just a little bit colder

The wind howled, an eerie and captivating sound. It was a noise that sunk deep past the defenses of her ginger pelt and shook her to her core, spurring her onwards in her stride of haste. The bitter lass’ jaw tightened in defiance to the god forsaken forest and surged onwards, muscled legs trotting forwards; her gait hurried and ample. She’d heard of the beast that lurked in these woods, and though Salana was not one for fear, she couldn’t help the anxiety that pooled into her gut.

And yet, at the same time, there was the taste of thrill. She almost sought it, almost hoped that he was on her trail now, chasing her through the dark woodland.

Salana came to a brisk stop at a trickling stream that flowed freely through the territory, thin physique rippling with healthy muscle. She was a scrapper; evident in her gangly, athletic frame wrought with the freckles of scars around her ankles and her mouth.

The wolfess lapped gratefully at the cool water, allowing herself a short reprieve from her hurried journey. She had no destination, only an objective: get the hell out of these wounds, preferably with her pride intact. She had a sneaking suspicion she would do neither.

@Vengeance

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No one entered the woods without his knowledge. Without the rats whispering in his ears, or their smell sounding the bugle to spur him into a hunt. The woods were a buzz with life one more, visitor after visitor coming after months of silence.

It excited him.

The smell of a woman running through the trees and blanket of mist toward the stream for a drink. Like any predator, he knew this was where he could corner her... back against the waters and should she choose to swim he would follow after. Few left the mist unscathed and those who did would remember the beast that lurked within.

The bubbling sound of water began to fill the air and his gait slowed, long, powerful strides carried him forward at a saunter. Those fiery rubies focusing on the sinewy female who bravely took a drink of water - at this moment he ceased the chance to announce his presence with a deep rumble.

Never stopping his approach; nor did he speak. Giving her fading seconds to speak up as the distance between them quickly faded with every commanding step forward.

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He descended upon her, she had heard him coming. The snapping of twigs beneath his hefty paw steps were like the toll of a bell, and Salana kept her back turned as the foliage shook, announcing his impending arrival. His scent, sickening and repulsive, swallowed the clearing in brush like a rolling fog and tightened like hot coils around her throat, bringing the wolfess’ eyes to widen briefly. 

She felt his eyes lingering upon her form, and finally, Salana moved to turn, backside pressed against the edge of the stream tensely. She was cornered, and the only option was to dive and swim to the other side--yet she did not move, stoic despite the lumbering beast that closed in on her. There was something depraved within the beast’s gaze, unveiling a disturbing ferality. And yet, for some odd reason, Salana felt comforted by it. 

The fur along her backside and her hackles bristled, yet the woman pressed a paw forwards, as if reaching out towards the masculine. 

 “Wait-” Salana managed to force the word out, amber and mossy eyes flickering up to his hungry gaze. The wolfess took a few hesitant steps forward, until she found her rhythm and began a slow, sensual stalk around his form, her side brushing up against his scarred frame.  “At least introduce yourself.” Salana mused, voice sultry, despite the panic that thumped within her chest.

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Scurrying around his feet were a few rats. Fleeing from behind him to find their perches amongst the roots and branches of the trees nearby. They usually watched and waited for someone to bite the dust and feed off the bones left by the Bogeyman himself. One unfortunate rat wasn't quick enough, and a screech echoed in the mist as it squelched and crunched under his weight. Never breaking stride. Only a little slide of his toes he marched forward, unbothered by the new sensation between his toes.

She asked for an introduction, and he scoffed. Those yellowed fangs glimmering in the pale light, greenish hues now joining the stains of unkempt teeth with reddish undertones of past fell by them. “Your new nightmare.” He was so certain of himself as he approached. Her unflinching self either making it better or worse for herself, he couldn't be certain... nor did he care. The results would be all the same.

He rubbed up against him. Tone and dance both sensual and hesitant. He could smell the fear emanating off of her. A perfume like none other. Even more intoxicating than a bitch in heat who's garden was just waiting to be seeded. It made him pur with a horrid roll of those sinister vocals. “I want to hear you scream because of me.” And remember him, let she be a warning and a reminder that the Nightwalkers still claim these lands. Stronger than any enemy they encountered before.

Like a shark stalking its prey he turned after her. Head parallel to the ground as he stalked after her. Teeth nipping at her thighs as soon as they were in reach. He'd let her decide the next moves. Accept her fate, or make this a little more interesting with a chase. He grinned viciously, hungrily at the thought. Bright rubies glimmering from their tilted position under thick brows. What will it be?— another nip, this time aiming to pinch and cut if given the chance to.

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Evil in it's purest form. She sensed it upon him, could smell it upon him. His stench was repulsive, and it was buried into the very depths of the forest they stood within -- alone. No one would be there to save Salana from the grips of the Devil himself, and even if there had been another, they'd surely die before the hunter's quarry was stolen from him. The red lady could do nothing but relent to his demands that came in the form of impatient nips at her already shaking thighs, yellow stained teeth threatening to shave off the wavy ringlets of fur that covered her gangly frame. 

She could feel it in her bones that denying him would mean death. But it did not mean she couldn't try to at least find some enjoyment in it, participate in a losing battle of dominance. 

Her back paw threatened to slip over the edge, to send her tumbling down into the steady stream below and the she-wolf lurched forwards, using his gargantuan frame to keep herself upright still. And then, without thinking, she ran. Before he could react, before his teeth could strike gold against her scruff, her legs carried her in swift, sporadic strides. Through the dark canopy of the reach she fled, every so often throwing an amused glance over her shoulder, just to be sure the beast was on her tail. And closing the distance quickly despite his heavy weight. 

“Be a man and catch me, nightmare.” She teased, mocked, looking to stoke the flame that was his angry, violent temper. She was playing a fool's game, and yet she could not help herself. Excitement pooled in her chest, in her stomach, and yet the lingering dread was all too surreal.

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The soft ripples of still water disturbed behind her, echoing in a faint cry through the still woods. He was no stranger to tangling in its abyss. How quickly they lose strength and breath in grasp in comparison to his. He wouldn't mind drowning someone again. A rare treat. To watch their bodies float by in the stream, so serene after a violent struggle. A sight he longed to see once more -

but not today.

She brushed past him, her curves curling around his musculature. He pushed into her even as she used him for stabilization. Just as he thought she resigned herself to the fates - she ran - and his eyes grew wide and mad. Adrenaline pouring through his veins and spurring him forward toward her. But he wouldn't chase.

No.

He'd turn. Away into the mist - around. He'd cut her off. He'd follow her scent from a distance. The rats scattered knowing their duties, watch the trees and her path should the female escape him somehow. These were his woods after all. He knew every short cut, every path that was carved which should be a natural decision to follow for a panicked woman to try and flee in... and should he be wrong, the rats would alert him.

He'd catch her, but not from behind. The woman was leggy, lean, built more for speed than he was for brute strength. He wished to cut her off. To use the mist and his terrain to his advantage. To toy with her. If she chose to be evasive and play his game, then let the games begin!

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She had underestimated the bogeyman, severely, and now she'd pay the price. 

He had disappeared from view in between the time she had torn her gaze away from him and back to the forest stretching out before her. With a single fling of her head over her shoulder, the anticipation she'd been devoured by had quickly bled into a looming pit of dread, bringing her sprint to an ample trot; and then, she halted completely. Her ears rotated in tow with the skittering of tiny feet and the mocking squeaks that infiltrated the fog around her--his minions, his rats, scurried voraciously through out the forest, tiny beady eyes peeled to her. But she could not see them. 

She could not see him. 

Her heart thumped, thumped at the speed of light. It threatened to rip free of her thin chest, a bird slamming violently into the bars of the cage it resided within. Her head whipped around to the north, to the south, to the east and the west as she searched desperately through the dark woodland, attempting to catch any glimpse of the fiend's dark pelt and his glowing ruby eyes. But there was nothing. Until there was something. From the trees he barreled forth, a murderous titan hellbent on catching her. Salana only narrowly avoided the collision of his heavy body, managing to whirl around before he could turn around and fire another attempt to catch her. The she-wolf panicked, and instead of flight, she chose fight like any Minerva worth a damn would. If she was to go out, she'd go out spitting. 

“Get fucked!” It was a squalling, furious cry. She shouted with all the air that was within her lungs and launched herself forwards, landing atop the brute's body and unhinging her jaws to try and sink her long incisors through the thick hide that protected the back of his neck. She clamored to stay atop his back, but it'd surely not be enough. It'd be a losing fight, but it was one she'd start with a bang. 

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When their eyes met again, a creeping grin split his maw. A rolling coo akin to a soft growl welcomed her back into his net. The squealing of rats in the trees welcomed their king as he approached, ready for the entertainment and possible promise for food to come.

His lunge missed, and jagged claws dug into the dirt and rock with a scraping sound as he quickly changed positions to circle his body to face her once again. Already the woman was on his back, and he would give her props for such bravado. He liked them rough, tough, with a fighting spirit. But with her body now half in the air, draped over his back to grab hold of his scruff with new, fresh, bloody wounds as she sunk her fangs into the fleshy, fatty tissue; the woman was now exposing the soft flesh that most would guard safely in moments like these.

And a wounded, bloody, scarred and bruised scruff would be nothing to him as he ceased the chance to lunge at the soft flesh of her exposed inner thighs. He could have tried for her belly - but that would end things too quickly... instead he opted to cripple her, even if it would be just temporarily by sinking those disease ridden fangs into the tender, fatty flesh of her legs.

Should he succeed the man would yank back and away, toward the other leg to swipe the last standing foot and rid her of her balance all together. She could have all the fun she wanted with his back and scruff if she wanted, but in the meantime, he'd shake and pull at her legs like some whelp with a new chew toy.

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She hadn't been expecting it, too blinded with panic and anger to notice the way he'd aimed to snap at her back legs. At the sudden pain that lashed through her lower body, the wolfess snarled loudly, one that was ridden with pain just as much as he was ridden with fleas. Then swipe. Salana all but lurched forwards when the balance was knocked from her paws, sending her crashing into the forest floor. 

A mouthful of dirt awaited her, to which she reeled; her head was suddenly abuzz with nausea. Delirious. The air had been knocked from her lungs and she wretched, gasping for air. This was it. She was toast. She was either about to be murdered, or used for this bastard's pleasure; neither were preferable, but if she had to choose one, the ladder would be what she went with. Gods be damned. The woman rolled over instinctively, glaring into the eyes of the bastard above her. 

He had her exactly where he wanted her, and there was no use in resisting anymore. She'd had her fun. All excitement that had once presented itself in the woman had fleeted whenever reality came crushing in and her game turned into doom. She'd snap her jaws at him, orange eyes flaring with ferocity. “Get it over with.” She could hurl, vomit. She was disgusted. 

 

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Adrenaline poured into his veins. She had taunted him, riled up the beast and there was no calming him down now until he tired himself out. His skin prickled with lightning as blades of fur rose along his spine.

The bitch toppled. In her jaws was flesh and fur she took with her on the way down. Whether she choked on the chunks or spat it out while gasping for air wasn't noticed. Everything was a blur as he thought of a single thing. She fought him. Fled. Tried to escape his grasp and failed - he loved it, but she wouldn't.

She was already in the position, but he barely waited for the ginger to make herself comfortable before he was already on top of her. Plunging himself into her and using his weight to keep her in place, his jaws on her scruff pulling the woman toward him and down into the filth beneath their feet.

He was a conqueror after all. What Vengeance wanted he took. Whether they accepted it or fought it.

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