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Mature no one hath fury like a woman scorned
Posted 06-04-2017, 06:06 PM | This post was last modified: 06-27-2017, 09:25 PM by Niyole
Wind ( Admin )
Niyole
Wind Pupsitter
Female, 2.50
Endomorph
32 in, 122 lbs
170 ep
© Megaman
Lurid sunset eyes flash violent against the early moon's embracing arms. Broad shoulders rippled beneath the surface as she stalked towards the entrance of the den - she knew where it was but had yet to spend a night within the dark confines of the makeshift home beside her lover. A lover, who, had disappeared at the slight interest she'd shown in unification of their emotions for one another, which blatantly existed. Fury swelled inside the sand ridden bosom as it raced. Scorned by the absence of the person who supposedly cared about her existence - the one who should have attended every instance she'd existed at. Except he hadn't attended anything. A snarl erupts into the cold wintry air, abrupt and harsh as she paces outside the opening.

"SQUIRREL," she barks, a demand as her tail flags high above her waistline, "we need to talk." If that wasn't obvious she was dating a blockhead and needed to discard him immediately. With the angry admission hissed between grayed lips she plants herself outside his door, refusing to slide into a comfortable recline. Paws splay against the pact earth, nails digging into the soil, tail remained high as her vivid peach eyes narrowed, peering into the darkness as if they could light a torch to see within. "If I don't see you out here in ten seconds...." The threat wavers against the air, half fury, half amused with self-awareness of her heated emotions. She was hurt more than anything by his absence. As if she were a leper he feared to touch when she had needed his congratulations, his tender touch, after her fight with Tyrus. Even a presence to feel more secure in her visitation of Ice - where she'd felt rather ganged up on by the wolves of the Sierra. Now, she must force Squirrel to face this infraction lest she find comfort in the arms of another man - bachelors were many across Doutaini and her mind instantly conjured faces of those she might move on with (thoughts that brought guilt in the absence of her lover, though she felt every right to have them).

Squirrel

If I have not replied to you & it's been awhile please PM or re-tag me in the thread so that I don't forget it.



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Posted 06-07-2017, 10:00 PM |
Wind
Squirrel
Wind Hunter
Male, 3.25
Meso-runner
35in in, 100 lbs
ep
© Xechi




















Everything was perfect for one single night. They parted sweetly, lovers confirmed, and for a good while Squirrel was able to spend time with himself with a grin plastered squarely on his moon-shaped face. When they parted ways, Squirrel set to cleaning out his den of the refuse and bones he'd gathered since joining. (A man alone had little reason to keep his den "spic and span".) He replaced his rather course bedding with something fresh, and, for the first time in what felt years the brute went to rest with an honest smile on his burned marred face. Like all things, however, it would not last. While Niyole had the ability to heal him, in her absence, Squirrel's mind was rather cruel. Not to anyone else, but to himself, wholly and completely the arch-villain that ruled his mind. As the brute drifted into a deep sleep, nightmares, his old friend, returned. This time, not in the haunting shape of Nova, but the self-important brute Jester. "Look, kid, I'm gonna be straight with you," the nightmare brute said, his fangs dripping fire and suddenly Squirrel realized he was back in that den, that cage that was too hot, too lonely, that starved him. "You got shit for that pretty lady out there." Squirrel can't help but nod. "You tricked her, somehow, like I tricked you, eh?" Again, the man (the boy) nods, his champagne kissed eyes wide as the fire that blocked his escape licked Jester's heels.

"And you won't bring no good to her. You, your family, you're cursed, remember?" For a second he hears the deranged, death rattling cackle of Nova, and he feels his heart hammer even in his sleep. "It'll all end in fire." The flames that licked Jester's heels billow suddenly forward, consuming his kidnapper who only cackled like his namesake and Squirrel was held motionless as they pressed forward to devour him as well.

He woke with a scream stuck in his throat, his heart pounding, and everything in him saying to run. He did.

-----


Gods, he was an idiot. Even when he had zero desire to leave, he bloody left, coming to his senses only when his toes touched the edge of the Kuro Pits, the place he knew would break his gem should he step over. Autumn was shifting to winter as snow began to fall, and, when the adrenaline passed, Squirrel was left with bloody pads and an aching body. He sighed, and sighed again, eyes flicking shut as he struggles with the emotions still fraying his nerves. 'What's so wrong with you?', she'd said, and her meaning was obvious. Nothing. There was nothing wrong with him. Jester didn't ruin him, his family did not curse him. Nova's death was not his fault. All these things he'd thought before, but had nothing to back it up. Now, now Niyole's eyes glimmered with happiness in his mind.

It was enough.

It would take the brute time to return to Wind, for he'd run himself half to death, and, in all honesty, was nervous (as he was in all things) about returning. Squirrel had come back the night before Niyole arrived, exhausted from the long trek, toes and claws looking rather gnarly from their wounds. He collapsed in his (now no longer fresh) bed, and was instantly asleep. It was her voice that woke him, but not the sweet peach tint that kept his head above water, no. Her voice was angry, and he wakes immediately to its furor. Squirrel scrambled to still aching legs, and pokes his head out as she hisses, 'If I don't see you out here in ten seconds...'. At first, he doesn't look at her, his voice and countenance clearly submissive as he says, "Er, hey, Niyole-" tempest gaze flicks towards her, taking in her appearance in full. Which is when he notices the wounds upon her nape with wide eyes. "What-" he begins, stepping now fully out of the den as he approached, casting aside the selfish worry for himself and her anger. Let her lash, he would take it. "Who the hell did that to you!?"




"Fiends on the floor, scratching again."

Niyole



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Posted 06-12-2017, 04:13 PM |
Wind ( Admin )
Niyole
Wind Pupsitter
Female, 2.50
Endomorph
32 in, 122 lbs
170 ep
© Megaman
The length of her body quivered with rage even as he slides from the opening with a clearly submissive stature. Peach eyes narrow in their sockets, small vivid lanterns of wrath that refused to widen at his greeting. "That's all you have to say?" Anger lashes out just after he finishes his question to the scabbed wounds that would leave behind her first scars from her first brawl within the realm of Doutaini. Fury quakes her body, tail flagged in sharp response, held high above her waistline. "Squirrel, where have you been?" By this time the dulcet tones creep towards the back of her voice, edging in between the flat tone that flows over heated words. Atop her skull those sandy ears twitch irritably while at the base of her throat the gem glows; around them, winds pick up speed, directed to come in from their left and particularly stronger on Squirrel's side - a whirl of wind to slap him in the face, just hard enough for the wind to graze across and leave a slight burning sensation lest he moved enough to avoid the small directed bout of air (maelstrom). She's particular about the past tense of been as her eyes assess his body. For all she had known, the man could have been dead.

Small details of broken nails and roughened toes catch her attentive eyes and she wonders just how far he'd gone. Ran, more like it. Soured thoughts turn her lips downward in a thin gray line of anger. Now her eyes trail upwards, catches the gem still hung at his throat, before seeking to hold his eyes in the endless depths of her sunset glare. "My wounds, they came from Tyrus." Made in a flat tone, anger rolls in like the tide, eyes returning to slits of vivid peach, as she makes the statement to fiddle with Squirrel. After thirty seconds to let the statement sink in, have him wonder why the alpha would assault her viciously, there's a slow spread of a tentative smile - tentative because she was not done being angry just yet.

"I'm sub alpha now." Pride rings in her tone then, allowing the creases around her eyes to unfold from themselves. "You missed the entire fight. In fact," there's a short pause as she considers his paws once more, "I haven't seen you since we visited my father's grave." Anger hovers around the edges of her voice, though she speaks in dulcet tones, attempting to sound cordial when she wanted to smack him with winds strong enough to topple him over. Teach him to leave her worried and furthermore, left with a rather endearing and handsome young Water wolf, when she much preferred the rugged wrinkled mug of her lover.

Squirrel

If I have not replied to you & it's been awhile please PM or re-tag me in the thread so that I don't forget it.



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Posted 06-14-2017, 01:15 AM |
Wind
Squirrel
Wind Hunter
Male, 3.25
Meso-runner
35in in, 100 lbs
ep
© Xechi




















His eyes are slits, anger contorted his once handsome visage as burn scars crinkle from the expression. Squirrel is alert, well aware of the anger running off Niyole, too, knowing the volatile combination if allowed to take root. Her words slap back, his question unanswered in a way the makes his lip quiver. He cannot look away from the wounds, cannot quiet the uproarious thoughts. ('Who did this, who would dare hurt her, who would tear that tender flesh that only I may taste!?' Thoughts that, when looked upon 'neath a microscope, reveal the truth of his feelings.) Niyole's tail flags, and as if in challenge, his own does too, but it's not anger towards her. She questions his absence with a fury that lifts the wind, and Squirrel takes it, hunching only slightly when the maelstrom of a slap met his cheek with a harsh grunt. "I deserve that," he grunts, shifting uncomfortably on his wounded paws, but still, his champagne kissed eye cannot tear from the wounds.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Squirrel ignores the inner yearnings to run, the inner yearnings to shout, but he shakes from the strength of it. He wasn't, after all, a passive man. Yet patience is his virtue as she, finally, explains. Surprise widens storm-wrought eyes, followed by brief confusion, and then, quickly dawning fury. His face darkens, and during those silent thirty seconds, Squirrel plots needless and unnecessary revenge.

Yet dulcet tones guide him another direction. Sub-Alpha, she utters, and he wonders, at first, what that has to do with Tyrus wounding her, though she explains away any concern there as well, leaving the silver brute with... shame. Finally, he tears his vision from her mangled fur, meeting her eyes as the fury faded from his face. What's left is regret, an emotion that seems a constant in his mind; and mind and body work furiously against each other. One says run, his mind, the other, wants to reach out and touch her to remember that she is real. His body wins, for once, and the brute steps forward, muzzle lowered, shoulders hunched as if he expected another whip of wind. Even if she slapped, he would aim to reach around her neck, tongue snaking out to aim brief kisses to the wounds there before he danced out of reach- back towards the den. "Come in?" He asks, or rather, pleads. His eyes say what his lips do not; 'give me another chance.'

"I'll explain... everything. And I think I have something, for the pain."




"Fiends on the floor, scratching again."

Niyole



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Posted 06-18-2017, 09:21 PM |
Wind ( Admin )
Niyole
Wind Pupsitter
Female, 2.50
Endomorph
32 in, 122 lbs
170 ep
© Megaman
Fury bristles at the back of her mind. Eyes remained narrowed bright slits within her skull, disregarding the dull ache of the punctures along her neck and the tears that resulted in Tyrus's harsh treatment to the skin there. All focus was on Squirrel and how he'd abandoned in her rise to assist Wind's growth. Too many of Wind's members remained dormant or vanished, too long had Wind suffered the very cowardice that Squirrel had shown her. There's some relent when he accepts his fate, her eyes becoming less prone to the slits they'd adopted as the edges unwrinkled from themselves.

She watches the reactions play out on his features as she teases him with the use of Tyrus's name. Had she known the thoughts that ran through Squirrel's mind she would have hushed him instantly. Loyal, as usual, to her alpha. With a dying breath she would defend her commander, just as she hoped all of Wind would stand behind the man. With explanation she erases the confusion from her lover's mind, tail remaining flagged behind her in victorious response to her prideful admission. She is somewhat irked by Squirrel's tail raising to meet her's, as if he challenged her authority. A small irritation to her already furious mind.

What little gap lay between them closed as his body surged forward and she allowed it, muscles tensing as her paws splayed against the ground to plant her firmly on the spot where she stood. Her heart pounds within her chest as he kisses her wounds. They sting against the care and the hairs across her neck bristle in response to protect what is already flayed open. There's a soft sound of comfort that coos between her lips. Her anger is sated for the moment as she leans into the embrace, only disappointed when he withdraws from her form.

As their conversation progresses she sees the supplication in the depths of storms that float within the iris of his eyes. With a soft sigh she moves to trail behind him, to enter the mouth of his den. She thinks she might suggest relocating to place together. Perhaps renovate one of their existing dens to accommodate both of them. Teeth click thoughtfully together as she ignores the comment about pain; she was less concerned about the ache of her wounds than the status of their relationship, which appeared close to implosion with Squirrel's indiscretions. Whatever explanations he had, she hoped they were good.

Squirrel

If I have not replied to you & it's been awhile please PM or re-tag me in the thread so that I don't forget it.



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Posted 06-19-2017, 09:37 PM |
Wind
Squirrel
Wind Hunter
Male, 3.25
Meso-runner
35in in, 100 lbs
ep
© Xechi




















Squirrel wasn't a pious man, but he'd be lying if he claimed he didn't thank the gods. Niyole didn't push him aside, and, as he pulled away, he noted the way her eyes had softened from a midday sun's glare, to the succulent peach he so adored. Squirrel mouths a silent thank you before leading her into the den. It wasn't particularly large (not, at least, large enough for a family) but he'd originally sought the den out for he and Minerva, and would be rather comfortable for their two bodies to share. He guides her to the slightly stale bedding, his long tail motioning towards it as he spoke with words that felt rushed, "Sit, make yourself at home." However, he did not recline himself, instead, pacing before the woman as a shroud of silence descended upon them.

The brute jumps, suddenly, as if remembering something, towards a leafy pile near the corner. He can be seen rustling around beneath it, his motions jerky and rushed, before quickly returning to Niyole. In his mouth was a small bouquet of bright yellow flowers, and he places them at her paws. "I, uh, I don't know what they're called but..." he shrugs, glances away, and damns himself for being so bad at this. "I used it, for my wounds. I'd probably look worse than a do now, if it weren't for these pretty ladies." He cast her a wry grin, finally meeting her eyes. He gulps. "I can turn it into a poultice for you." It was obvious he was rambling, trying to avoid the subject matter. The look in Niyole's eyes told him to get on with it. "Okay," he stammers, again pacing. His hackles are raised despite himself, and his tail waves in a fitful motion. "Okay." This time, his haggard tones hold a sort of determination.

"I just gotta... get it out, right?" He asks, but does not wait for an answer. "So, my family, they're from outside of Doutaini. The Vighentes" Tempest eyes roll as his tone turns mocking, "Big shots, in a way. I was born in the middle of a war, and we, well... I guess we lost." He doesn't mention that one of his first memories was the sound of wolves dying, the way their breath turned raspy and their cries. "Well, when we got here, they thought they'd be big shots here, too. A woman met us at the Pits, and... and. Ugh, we killed her." He didn't mention that he tried to convince her to bow out, how he was five months old and didn't lay a fang on her. His pacing pauses, and he looks dead in the eye. "Her name was Nova. I don't know if she had family or what, but she came right back. A bloody spirit. Welcome to Doutaini! Am I right?" Squirrel's scoffs, and his motions become tremulous once again. Again, he doesn't wait for an answer.

"I got kidnapped, some time after that. I was in the Speculum, looking for my ass of a brother, and this Fire wolf... Jester," he can't help but pause, saying the man's name aloud. A gulp, and the brute continues, "He knocked me out, dragged my body into the Torrid and left me in this small fucking den with a wall of fire barring my way." His nose twitches at the thought of flames licking it, and his eyes flicker shut as the torrent in his memories roared. "I tried to get out, I did but... all I got was burned. That lady who ruled Fire, well, I guess she found out because one day. One day Jester just... let me go. I remember it, I thought... I thought I was hallucinating. I hadn't eaten in... in weeks it felt. But I dragged my ass back to Storm, back to my sister." Again he pauses, this time mid-step, his lips turned downward in a frown. "I thought everything would be okay but I... I just," He trails off, unable to look at her. 'I couldn't handle it.' He thinks to himself, but does not say. Instead, the brute shrugs, and continues his pacing.

"Well, it wasn't okay. Nova returned to haunt me, and I, the fucking coward I am, ran. Back out into the wastes. Ran until my feet bled and some trashy looking wolf knocked me out with her opiates." He stops, and he feels his heart hammering against his chest and everything, everything screaming to run but.

Niyole.

Squirrel breathes in and out, his breath ragged, his eyes red with unshed tears as they meet hers. He felt a wreck, and looked it, too. "I ran because I'm a coward, Niyole. I have all this... this shit in me that just." He shakes his head, finally allowing himself to sit. A silvered paw is extended towards her, showing off the ragged details of his long run. Claws were splintered down to the quick, his pads, though calloused, rubbed raw. "I'm fucked up, Niyole, but I..." his eyes were the sky before the storm, her's the sweet of fruit, but they meet nonetheless, "I don't wanna be. For once in my life, I want to be better. For you."




"Fiends on the floor, scratching again."

Niyole



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Posted 06-27-2017, 09:12 PM |
Wind ( Admin )
Niyole
Wind Pupsitter
Female, 2.50
Endomorph
32 in, 122 lbs
170 ep
© Megaman
The sand blown form slips into the entrance of the den behind Squirrel. Lurid eyes flit around the room, picking out details of the space while her muzzle wrinkles at the sourness of old sheets. With a mental tut, she reminds herself that Squirrel had vacated the premise for quite some time. She moves into the space, lowering to haunches as her sandy tail wraps around her paws and her attention moves politely to the pacing beast.

Much of her lover's behavior seems odd as he paces before her gaze, eyes following back and forth in metronome rhythm. When Squirrel startles, she too, jumps from the sudden activity, having been lulled by the rhythmic actions of back and forth. Unlike her Izzakian ancestors, Niyole was not skilled in the healing arts, nor did she hold much of an interest in the art, so as Squirrel brandished flowers towards her she merely smiled. "A poultice might be nice." After all the times assisting Philippa in her healing arts, one would think Niyole had picked up some basic skills, and perhaps she had if she put her mind to it. Poultices were not one such skill.

Silence stretches between them as he begins to speak and the words begin to spill from his lips in torrents. Bright eyes close against the darkest parts, thoughts whirling through her mind as she fights images of a young Squirrel traumatized by the horrors of the past. To think he had helped kill someone brought a tinge of bile snaking up her throat and she fought to keep a grimace from the elongated features of her face. Even the fact that he remembered the woman's name that he had helped murder left a flight of vertigo that surged through her, making her feel light headed. Her head sagged between her shoulders, bright eyes peering through lashes up at his scarred face - only, the horror didn't end there.

If the murder had come after the kidnapping, then maybe she couldn't fault him for those actions so much. Though it hardly surprised her that there was such a wolf that would have taken a mere child. She'd seen things among the crater's grounds that shed light on some of the characters that roamed Doutaini. Eyes trace the scars across the side of his face, how they pull against the gray of fur that rings them, pulling his lips on that side, and now she knows how they came to be.

Quite the history to carry, she thinks as he continues towards the end of his story. Once more she looks at his ragged paws, splintered and bloody from his excursions beyond Doutaini more recently. Lips draw into thin lines as she considers his words. There was much she questioned about the man, now. So little she had known before and now it lay before her, raw and open. She could easily condemn Squirrel for his past haunts, to remind him that he'd sinned for some family name. Little good would come from chastisements of past sins, things that couldn't be changed. Her mind reeled, unable to determine what she wished to do.

Before she let silence put further distance between them she shifts, rising to her paws to shuffle closer to Squirrel, hoping to offer some comfort with a press of lips to his jawline and bowing to curve her head gently into the cavity between his neck and chest. "You can only be what you want to be, Squirrel, and not for me. Not for anyone else but you." Her voice comes out soft, yet firm at the same time with a serious nature. "The past can only stop us if you let it. I won't wait for you again. I can't promise to grow with you, when I haven't been part of half the tragedy you've face in your lifetime. But I can stay for now." Every words she speaks is in a soft tone, meant to lead him into comfort despite the connotations behind the sentences. She wasn't sure what she felt, other than a surge of pity for the man and a hope that he could grow into the man he hoped to become. Even if his intentions were not ideally the best and put some weight across her shoulders.

Squirrel

If I have not replied to you & it's been awhile please PM or re-tag me in the thread so that I don't forget it.



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Posted 07-13-2017, 12:44 AM |
Wind
Squirrel
Wind Hunter
Male, 3.25
Meso-runner
35in in, 100 lbs
ep
© Xechi




















It's not just his paw he holds extended, but his heart; it, too, cracked and bloody from a life and neglect and wear. Now that it was all out, Squirrel felt, well, not quite relieved, but something damn near it; but it felt tenuous, somehow, like it stood, tip-toe, on the tightrope. He'd done himself a service, not watching the horror in reaction to his history, allowing her time to digest, reflect. Allowing himself time, as well, for these silent moments give the brute a moment to breathe. Auds were clutched, tight, against his head, as he (they) waited, his body seeming to tremble in her gaze. 'What does she think of me?' The cruelest of his conscience questions, 'How can she stand to look at me?' For the barest hint of a second, his paw would quiver, his resolve faltering under the weight of his mortal conscience and then,

without words, Niyole found him. She presses forward and his paw slips down her neck, wincing slightly, from the echo of pain it caused him, though he was far to transfixed by her movements, by her lips suddenly dancing across his jaw. Surely she would hear the hammering of his heart, hear the ragged draw of his breath as she lingered there. As she speaks, the same lingering paw would slowly aim to wrap around her neck, pulling her closer. Her words, though rough seeming were precisely what he needed to hear. It would do no good to convince Squirrel that he was innocent, that he was good, that he was things other than the cowardice that controlled so much of his life. The man breathes a heavy sigh, and places his head atop of hers, his voice hoarse, and heavy, tinged in something he'd not tasted before. "It's all I would ask." and here, he would pull away, only slightly, his paw pushing her so that he might meet the peach-tones of her eyes. "Let me give," there's a purr on his tongue, and his hackles bristle from the chills that take his spine, "in return."

There was no way to prove to Niyole he meant what he'd said. No way to prove, this instant, that he could, would be better. But he could, however, show that he was, undoubted, irrevocably, forever, hers. Should she allow him, he would lay her on her back, and teach her ways to say his name in whimpers, and purrs.




"Fiends on the floor, scratching again."

Niyole



[ Reply ]






Posted 07-13-2017, 12:53 AM |
Wind ( Admin )
Niyole
Wind Pupsitter
Female, 2.50
Endomorph
32 in, 122 lbs
170 ep
© Megaman
*fade to black*
End thread.

If I have not replied to you & it's been awhile please PM or re-tag me in the thread so that I don't forget it.



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