Desert

Compendium Entry North: Gobi Desert
Central: Saharan Desert
South: Subtropical Desert (Sonoran & Mojave Deserts)

Stretching as far as the eye can see, this unique desert boasts a diverse landscape: towards the south, cacti stand watch year round over sweeping lands that often see dangerously high temperatures and low precipitation. Moving towards the central section, dirt and clay become reddish sand, constantly shifting thanks to heavy wind. The northern side is a place of extremes, reaching dangerously low temperatures in winter and high in summer. Overall, the Desert provides very little shade, leading most creatures to operate on a nocturnal schedule to avoid the relentless sun.

AW
"I didn't say I was done, did I?"


Early Morning Sunny/Clear 96° F
#1
AW
Discovery
Quote
Boiling heat. Something underneath the sands of this scalding hot place writhed in misery, in just madness.

click, snap.

She had left him behind. She had taken his lies, and slaughtered him with them. She had such a pretty smile...

Snap SNAP

She hadn't even fulfilled her promise to him, their legacy had not been built. She had not ascended!

crack....sluuuurp

A mangled limb wrenched itself free of a dune's surface, followed by another, yet they had been born again. HE had been born again. Neck had been healed, those needle-like holes healed and gone away as the bone had snapped back in place, correctly from it's massacred twist. The crown burst through the hot pool of sand with a whoosh!, and the coywolf lurched upwards with no jittery hesitation, for once.
Then all was still.

"Kelinaaa...." sand drained from his throat in sloppy wet and dark black slops atop the jostles tan sea, landing between dusted paws that originally matched dried out soil barely watered. The sand drained from his body in a crystalline fall as he had risen from his crypt, woken from death, from slumber that would have prevented him from getting his revenge. She would know him, again. And she would know where nightmares spawned.

Scarecrow tilted his skull all the way up, arching the head allllllll the way back as he felt sand still tickle the insides of his gullet. None of that mattered. He was here to enjoy himself. To make right the wrongs. He would bless this plane with his return. They would know salvation.
The jitters returned. It began with his spine, tingling his body into a tensed wire that would spark and set flame until the embers died away. He was fine. Finally his throat could no longer take the jarring prickles of the sand deeply lodged in it, and forward he lurched the bent head, hacking out a spew of wet sand courted by phlegm and black sprinkles of dried blood. They flew forward in a pretty fan across the place he had never been before.

After he had helped himself, dead blue eyes opened, and struck the eye of Osiris dead on. Though he was not familiar with the lore of this place that supposedly lurked here, it was rather uncanny. It was also uncanny how his jitters ceased at the exact second @Andraste had decided to move to figure out exactly what he was, instead him stilling like a stone before the Stone of this wicked place.
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#2
Discovery
Quote
 Another was borne from the sand, within the sclera of the Eye.

 She too had arisen from the depths of their oasis, deep within the earth between the lids of the Eye, where she had rested with @Exalted. Unlike the creature that spat out sand and dust, breathing in the heat of morning that so quickly surrounded this place. Had he woken earlier, when night still truly fell upon this place, it would have been a much more comfortable temperature - at least, for the thick furred witch of the Eye.

 Frigid at night, sweltering at day - that was the way of the desert. A good reason for the pair to have become nocturnal.

 She appeared from the Pupil, walking from the shadows of the cave towards him.

 “It appears Death has left me a present,” she would muse, thinking of her own Waking west of here, within the Plains. She, too, had clawed her way from the bowels of the earth like some sort of zombie, her own breath a mockery of life. She grinned, savagely, at the foggy eyed man.

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“Common”    “Loet'ah (Cheunh)”
#3
Quote
Eyes whipped to her before the head slowly slid to join into the conversation. "Death?" he hissed with a smile. That was a name she had claimed so long ago. But Scarecrow couldn't guarantee that was who this woman spoke up. It may as well had been, the way something in his chest violently curled as he filled the silent void with silent loathe. "A gift...I shall be." His thin limbs leaned toward her in a stiff manner, as though it were illegal for joins to bend. Something sick possessed his motions, but eventually legs began a bend, fluid, almost too limber, as he crossed the sea of tan to near the voice. "I serve best with a smile."

Scarecrow peeled lips back to reveal teeth, much whiter than anything else on him, and tucked a rear with the dip of his crown only just enough. Banner swept the dust behind him enough to offer her submission, should she take it as he neared. The coywolf danced for her.

But as of now, he was starved. Not only for food, but for reason. For structure. For sanctity. Would Andraste catch the glint in those corpse blues before her nape would catch the glint of his ivories?

"Tell me, birthday girl, is today special?..." His voice struck silent as a hushed whisper in the dark, as his body stilled once more. Ruff barely trembled a warning as the bag of bones turned into an ominous statue. The aura felt off- the aura felt lethal-
Could she tell? Who would she tell? He was a good listener...

Just as he was a good liar.
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“̴͍̞͈̋̌T̷̫̰̋̓͜e̶̳̙̅͐͝ḽ̸̡̗͝l̴͚̦̮̯͍͚͌̇̾ ̵̨̱̪̟͉̄̆m̵͎̬͙͎̹̋ȇ̴̘̜̅̓͗̓͘-̸͉̰͙̬̟̥̆͛̂̋͘͝ ̵͍̩͓̣̣̀̽̒D̴̩͎͎̔͋̎̐̕o̶̻̥͂͊̐̽̄͠ ̷̛͕͈͎͓͒̑̊͗̈ỹ̸͚̱̼̟̼̖ó̶̮͉̬̻̋͌ȕ̵̼͈͇͂̍ ̴͖̫̈͗̓̒͆͝h̴̢̛̙͇͋̎ë̷͓͔́ͅȃ̵̞͒r̷̮̜̀̇̋͗̕͝ ̴̰̬̭̩͉͎͆́t̵̛̬̣̜͉̤h̵͖͗̊e̸̡̬̱̤͈̣͑̅́͐̅̅m̸̨̡̩̗̲͛̐̂̎,̶̢̬̜͉̩̓̈ ̵͉̳̯͕̹̐͂̾̄̕ẗ̷̘ő̸̘̏͘o̵̭̰̠̎͆͠?̵̢̗̹͉̪͘”̵̨̘͉̯́̒͆ͅ
#4
Discovery
Quote
 His movements towards her were at first rigid, bending tiredly, but soon they loosened up and she watched impassively. Had he thought that twisting and bending like so would, what, unnerve her? A smile slipped onto her own face, dark and thoughtful. When his lips peeled back against his face, showing ivories, her own did so, teeth sharp and dangerous.

 A chuckle escaped her lips, blood red eyes following him as he moved ever closer.

 There was a clear hunger in him as he moved through the sclera towards the one and only true shelter in the desert. Her tongue flashed out, drawing across her lips as he considered him - then stepped forward towards him so she could lift her head to tower over him and stare him down, the glint in her own eyes flashing against his own. There was a threat in him but oh so too was there a threat in her.

 For she was sick of the men of this realm and how eager they were to throw their weight about. She had her own weight as well.

 “Of course it is,” she murmured, voice sickly sweet, “For you get to meet me.” She grinned at him, body coiled up like a cobra and ready to strike if the man thought to take her as his prey. No, if anyone was to be eating another here, it would be he who was consumed. “Welcome to hell.”

 “This is the Eye of Osiris.”

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“Common”    “Loet'ah (Cheunh)”
#5
Discovery
Quote
 It was early but still too late for the pale mistress to be up. The sun's rays were torture, an extra dose of pain to this waking hell. She was more than happy to sleep this all away, to rise when the moon was dancing unabashedly in the sky. 

 But that was not to happen today. 

 Sounds drifted towards her as she dozed atop the bear pelt in the deep reaches of the Eye's optic nerves. Her ears twitched, eyes flickering open at the sound of voices. One was familiar, the other was not. The white wolf glared at the wall but decided to investigate. 

 Would the kingdom grow?

 The skull and pelt were left behind as she navigated the sacred halls and exited out of a cavern into the sclera. She did not move closer, stood in the shadows like a white splotch in a sea of darkness. There she could see Andraste and before her stood a disgusting looking man. Tall, wiry, pelt made of wet mulch and other unpleasant colors. 

 His back was to her and the way that he and Andraste squared off... it seemed like two snakes ready to strike. 

 Exalted said nothing but her eyes would dance around the man to Andraste, a silent question. Did she need backup? Or should she sit this one out? Sure, further into the future when they had others to do this sort of dirty work, she'd be happy to sit back and watch. But now? Now it was all paws on deck. 

 She slunk no closer and only watched. A silent assurance but she knew that this plebian posed no threat to the war maiden so she would say nothing and make no moves. 

 She was just a silent observer to the possible show.

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#6
Quote
Her height had matched his own, but he was undoubtedly eclipsed with her weight. Something carnal spoke to him, nails clinking against a windowpane to cease his urges, yet it had been too long since he had been shown the light, again. It had been too long since he had been banished to dark fathomless silence, and for him to have no fun. The brother of Salem needed to release, his release, and in his crazed sense of mind, that was only undone in blood. Should there be mercy, should there not, fate was doomed to bring him back, and he would do his spoopy boopy dance until fate tired of him.

Her words had not soothed his needs. Her introduction was empty. Her body however, was a place of wonder for him. In a place of absolution, she differed. A place of fiery seas, she was pungent of drowned earth, of petrichor gone lonely for an hour at most. But that was her exterior. He met a face with no name, a body with no title, in a place where names were just words with no meaning. The ghoul needed her to guide him in definitions for all alluded from him up to this point. To offer him salvation from the ignorance of rebirth.

"And who... are you?" his words were sincerely curious as they left the maw sailing for the middle of her stark chest.
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“̴͍̞͈̋̌T̷̫̰̋̓͜e̶̳̙̅͐͝ḽ̸̡̗͝l̴͚̦̮̯͍͚͌̇̾ ̵̨̱̪̟͉̄̆m̵͎̬͙͎̹̋ȇ̴̘̜̅̓͗̓͘-̸͉̰͙̬̟̥̆͛̂̋͘͝ ̵͍̩͓̣̣̀̽̒D̴̩͎͎̔͋̎̐̕o̶̻̥͂͊̐̽̄͠ ̷̛͕͈͎͓͒̑̊͗̈ỹ̸͚̱̼̟̼̖ó̶̮͉̬̻̋͌ȕ̵̼͈͇͂̍ ̴͖̫̈͗̓̒͆͝h̴̢̛̙͇͋̎ë̷͓͔́ͅȃ̵̞͒r̷̮̜̀̇̋͗̕͝ ̴̰̬̭̩͉͎͆́t̵̛̬̣̜͉̤h̵͖͗̊e̸̡̬̱̤͈̣͑̅́͐̅̅m̸̨̡̩̗̲͛̐̂̎,̶̢̬̜͉̩̓̈ ̵͉̳̯͕̹̐͂̾̄̕ẗ̷̘ő̸̘̏͘o̵̭̰̠̎͆͠?̵̢̗̹͉̪͘”̵̨̘͉̯́̒͆ͅ
#7
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 The man, clearly with blood that was not lupine, grew closer and closer, all under the scrutiny of her red eyes. He was a strange miss-mash of browns and grays, as if someone had chewed up bark and spat it into a pile, mashed that pile into the form of a coywolf, and sat on it. She noted every step as he approached and gazed at her, speaking -

 - and he lunged.

 In that instant, she also moved, shoving forward and upward so that while his jaws attempted to sink into flesh at a certain point, her chest would instead slam into him while he still built up speed. Unless he managed to maneuver away, the witch would twist down, her jaws wide and aiming for the back of his neck to grab and fling him away from her and down.

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“Common”    “Loet'ah (Cheunh)”
#8
Quote
Just to start out the gate, got a yes to being moved away, a no to being snagged, and a yes to still taking damage somewhere. Rolled a 1/5. He's at 9/10 health! :) Feel free to keep it up!



The answer lie in blood. His question went unanswered vocally, but in their tango, Scarecrow had vastly underestimated her strength. When she had chest bumped him, not only had she cheated herself out of clamping down on the back of his scruff as her powerful shove had sent him sliding back with undeniable ease across the hot sands, but she had earned herself a laughable moment as the bundle of living sticks lost his ability to not trip over his own limbs. Doing so, he tumbled backwards, and momentum cleared him a painful landing as his jaws snapped shut on a small piece of his tongue, a small fraction of pain he hadn't noticed. Not to say he didn't rise, but he did eventually reconstruct himself on his stilty limbs and make way back for The Girl With No Name.

"I didn't hear you..." he voice trailed to her as he stalked over to her, occasional dots of blood leaving his words in the sandy wash beneath him.
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“̴͍̞͈̋̌T̷̫̰̋̓͜e̶̳̙̅͐͝ḽ̸̡̗͝l̴͚̦̮̯͍͚͌̇̾ ̵̨̱̪̟͉̄̆m̵͎̬͙͎̹̋ȇ̴̘̜̅̓͗̓͘-̸͉̰͙̬̟̥̆͛̂̋͘͝ ̵͍̩͓̣̣̀̽̒D̴̩͎͎̔͋̎̐̕o̶̻̥͂͊̐̽̄͠ ̷̛͕͈͎͓͒̑̊͗̈ỹ̸͚̱̼̟̼̖ó̶̮͉̬̻̋͌ȕ̵̼͈͇͂̍ ̴͖̫̈͗̓̒͆͝h̴̢̛̙͇͋̎ë̷͓͔́ͅȃ̵̞͒r̷̮̜̀̇̋͗̕͝ ̴̰̬̭̩͉͎͆́t̵̛̬̣̜͉̤h̵͖͗̊e̸̡̬̱̤͈̣͑̅́͐̅̅m̸̨̡̩̗̲͛̐̂̎,̶̢̬̜͉̩̓̈ ̵͉̳̯͕̹̐͂̾̄̕ẗ̷̘ő̸̘̏͘o̵̭̰̠̎͆͠?̵̢̗̹͉̪͘”̵̨̘͉̯́̒͆ͅ
#9
Quote
Rolled successful and 5 for damage
Andraste: 10/10
Scarecrow: 9/10 -> 4/10


 The witch's eyes followed as he fell back into a pile of legs. She stalked towards him as he sorted himself out, returning to his paws and heading towards her. “Are you worthy of knowing my name?” She asked, noting with satisfaction the dots of blood. Normally, she would be more free in telling her name - but only when it didn't come to a fight. It was exciting to finally meet an opponent when she truly had no need of fear. Despite the pain she assumed she would get if (and likely, when) he got a bite in, she was confident in her skill and power.

 Especially since she assumed the fog of waking would still make his limbs lag.

 She spiked inward, jaws sweeping to grasp for the right side of his neck. She grabbed ahold of his neck, charging forward and pulling right to shove him into the ground, a laugh of a snarl bubbling from her throat

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“Common”    “Loet'ah (Cheunh)”
#10
Quote
rolled a belly stab for 3hp damage. Andy @7/10 health, S'crow @ 4/10!


"A name is worthless-" he spat as she took him down with ease. It wasn't much for his lunge to be completely denied, her bypassing his pitifully slowing speed with the grace of a well-marinated battalion leader. She was easily able to take hold of him and ground him into the hot dust beneath their paws. He wasn't even able to brace himself, his front spindly knees folding under the weight and pressure.

However, his coy heritage allowed his cheeky brain to court desperation well, and in a sour pursuit under those suffocating waves, open jaws snapped on something long and hard beneath them both. Hoping, and being lucky in this silly hope, it ended up being a stick, dried out beyond belief and clearly of another place in the desert that had trees a nice while ago. Sand had worn the majority of the length down, yet the piece he hefted free from sandy tomb was light, and sharp. Scarecrow knew he couldn't reach her with his own fangs with her keeping him subdued via his scruff. Instead, his struggling jab back was low, and the angle she force his head up to be would only just tilt that sharp pike enough to stab her belly just a bit. He had no other way to get himself out of this humiliating situation but to be conventional. And if he had to gut her to do it, it would brighten his day.

Their first date was going rather swell. She smelled really nice.
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“̴͍̞͈̋̌T̷̫̰̋̓͜e̶̳̙̅͐͝ḽ̸̡̗͝l̴͚̦̮̯͍͚͌̇̾ ̵̨̱̪̟͉̄̆m̵͎̬͙͎̹̋ȇ̴̘̜̅̓͗̓͘-̸͉̰͙̬̟̥̆͛̂̋͘͝ ̵͍̩͓̣̣̀̽̒D̴̩͎͎̔͋̎̐̕o̶̻̥͂͊̐̽̄͠ ̷̛͕͈͎͓͒̑̊͗̈ỹ̸͚̱̼̟̼̖ó̶̮͉̬̻̋͌ȕ̵̼͈͇͂̍ ̴͖̫̈͗̓̒͆͝h̴̢̛̙͇͋̎ë̷͓͔́ͅȃ̵̞͒r̷̮̜̀̇̋͗̕͝ ̴̰̬̭̩͉͎͆́t̵̛̬̣̜͉̤h̵͖͗̊e̸̡̬̱̤͈̣͑̅́͐̅̅m̸̨̡̩̗̲͛̐̂̎,̶̢̬̜͉̩̓̈ ̵͉̳̯͕̹̐͂̾̄̕ẗ̷̘ő̸̘̏͘o̵̭̰̠̎͆͠?̵̢̗̹͉̪͘”̵̨̘͉̯́̒͆ͅ
#11
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Rolled 4 for damage
Andraste: 7/10
Scarecrow: 4/10 -> 0/10


 A cough of a laugh escaped her lips. Yes, a name was worthless - it could be changed and altered at will. Names were left behind like trails to follow, splattered and disturbed. One wolf might know one name and another would know a completely different name. Yet, the wolf stayed the same - or changed as years went by and more and more scars were gathered.

 A name, to Andraste, meant little more than a temporary identity.

 “You first.”

 She felt a sharp pain against her gut and snarled, lifting him and shaking as she dragged him away from his stick, which she saw now out of the corner of her eye with her blood upon it. A laugh gurgled out of her throat around bared teeth. “Ah, a crafty one are you?” With one final shake, she dropped him and stepped back, head lowered and jaws open to dive in again if she needed to.

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“Common”    “Loet'ah (Cheunh)”
#12
Quote
 Her bicolored gaze did not stray from the two but with the mounting tension, she knew that her presence would not be known. Especially when the coiled, stilt-like creature sprung at her kin. Her own body tensed for a moment, prepared for action so that she might assist Andraste... but it was clear that there would be no need. It would be an insult really, if she interrupted the battle-scarred woman for such a minor annoyance. 

 He was out-classed by far and so, with a huff of amusement as he was knocked away, the girl sat and watched with a haughty and amused expression. This was to be a show. Entertainment. Brought on by the disgusting beast's exercise in futility against a battle that was over before it had even started. No one of such a stature would ever be better by a mere commoner like him

 While they fought, he spoke meaningless words. He had no right to demand anything. He should be glad that she hadn't ripped off his tail and fed it to him. She wondered why she hadn't? Exalted would have, especially after he tried that under-handed attack with that stick. He was lifted off the ground and shaken like a ragdoll.  

 Her respect for the iron maiden grew. She would not suffer fools lightly. 

 She smiled and then laughed. What an amusing display. 

 "Will you kill him?" And take his head for a trophy? His head wasn't exactly pretty but it was the story behind it. 

 Besides, it was clear to her at this point that he would not put up much more of a fight. She had won this and could take anything she wanted from him. 


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#13
Quote
Her shakes were far from gentle, and he could tell she cared. Something would certainly be sore as she finished him off, sending him away with a curt release. She had sapped the remainder of his energy, their pairing a swift yet passionate one. He hadn't had a romp in quite some time, but he hadn't reached that peak yet, and ultimately he felt robbed. He would have enjoyed it, should she have given him that release- that ecstacy of finish-
Of death.

But as she had kept him from tipping over that foul edge of silence and sublime peace, he was now in debt to her. Her demands, her whims. Unless she had finished him off, his service was eternal as he walked by her.

And it ate him alive.

The ragdoll dog lie across the sands, not registering the sand that had been shoved of there causing abrasions, and soon a nosebleed to the delicate soft workings in his snout. His back had been to her, his tired body refusing to jitter as he was energyless. She had wore him out properly, and he loved her for it. She took his jitters awayyyyy...

"Call me whatever you wish-" his words came as he turned to face her, red tinting the fine sand once again from grained nares.

"I am your present, after all."

His lips began to rise in a twisted smile to her, and managed to, just as a voice called forth from shadows beyond them. An overhang of rock by the eye's rim held a soul, and smile still glued to his face he peered at the living void. He hadn't tensed-

but he rose halfway, and began to move towards the shadows, his walking shamble already going to drag his tired body to the new visitor who was not new at all. The question was in fact a good one! Turning back to the ivory hellion who watched him with something sanguine living in her eyes, he asked the question as well. "Will you kill him?"

His smile had never left.
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“̴͍̞͈̋̌T̷̫̰̋̓͜e̶̳̙̅͐͝ḽ̸̡̗͝l̴͚̦̮̯͍͚͌̇̾ ̵̨̱̪̟͉̄̆m̵͎̬͙͎̹̋ȇ̴̘̜̅̓͗̓͘-̸͉̰͙̬̟̥̆͛̂̋͘͝ ̵͍̩͓̣̣̀̽̒D̴̩͎͎̔͋̎̐̕o̶̻̥͂͊̐̽̄͠ ̷̛͕͈͎͓͒̑̊͗̈ỹ̸͚̱̼̟̼̖ó̶̮͉̬̻̋͌ȕ̵̼͈͇͂̍ ̴͖̫̈͗̓̒͆͝h̴̢̛̙͇͋̎ë̷͓͔́ͅȃ̵̞͒r̷̮̜̀̇̋͗̕͝ ̴̰̬̭̩͉͎͆́t̵̛̬̣̜͉̤h̵͖͗̊e̸̡̬̱̤͈̣͑̅́͐̅̅m̸̨̡̩̗̲͛̐̂̎,̶̢̬̜͉̩̓̈ ̵͉̳̯͕̹̐͂̾̄̕ẗ̷̘ő̸̘̏͘o̵̭̰̠̎͆͠?̵̢̗̹͉̪͘”̵̨̘͉̯́̒͆ͅ
#14
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The lustful bellowing of royalty, his silken rumble coasting across dimly lit sands. Vorona was sated, and it was in the best interest of those around him that he was. Yes. Gullet warm of honeyed flesh. His muscled bodice lay tenderly out in the clearing; an oil painting of ebony, white, all dressed elegantly by the heat that boiled behind closed lids. Of course, the virile had red to spare having stolen a summer-ripe pup from the teat of its family, and while some frowned upon such vulgar activities, he personally couldn't care less. It was illustrated justly in the way he groomed himself like the fat housecat he was.

Had this hunt truly been a matter of life and death? Maybe... But not for him. It didn't matter now, no, and as the morning stretched onward all the male could do was recline inward in the comfort of slumber. Though of course, such pleasantries couldn't follow him forever, eventually a message on the wind was brought upon him and it enlisted a jerk in his unconsciousness. An... Annoying, squeaking jerk.

The God stood, reluctantly, but no less handsome. Speckles of gold encrusting his pelt as lengthy legs marched; as paws carried forward.

Before him did cherry eyes catch two bodies huddled within arm's length of each other. Faces, although far off, he knew not by his own memory. Was it truly his business to intrude on the conversation... Or lack thereof... of strangers? Well, certainly. Why the hell not?

Even if the pale, clearly overweight one stood there like the lights were never on and the... More, well, he wasn't even sure if either of them were women, but more so this one. They were... Emasculating a weasel, it looked like. Is this what went on in the desert? 

Okay, so, maybe it wasn't his business, but he was a nosy bastard.

Blacked arms folded comfortably underneath his weight, laying down once more to observe, lounge, and, after realising the skunk-looking man was actually a canine, throw a bit of commentary. “Please tell me your so-called present has a receipt, there'd be a death threat on anyone who sent that to me.”


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#15
Formation
Quote
 The creature fell limp under her punishment and she watched him, dangerous eyes glinting. He shifted in the sands, speaking to her again, subservient. Well, he had damned well better be subservient after she gave him the gift of his life. Her lips twisted in vicious mockery as he smiled back - then her kinsman spoke.

 She had all but forgotten the presence of her ally, who had evidently been watching the interaction with interest. The coywolf moved, shambling and crumbling over towards her follower, legs hardly moving properly at all. She moved after him, stalking so that she could leap and shake once more if he decided that her kin was his next target. To attack in his state would be suicide. Was that what he wanted? Perhaps it was, as the question left his lips as well.

 He could be a meal. Not a good one, but a meal nonetheless.

 A presence besides her own was noted, sending a shiver running up her spine. A man, mixture of shadows and light, rested within the sand. He had, what, commented on the interaction, the scrawny state of the boy? Red eyes met red and she chuckled, looking back at the defeated creature. “You will be Nosebleed. If you ever think of turning fang or stick against me or mine again, your name will be Dinner. Her jaws opened in a slathering display, a warning beyond just her words. Her voice grew low, only for the ears of Exalted and the coywolf. “My gift to you is your life.” Use it wisely.

 Then, determining that her albino kinsman had it sorted if he tried anything more, she would turn her gaze back to the observer.

 He was handsome, and boy did it appear he knew it. He was covered in silvers and whites with a dark mask of fur about his face. His features though... If his face had resembled hers or Exalted's, she might have thought him kin. He was hulking, powerful - and she could sense a darkness just by looking at him. “And you, Наблюдатель?” She appraised his fangs, tongue washing Nosebleed's blood from her lips and trailing over her own similarly sized canines.

 “Are you a present or a death threat?” Or both? That was always exciting.

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“Common”    “Loet'ah (Cheunh)”
#16
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 After her intrusion upon their dance, the living pile of bones began to make his way towards her. Was he mad? About to push his luck and attack her? The woman lifted a lip, more clearly exposing her oversized fangs while she raised her tail. She was not one to allow another to push her and if he intended to test her, he would quickly find out that she'd put him in his place as well. 

 However, it seemed as if he had other plans as that strange smiling face turned back to Andraste. He asked the question again, seemingly unperterbed by it. Hm. Perhaps he was one-hundred percent mad. 

 Maybe he'd fit in just fine here. He'd have no qualms about doing Death's bidding. 

 Another voice intruded upon the shadows. New and old at the same time. The white wolf's eyes turned towards him and saw the mixture of whites, grays, and blacks offset with the ruby red eyes. Fangs extended past his lips in a display that the white wolf found appealing... but he didn't seem to be kin. He didn't hold all of the same traits that she and Andraste did. Still, he was... interesting... Far more appealing than the strange bag of bones. He certainly had her attention. 

 Still, the girl didn't remark and instead turned back towards Andraste as she dubbed the man "Nosebleed". Pfft, she scoffed, amused at the name. As if to accentuate what the warrior said, she ran her tongue across her lips and grinned. He'd have no mercy from her if he decided to act up. Of course, she doubted he would taste good but an offering of the flesh was still just that. 

 "Our battle-scarred harbinger is quite merciful. I shouldn't spit on her gift if I were you." She stepped closer to Nosebleed, hardly afraid of the man even though he was taller. She was certain she still out-weighed him and would be able to put him on his ass if needed. Perhaps even finish him off... but he seemed fine for now. 

 Her bicolored eyes would return to the eye candy that had dropped before them, waiting while Andraste courted him.

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#17
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Scarecrow watched the words dribble lethally into the sands below her hooked maw. While it would have terrified any typical soul into something much closer akin to a nipped pup who'd scuttle away, his heart beat for her words, every drip adding to the crazed and exhilarated song within the coy's chest.

Eventually she had stalked him only so far, where he'd turn to crawl himself slowly to Exalted, who had, in turn, took steps to be nearer him. He was distorted by how bright she was against the shadows she had stood within, seeming to have even brighter fur than that of his Pale One. Slumping in a splay of limbs beside her as she had come closer, he shared the proximity with the ivory cohort. Tenty brown auds latched to her words, and with it came nothing but silence. He would have no choice in the matter. Thus he would have to heed her...for now. His words beguiled meaning that he wouldn't clarify, as he murmured with a strange calm betwixt them. "She would do well to put him out of his misery." His dead blues were fully encasing the haughty male who strode before the Pale One with nothing more than a nasty slew of words to offer. Words that did nothing but cause annoyance in the unhinged coy.

"Encourage her to name him 'Dinner'." His dead blues smiled, while his lips did not. Nothing would have made him happier. Or fuller.
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“̴͍̞͈̋̌T̷̫̰̋̓͜e̶̳̙̅͐͝ḽ̸̡̗͝l̴͚̦̮̯͍͚͌̇̾ ̵̨̱̪̟͉̄̆m̵͎̬͙͎̹̋ȇ̴̘̜̅̓͗̓͘-̸͉̰͙̬̟̥̆͛̂̋͘͝ ̵͍̩͓̣̣̀̽̒D̴̩͎͎̔͋̎̐̕o̶̻̥͂͊̐̽̄͠ ̷̛͕͈͎͓͒̑̊͗̈ỹ̸͚̱̼̟̼̖ó̶̮͉̬̻̋͌ȕ̵̼͈͇͂̍ ̴͖̫̈͗̓̒͆͝h̴̢̛̙͇͋̎ë̷͓͔́ͅȃ̵̞͒r̷̮̜̀̇̋͗̕͝ ̴̰̬̭̩͉͎͆́t̵̛̬̣̜͉̤h̵͖͗̊e̸̡̬̱̤͈̣͑̅́͐̅̅m̸̨̡̩̗̲͛̐̂̎,̶̢̬̜͉̩̓̈ ̵͉̳̯͕̹̐͂̾̄̕ẗ̷̘ő̸̘̏͘o̵̭̰̠̎͆͠?̵̢̗̹͉̪͘”̵̨̘͉̯́̒͆ͅ
#18
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“It appears you and your... Russian... have something in common,” A liquored laugh erupted from frothy jowls, a singular limb outstretching from his sandy slumber as he grew slowly, strongly, to his full stature. Their candied eyes took him in eagerly, rippling bodice unfurling with each inch he took closer. He let himself sink into them; his trenchant musk, his elongated sabers, his dripping gaze. The brute going as far as to raise a paw to them, spreading individual fingers to leisurely lap the sands from clear webbings. He'd sit so close, so particular, that he'd encompass his new bevy with a softly blinking lid. “They're both dirty.” Though that was alright, why yes. His charming sneer made all things transparent. He found it arousing, cute. She'd tried her best. 

“I simply came for the cheap entertainment, unless you two require a higher fee? I'm assuming this is some sort of kink for the little guy or do bastards get in free?” He was a bastard in his own right, but this was beyond his comprehension. It didn't mean he wouldn't put on his best manners, though! He'd already pissed around the area, smiled once, if not twice at the ladies, and now he stood at an angle where the scrawny male could see his nuts... Respectfully, of course. “But please continue, I'll interrupt no longer.” Sitting beside them, resting his head upon his paws. He resumed waiting.



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#19
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Content Warning
This post contains content that may be unsettling to some readers, including:
  • Crude dialogue
 Andraste was aware of her ally rising to the challenge, showing a clear message in her form to the scrap-heap of a man: She too was not afraid of tossing him about. Exalted had the boy under control so the witch had her full attention on this blue-coated man, watching as he laughed at her words. Her lips fell into a smirk, “Well, no one ever called me clean,” she said, smirk turning into a grin. She was not offended by the jibe, instead watching with curiosity as he moved about, entering their domain. “Though you're as sandy as the rest of us.” Perhaps moreso, as at least she had the chance to descend into the bowels of the earth to bathe in the waters below.

 She scoffed cat his call for entertainment.

 “Ah, men. Always thinking that wherever their dick drips, they own the place,” she commented off-hand towards Exalted, humored by the pompous attitude of the man. She'd met many men, men who danced about with the idea that their mere presence meant something.

 Meant anything at all.

 Yet, she was curious and peeved all the same, a burning mixture of instinct and emotion rippling through her. “Perhaps if you entertain us, we'll let you sup with us.” She gave a grin, watching as the man acted as if he were already resident and landlord the same. “Unless you would prefer to take your chances with the sun - it rises early in my domain.” With no mountains in the distance to block its impending rise, the sun would soon warm the dry air into a fresh bake.

 He would do well to learn now that she would not bend the knee, despite him spreading his piss about and waving his delicates for the world to see.

 Her pierced gut, while no longer bleeding, reminded her of its presence with a sting. She had to clean it soon or bear the irritation of b- she interrupted the attention towards the newcomer with a laugh towards Exalted and her new plaything as a sudden pun caught her mind. “Nosebleed's bark is worse than his bite!” she said with a grin and a nod towards the stick that lay abandoned among the sands.

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“Common”    “Loet'ah (Cheunh)”
#20
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This post contains content that may be unsettling to some readers, including:
  • Sexuality
  • mild innuendo
 It seemed as if she had nothing to fear from the skinny man, he didn't rise to challenge her but instead sprawled to the ground in a tangle of too-long legs. Hmph. Good. Her tail would drop to that of a more neutral position as she sat beside him, looking down at those strange blue eyes of his. He was disgusting to look at but at least he was... submissive. At least after being properly put in his place, that was good enough for her. Although it seemed like he had some sort of death wish, with his words. The white wolf hummed thoughtfully but said nothing about what seemed like a quite hope for death. Such a thing was not her call to make and truthfully, she wondered if he tasted about as foul as he looked. 

 Yeck.

 Her gaze would be drawn back to the lovely hunk of male that had her kin's attention. She had no words to offer but instead watched, eyes not hiding the interest she felt for him in her gaze. Her first heat had not happened yet but it would not be far off, she knew. Perhaps in the next turn of the season or two but for now, she would be fine to just watch as he and her leader interacted. 

 One ear twitched towards the corpse-male as he spoke, words seemed full of malice. When she looked down at him his eyes didn't match what he was saying. The girl smirked. "Perhaps she will... in a sense." A crass joke but it was clear from the way she moved around him that Andraste would not be eating this one in that manner. 

 Then she caught the laugh from the white warrior and she perked her head up towards her... to hear the pun. Oh jeez... The adolescent rolled her eyes and groaned audibly at the joke. It seemed as if the woman was a fan of puns. 

 Joy.

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