form of Charlotte.

'nothing -- nothing.' dismissive, soft and unobtrusive as she tucks her cheek against his brow, words half hidden in the man's thick pelt. 'I only wanted to see ros -- a-and maybe rykerri.'










Posted 05-10-2017, 05:20 PM |
Rebel
Roswell
Rebel Wolf
Male, 2.75
Endomorph
37 in, 140 lbs
149 ep
© Apax

Charlotte Catori
the excitement, how it burns through his skin. his cheek, his heart and how it seemingly explodes with joy. (such a mommys boy, you are, khers) in the name of tongue, it is a chill that inflates his spine. fur bristling for that brief moment as she speaks, as they embrace and he attempts to tuck himself into her as if he may. he notes her uneasyness in her words, the unsureness and he is doubtful of her true emotion. of his forcing hand to bring her home, but o would he protect her. the flood of memories from his enouncter with the fire boy so long ago had caught him. he did not trust the ice king, not with the hand of his mother. "you will be safe here, ma, with me" it's a quiet murmur, one that is lined with confidence and the near truth on a spiked tongue. she takes to grooming him, cleaning up the boy with wild hair and dirt on his cheek and he would let her briefly before attempting to pull away. an movement of age, the thought that he did not need his mother to tend to him.

suddenly, her words catch him in a brief moment. how his lips would begin to udder the same but were interrupted by the curt words of charlotte. the thin babe who he had still yet to learn to grow. he can feel his mother cowering, and it draws an ear to face sideways as she speaks. there is confusion laced on his face, for the fear and the stutter that is released from his mother's mouth. "ترسیده" (scared?) it's brief, nearly but a whisper as his muzzle takes to press into the base of her head just below her ear. he is little in awareness, appreciation, he is a soldier at the stand of respect for charlotte but a safety blanket for the white babe who clung to his hand.

he takes the time, where his mothers words end and before charlotte may take a word to speak for his own to clear his throat. "i'd like for her to stay here with me, " roswell would drag his tongue against his lip, electric eyes taking to that of charlottes with an narrowed intensity that almost dared her to refuse his request for the ground would split and she would learn how hot ones tongue could feel agaisnt muscle.











Posted 05-16-2017, 02:55 PM |
Rebel
Charlotte
Rebel Alpha
Female, 5.50
Ectomorph
40 in, 100 lbs
399 ep
© Lou
For half a second she watches the world around her fade away, and there is only the three of them and nothing more. Except she is an onlooker, and they have changed. It takes her a century to figure out she's looking at the very image of herself, and her mother cowering behind her. She blinks, startled by how real it had seemed, before Roswell and Catori shimmer back into existence and she is left with that same feeling she always had; emptiness. fool! she had watched her mother die, sat beside a body that slowly lost its' blood supply and grew cold. Before her father had returned to finish her off. She shakes her head, forcing herself back to reality in time to hear Catori's muffled words, what was that? oh, Rykerri, of course. No one came here to see Charlotte.

She lowers her hind end, hackles deflating as she sighs apologetically, she hadn't meant to scare the woman. "Don't be afraid," she whispers, emerald orbs finding the white womans gaze if she'd so return it. "Rykerri is around here somewhere no doubt," for now. she gestures over her shoulder towards the ridge to further her statement, that the auburn elder did in fact; live here. Her gaze shifts to Roswell, and she 'tuts' with tongue and fangs at his demanding tones, her head tilting in amusement. It is here that she finally remembers the girl, and she clings to the memory with frosted fingers. "You were Ruslan's," she remarks quietly, the image of Catori in that arena, pleading with her pack for his life, she'd never truly let go of him, or that day. Sucking in a strangled breath; she nods a moment. "You are welcome here, as all family are, as long as you agree to live under my rule once Rykerri leaves us." she falls silent, expectantly. There was no point pledging to a rule that would be short lived.

Catori

Charlotte is riddled with scars from head to toe, the right side of her face is bare of fur, and both her ears are in tatters at the tips.










Posted 05-20-2017, 02:23 PM | This post was last modified: 05-20-2017, 02:24 PM by Catori
Fire (Site Helper)
Catori
Fire Wolf
Female, 5.75
Endomorph
31 in, 113 lbs
116 ep
© tig
'هر ملكه قرمز' ( of every red queen. ) a honey murmur in the depth of her throat, more like the tumble of water than words and intended to be unintelligable to any listening ear other than his own. Her skin crawls with scattered memories of the formidable valentine queen -- cruel and ice-cold as her eyes. Her own girlish form had been diminished before such a formidable woman. And once that form of knife and bone had departed, she had turned tail and run, a smattering of stinging gravel pelting her stomach and the stain of red clinging to her finger-tips.

( where has your fire gone, little liongirl? ) she presses a warm breath to the arch of his heavy skull, lips tightened to a thin scar as Charlotte attempts to reasure her thrown confidence.

'he was mine.' her voice is a shard of steel, a spit of vitriol aimed at none but herself and those long abandoned. With such surety, she steps about the shoulder of Roswell, form turned into his own as if to claim ownership of the man. So intense is her stare -- that eye of liquid gold smoulders hungrily, and the other is dead-cold. Viscious, impassioned. flighty emotions freeze the woman's lips into a gargoyle's stoney snarl.

And then, as if something has snapped, broken free, the gem at her throat shatters into a thousand shards of stardust and fizzles into naught. It is clear, with this, that she accepts charlotte's words -- there is a tension to the woman, a flex that lowers her head across her throat in difference and defence against the rebel queen, though her draconic gaze does not lose one iota of ferocity. 'then, be fair -- it is all i've ever wanted, more than almost anything.'










Posted 05-20-2017, 09:22 PM |
Rebel
Roswell
Rebel Wolf
Male, 2.75
Endomorph
37 in, 140 lbs
149 ep
© Apax

Charlotte Catori
oops. aggro roswell. (loves mommy to much, has daddy issues, sounds about right)
expelled, his throat leaves all but an mixture of noise to her soft mumbles. disbelief, as if he, in that very moment did not dare to fear such a thing. (brittle old woman, how'd he respect her in every belief but dangerous in her own skin. a storyteller, a woman who takes time to tell children of the great wars. dare them to look her in the eye) a loose tongue that rides the back of his teeth as he watches the long legged crow scatter her dagger to the floor and rip away armor plate. an hesitant trust, perhaps. a dangerous one to the ivory babe and her son that wore his shoulders high and his arms crossed agaisnt a chest.

there is teeth, how they are so eager to show in the face of her childish scolding. he was none, youth no more. he wore the ridge colours to his chest and held the marks of a feverish babe to his skin in the most forming way. the dare that brings his ears back to the point of his round skull. (and so the queen awakens! he feels the heat slide from her jaw, she is hungry, passioned) the catch of his father's tongue brings his eyes to narrow in a mute curiosity. silence draws, how his mother speaks and from the corner of an eye that is dancing with his thought. the shattering of a gem that catches the corner of his eye but makes him shift a little. a surprise, a shock, perhaps. first times that reek of experience. "do you have a problem charlotte.. " there is a silence here, how his hind legs slowly separate. a balancing act, toes wide-spread and eyes that reek blame and anger to a slit. "knowing both the wife, the son of a man you murdered lives within your home?" he is unaware, a fool with no history. unaware and sworn only but his mother's late ghost whispering. a muddled bedtime story gone with grief, for the pan that never sworn a live eye onto. the grave he had never visited. the grave he had slid his fingers against the engraved writing. (he didn't imagine it was very large, money they didn't have)

his thigh would press into the short groove of his mother ship, the way his head lowers in line with his spine and a tail that is so very eager to curl upon the base of his rump. a taunt, as if questioned to his own. the need to show off, perhaps. to soothe the worry, the fear that haunts his mother of these idle clay queens may poise a threat. a father, sweeping away the demons that hid under the bed.











Posted 05-22-2017, 01:33 AM |
Rebel
Charlotte
Rebel Alpha
Female, 5.50
Ectomorph
40 in, 100 lbs
399 ep
© Lou
They are intense, too intense for her to frolic in their midst for much longer. Still though, she cants her head and listens to them both, intrigued now that she remembers who Catori really was, and realizes who Roswell is. Son of the famous Ruslan, and it appeared; from his demeanour shifting beneath her eyes; that she had come across in the opposite sense than how she had intended. She holds up her hands, defensive as Roswell attacks her (and it would not be the firs time), her head shaking as a chuckle sweeps across her salmon laced tongue. "Ruslan was friend, not foe..." She tells him calmly, "I did not murder him." And she looks around the ridge boy to meet Catori's eye, a brow quirking in question; you have not told him the story? He was still too young to know the why's and the how's, but Charlotte sighs, her tail drooping to sway between her hind ankles. "He was called to the ruins', a match to the death, I was among the first to arrive, and I was there, to defend him." She presses, "To defend his honour, to step in if he did not show." She shakes her head, the memory so branded in her mind it was as if it had happened just yesterday. Her eyes darken, a sadness tainting the corners; "Ruslan was one of my first friends, I would never have done anything to aid in his death. Nox gave an order, for us to step down, I was only young and couldn't fathom facing an entire pack- otherwise I would have. Remember that. Because it was Fire that handed your father his life."

Catori

Charlotte is riddled with scars from head to toe, the right side of her face is bare of fur, and both her ears are in tatters at the tips.










Posted 06-01-2017, 07:18 PM | This post was last modified: 06-01-2017, 07:20 PM by Catori
Fire (Site Helper)
Catori
Fire Wolf
Female, 5.75
Endomorph
31 in, 113 lbs
116 ep
© tig
'You watched them kill him. And did nothing.' Jaws crook, crash against empty air with the sudden loom of her blonde-locked skull. The sudden crack of tooth on tooth shatters her composure, rips the mask from the gargoyle. 'let me tell you one thing, charlotte. you didn't love him enough.' That delicate shell has split in two -- how can this woman regard murder with a laugh? Her spirit burns, yearns to spit the fire that she was born to wield. But instead, she froths and holds, teetering in a vengeful spasm that has spent too long dwelling in fantasy.

'shut your gods-damned mouth, and don't speak of dead men.' blasphemer! viperous, the neck that snakes back from her predatory poise, head anointed atop that swan-like column with no more than light and the bone sheen of her tress. She trembles, fitfully, but does not retreat. 'then we can get along just fine .'

With a breath, the rage pools into her, lights her stomach and her throat like whisky as eyes blink against the scene and that fire withdraws. The figure that remians is fae-like, fair of face and gentle eyed as she turns to the man who fits so very well beside her. there are many stories that i have never told anyone, least of all you. there has always been the idle thought of miring Roswell in the annuals of her youth -- but she is a bitter woman, and the shadows of her thought was no place for the future of the world. 'take me home, please. Before i lose more than my dignity and my self control.' Let charlotte take responsibility for the outpouring of this particular missery -- but she would stay beside her son, as long as she could.










Posted 06-06-2017, 07:04 PM |
Rebel
Roswell
Rebel Wolf
Male, 2.75
Endomorph
37 in, 140 lbs
149 ep
© Apax

Catori Charlotte
he is uncoiled, unlike the rattler that sits under unturned stones. burrowed, hidden and poised waiting to strike beneath the clay rocks one may step over. unleashed, even, does the haus, the bear that cradles the innocent sheep still spit venmon and eyes that could press them into stone. there, in that moment how she sweeps her head side to side and dare a chuckle does a snarl take from his tongue. the bare, youth stained teeth in his was of threat. the way his body in its seems, acted in a swift sweep forward. a lunge that only brought him forth a step. a boundary, a shield, how his ears pin tight to his skull and hackles rise in the most temptatious display. hit me, bitch

and so fourth the babe in white lace come fourth, the ripples of her muscle, the teeth that click and she is but he as he is her. a motionless fever of emotion, how it sways from one bod to another, how she is that fiery afterlife that consumes him in the most of the fashion. he is but silent in the wake of his mother's tone, the wrath that is loose off her lip and tongue. a stature that questions, his tongue that drifts over arisen lip and narrowed eyes that focus. illuminated in the white touch of his mother who sways to him then. she is gentle, poetic in the word and feat that she looks to him in need. an escort, feverish lips suddenly lunge for the white babe, aiming to put a feature of he to her brow. reassurance, dare she ever may need it with eyes that are caught on the thin bode of a woman. of a woman who he pressures, the poise of his tail suddenly curled among his spine. dominance that takes foot, for his words to her are nothing but monotone. "fire will see the day when their own flame burns them again. know you set it into motion by your chapped lip and willingness to listen

roswell attempts to exit with catori










Posted 06-11-2017, 08:43 PM |
Rebel
Charlotte
Rebel Alpha
Female, 5.50
Ectomorph
40 in, 100 lbs
399 ep
© Lou
[M] for language



and she snaps.

"I do not answer to you!" She shrieks, and paws rush forwards until she skids dust into the air in front of them, she is close enough to lunge at them but she doesn't, like a lizard; her hackles spike up around her as venom drips from yellowing teeth, bumps and ridges rising in lips that distort into nothing but untamed, raw fury. "You'll hold your fucking tongue while you stand here against my borders," she slings, "or I'll rip it right out of your head and feed it to him!" Her breathing is heavy, an inflated beast shuddering in the face of blasphemer's, two without respect, and oh how she writhes in discomfort to hold herself back from their blood, from the warmth of their lives leaking into the dust and staining the world with sustenance.

Roswell speaks and Charlotte growls at him, her lips all but peel back off her gums and she showers him in a spray of spit as her tongue lashes her front teeth. Her legs are split, evenly spaced below her as she rallies her defences for a fight she doesn't want, but he is as hot-headed as her and she was prepared if he'd dare take her. "You cross me again and there will be consequences," she spits, "now take her back to Ice!" and her voice shudders with the command that will not be argued with, "she's upset more than her dignity." and in that instant she breathes all her fury into the air between them and reels her head back, her opened jaw covering any access to her throat- she had lost what trust she had for him and she certainly didn't need her around. "I will not be questioned," she says, slightly softer than her voice had been before, "remember that if you ever want to try again." and as silence grabs her by the heart, she stands there and waits for them to disembark, striking Roswell with a promise that one more time, and she'd show him just how relentless the bitch could be.

Catori Roswell

Charlotte is riddled with scars from head to toe, the right side of her face is bare of fur, and both her ears are in tatters at the tips.










Posted 06-11-2017, 09:24 PM |
Storm
Claymore
Storm Wolf
Male, 3.75
Mesomorph
33 in, 123 lbs
260 ep
© KittyKookiez
C L A Y M O R E



He had not been listening for long. But it was obvious to the young man that tension ran thick, and Charlotte's nerves had been pricked in a way that alarmed he, too. It takes no genius to see that Roswell was not the nicest of guys, but to hear both he and this Ice woman talking disrespect sent his hackles rising to the heavens. He is silent as he approaches, tail leveled and head and chin dipped. Eyes narrow on them, to watch them leave, as he stands beside Charlotte as a silent form of backup. His toes are splayed amongst the ground, but his muscles remain loose and merely stays enough to watch them leave.

speech


KittyKookiez OOC Account

There is no need to tag me in any threads I am already in (unless it is my turn to post AND it is a multiple-party thread)!

Adopt one today!
Check out Cadmium and his friends on Dragcave :3











Posted 06-11-2017, 11:04 PM |
Vim
Unregistered
,
in, lbs
ep
© 
Perhaps the need to be here was already gone, but it did not stop the beast from coming. His paws are dusted in the red of his home soil. Though no rank graces him, he is full of dominance. It here that he was born. Here that he was raised. His family had controlled this pack and turf for far to long to let it fall. And the voices that consumed the cliffs were enough to threaten their existence. Head is high and tail follows suite as he commands the respect he wants. His absences mean little when it comes to the blood that runs through his very veins. He is rebel then, now and forever more.
Tension is far too high for his liking. Eyes take in all that they can manage. Settling on the figure of Roswell. It is he that Charlotte is so upset with and therefor, he is as well. Lip curls in disgust as he steps forth. Not caring to pay the others mind. They were of home- these strangers did not belong and it was evident in the way his queen screamed her demands and threats. His fur bristles as he reaches her side with his stance already spread even. Hoping to press hind limb to hers before taking that one step forward in a guarding manner. He would lay down life for her and it shows as head drops between broad shoulders. Tail dropping from high placement to linger low between hind limbs. Chin tucking just slight, for the rest of defenses would come when needed. If needed.
He would be her anchor.

-arrives late, doesnt hear much other than the last of what charlotte says. notices tension, becomes uneasy at her side-










Posted 06-12-2017, 11:56 AM |
Fire (Site Helper)
Catori
Fire Wolf
Female, 5.75
Endomorph
31 in, 113 lbs
116 ep
© tig

rash. but she wasn't the traitor queen's spawn for nothing. the leonine arch of her skull rests a single span before the v of his chest, as if contemplating the moment before it would find settle. but then is the hellish shriek-- brimstone and hellfire. she feels it in her veins, that recklessness, that same dark urge that pulled her close to finch fucking valentine, the same tremble as she lit her brother's overflowing hashish pipe on his desperate days, as she breathed death into the depths of kurai's guts.

'who are you, to talk to me of him whilst laughing? you can't accept that anyone other than yourself might feel a little fucking grief?!' that high voice, shrill with her distress. broken. it hurt. she hurt. his name is enough to send her into a tailspin. the breath that comes from her lips would be stifled, pressed close with the kiss against her son as she departs from his safe boundary, and turns back to that screaming banshee, to the woman who has come to hate her face of grief. 'I crossed you? you crossed him the day you didn't get on your knees and beg with me.' naked - stardust had fled her in that brief hope, kiyoshi's favour now shattered - but for the flesh that makes her, but for the skin that clothes that caracal form. hoshiko had breathed life into three babes, so very long ago; she hopes that the goddess sees her now, what that benevolent action has caused.

'woman to woman-- honour it.' a breath, as those men approach, as she eyes them with her thin eyes-- infernal. ears curl reflexively about her crown, tail slipping into the seam of her thigh as weft works upwards along her spine like a thousand strands of spider silk. she sets her jaw low across her throat, lips rolled back in the instant that her gaze takes to return to Charlotte. wilderness strikes in her gaze; she is a lost girl, abandoned long ago to a rambling kingdom populated by her dynasty's corpse. the stance is set: wide and even to provide balance, and joints primed in a flex that would allow her compact form mobility. her days upon the slipping sands and the sierra's afford her sure-footing, but she spreads her claws and toes anyway, shoulders layered with the thick folds of lipids stored by the heavy, year-round winter of kiyoshi's kingdom. goodbye athos. perhaps she would find peace elsewhere; sanctuary was running low. 'for the wife of your comrade.' for all the friendship that charlotte had professed, she watches the way that the woman eyes her son. you will never lay hands upon him. how badly she wants to call out to Roswell, tell him to take shelter with his siblings, his aunts and uncles, under the flag of her mother's homeland. but she will not insult him like that. instead, she stands poised, unbowed before this foreign force and the rage and indifference that has hounded her for time eternal. the goddess made a mistake that day. born cold and still-- akako did his best to warm her for a while, but she has been a dead woman for too long.

0/4? m 0/5? d
undecided match type (up to lou / whoever accepts)
endo, 31 113, excellent
3w, 1d










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