Panic flitted through the female as she cowered in the forest, her body shaking like a leaf in the wind. She had almost lost it, her mask had slid and someone almost saw her true self. She had been caught off guard, the female had startled her and she didn't have time to throw up a mask. When the stranger asked what she was doing, honest and sweet, Othello had snapped her jaws in her face and spat at her, anger making her see red. The poor female ran, terrified, leaving an equally scared wolf behind her. She didn't meant to... she really didn't! The feelings would rush up with no warning, snatching away her body and taking over like a demon inside. This is why she wore her masks, this is why she hid her true self.

The white wolf stood up, placing on the facade that she found the easiest. It was the one that she had worn when she ran into Volaxis, one of a seductive femme. Taking deep breaths she settled herself into character, opening her depp purple eyes to view the dark woods around her. She would have to walk around with this character in place, fear of running into anyone knawing deep in her belly. So she marched through the trees, walking until the trees gave away to small bushes, and the soft forest ground turned even softer, sucking her paws into the ground. Picking up her dainty paws, she shook off the water, but it was pointless. It seemed like the lands here only got more and more like a bog, nice and marshy.

Othello's pretty little face wrinkled up as the marsh turned her snow white fur darker as mud clung to her. Ugh, how was she supposed to be all flirty if she was dirty? Mmm, maybe it could actually help. Letting out an airy chuckle, she felt herself relax under the ease of her seductive mask. It was very simple to put this one up, and it began to calm her shattered soul. She was distracted though, and was not paying attention to the area around her. She was too focused on regaining some sort of sanity that she had dropped her guard completely. If there was a wolf hiding in this mash, she had most likely sauntered right past them.

Looking around for a clean body of water to wash herself in, she finally took in the scent of the area around her. All she could smell however was the dirt and mud that clung to her, dampening her pelt and dragging her elongated tail through the ick. Well, Othello would certainly remember not to come this way again. It was going to take her ages to get all that stink out of her. Then at last the scent of fresh water crossed her nose, a small stream bubbling nearby. Trying to pick up her tail as she walked, she slunk her way to the water's edge.

Padding over to the clear, cold stream, she slipped her paws in one by one. When the mud washed off her her paws, the stream ran a bit darker around her coat. Shivering slightly, she began to clean and groom herself, humming softly as she did so.

One, two, three, four, that's the sound of an armies roar. A roar so much like a lion's, mistaking the white femme for a feline. Her rhythm, in motion, every fiber and molecule seemed to grind together in remedies of a melody. So on tune to her own demise, her massive paws creased the soft surface of the mud-covered ground, the beat of her own drums sounded as if bodies were dropping like rapid fire at her command. But instead, nothing but the solitude of her insanity leaked from her pores. The inner caliber of a serial killer, a murderer, a well rounded sociopath was caressing her masculine frame through thick marshes of the swamp that went on for miles.

A flowing creativity of her own making, which swirled around her soulless being with no exception of fading away. This creativity stood out above all, which certainly did exceed in having Sinister look like a pure phantom in the eerie moonlit night. But did this threaten to shred her walls down to where she would turn and flee with her tail between her legs? Hell no, that's not at all who she is, she'll always and forever be the one to laugh in the face of evil; challenge the devil for his kingdom and over thrown him.

Her stomach rumbled, indicating she was starved, which meant it was time for her next meal; her next victim to fall in the hands of defeat. Oh how she couldn't wait to ravish her late night snack with these darling, razor sharp, and blood stained canines of hers. That unholy pink tongue ran over her fangs, slicing into the tough muscle of her tongue, and at that feeling she lapped it back into her mouth to drain her own blood down her throat. Nothing like a little of your own metallic liquid, eh? Now, on to the business. Sinister wanted blood, she was getting anxiety from many miles she has been walking since her last departure from ones land, trying so hard to make further distance to her father as much as she possibly could.

Simply halting, feeling the beast inside of her rake at the surface of her flesh that kept the demon caged inside. Sinister rarely let the monster rage out, though the demonic wrath within her screamed out for vengeance. A scent, a smell so horrid and nose bleeding, that it sent her into over-drive. She has never felt this kind of surge before, one that lusted to tear into the epithelium of a female whom was near by. For the sake of this unknown she-wolf, Sinister wished for her to run and never look back, yet not even seconds passed and the evil wolf approached the white fae with caution. Muscles that scattered throughout her body, much more buff and colossal then this femme cleansing herself in front of Sinister. Sure, she looked like she could be under the impression of a male, but this masculine she-wolf was in fact a female. A quite intimidating, and terrifying one at that..

"Speech"
'thoughts'

The air around the pale creature seemed to grow thicker, as if something dark and evil entered the vicinity. The hum that had been spilling from her maw ceased, her whole body freezing in the water. Her long tail drifted down stream from her body, purple irises scanning for this dark being that had interrupted her quiet bathing session. When her eyes landed on a beast who shared her coat colour, her mask slipped. Even though they looked alike, whatever was inside that dame was sinister and dark. Othello may not be perfect, but she was far from evil.

Even though Othello was bipolar to say the least, something came over her then, and she let it. She usually fought back her own emotions, but something more basic was kicking in. Instincts. She didn't see to run into them too often. The damsel felt her own lips pulling back, her ivories barred at this stranger. She did not move from her position though, nor did she say anything. Her eyes simply bored into the beast, trying to get a reading on what she wanted. There seemed to be a base urge within the wolf before her, and she couldn't get anything off of her. Nothing except for the pure evil that roiled off her very form.

Othello felt the water softly pull at her leg and tail, slowly numbing her toes. That was not the forefront thought on her mind. She was unsure if she should run, or if she should stick her ground. The female's eyes were predatory, more so than an average wolf. It had been quite awhile before she had run into someone like this creature, and her mind was racing. Slowly taking her in, a small growl passed through her clenched teeth. She was nervous, but fear was not present. Okay, maybe a bit. But she did not let it take over, she instead focused on the base need to fight. That would keep her going in this battle. If it indeed came to that.

The silence that spread between them was driving her crazy. She needed something, she wanted her voice to break this barrier that wrapped its claws around them. "What is it you wish?" She asked, her voice sounding strange to her own ears. It was guttural and raw, no where near her usual pitch. But she was unsure, she didn't know if this was going to come to blows. From the look on her face though, it would most likely.

Othello's speech

"What is it you wish?"

Silence. That one annoying sound that buzzed endlessly in your ear drums soon took hold, driving it's talons into your skin and making sure to leave back some scars. Yet something stopped this on going cricket remedies by just the voice of the female before Sinister. Everything came washing over the evil wolf like a raging tidal wave, trying to grasp a hold of what this young women had preached at her. A few responses came to mind, though none suit her needs to let roll of the edge of her sinful tongue. She'd be telling a lie if she spoke her rights now, and this wolf was not to keen on lies. So, she had to rush into her senses and finally begin to unravel the deep obsession of unfathomable words -- surely one that could make anyone, mortal or immortal being melt with fear.

" What do I wish? ... Blood, that's what I wish for. Maybe yours, love?"

What she had said wasn't much of a question, it was a mere fact and statement. Intending on moving towards the femme, whom looked so much like her aside from the purple eyes and black markings -- the two were equally matched in appearances but Sinister had this unknown she-wolf beat by muscled fundamentals. Yes, Sinister is very powerful, and what she lacks in speed she makes up for in brute strength.

Baring canines so that now they flashed violently, her silver oculars beamed through the wolf's soul, aiming to shatter any boundaries she had up so that it would be a lot more easier to manipulate her. All Sinister wanted was a little taste of her blood, was that to much to ask? Probably, and they may end up spilling each other's blood here in about two seconds, but it shall be worth the while if it means blood has fallen. With her now soaked legs, her fragments rippled with the shifting of her muscles, and the fae stopped in front of the female she still has yet to know the name of. Sure, the two could possibly wind up becoming lifelong friends, that is, if this she-wolf can keep up with Sinister's demonic entrancement. Then we'll just have to see if Sinister can drop her walls down a bit to let someone in..

This time that the evil femme spoke she had the calmest, but still evil flourishing tone one could ever embrace upon.

" Names Sinister."


"Speech"
'thoughts'

When the other beast spoke at last, Othello had almost wished that she had stayed silent. Her body shuttered at her words, a low growl vibrating in her throat. While her fear did grow, something else did at well. This female was pulling at her mental health, maybe feelings crossing her own mind. Her facade had slipped, so it was very difficult for her to keep her emotions in check. While fear was there, it was being shoved back by a sudden and violent anger swung its ugly head. She snapped her jaws, her tail lashing out of the water, spraying bits of liquid all over both wolves. Her emotions were switching so quickly and violently, it was hard to keep track.

When the other walked around her, her eyes followed her every move. Anger flared and subsided, making her mind spin. It was hard to keep focus on anything, let alone on the circling fea. When she once again stood before her, now damp from the river, she noticed just how different they actually were. Othello was lithe and small, build for speed. This one was bulky and masculine, made for ripping and fighting. She probably could out run her, but that wasn't an option. This had not come to anything yet, while there were threats nothing had been played out just yet. Othello was no coward, she would stand and fight if it came to it.

While her emotions played tag within her mind, she watched the dame change feelings herself before her. Huh, so she was not the only one who fought with something inside them. Surprising herself, a small smirk lowered her lips and tugged them into a more pleasant appearance. She introduced herself as well, making the ivory dame realize she had not spoken again. "Othello." She stated simply, her voice still sounding harsh. The dame sighed softly, although she appeared more calm her hackles were still up. She was herself, and at the moment that installed more fear within her then this pale one named Sinister. Huh, fitting name.

"As for blood, do you truly wish to fight?" She asked, her vocals teasing Sinister. While she herself did not want to fight, her mixed emotions were confusing her own mind. It was hard to keep a single thought within her mind for too long. She kept jumping from one thing to another, clouding her mind and her optics. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head violently, trying to grab hold of anything. She blinked harshly at Sin, trying to hid her internal struggle from this stranger.

Fight? Did she really just challenge Sinister? Or did it just come out that way? Either way, this devious white wolf was ready for anything. That unbreakable barrier of lust and wrath, two deadly sins that overwhelmed her half the time seemed to make her adrenaline pump faster. Yet, she dared not let this one called Othello know this, so she kept her beast at bay for the mean time, wanting to know how this femme works before getting into any kind of battle. Sinister wasn't one to just rush into a fight without a good explanation, then again she killed without warning. But as she was getting older, this female was starting to realize that not everything needs to be settled with an all out war. Then again, you never know when that demon inside of her will unleash total chaos and there will be no stopping her. Instead of ripping her windpipe clean from her the depths of her throat and watching as she bled out before her, Sinister kept her cool and resumed on with the approach of that of what a sane person would do. Which is simply huff at the comment the fae had made and reply roughly with a disclaim, though the pending on her words were none-the-less non-mistakable as a mere grudge; tone hissing like a rattlesnakes, not wishing to preach what she was about to. " I would, but you seem like too much of a waste for my valuable time. I'd rather have something more foreign then the likes of you." ooc -- sorry for short post doll. next one will be worth the time to read <33 "Speech"

They were almost face to face now, both damp and both waiting for the first move. They were like cats waiting to pounce, taking each other in for all that they were worth. Othello could feel the beast that lurked within Sinister, she could almost see it curled and chomping at the bit to be set free. Both seemed to have tense muscles, anticipating the altercation that was sure to befall them. That creature within the dame is what held her back, she knew that her own rage would be no match for that of Sin's. Her very name made a statement about her habits, more so than just her body.

Othello wrinkled her nose when the being before her spoke, trying not to let her words get under her skin. It plucked delicately at her passionate rage, wispy fingers trying to pull apart her barriers. Violently shaking her head, she tried to rid the ghosted hand, but to no avail. The more her mind lingered at the message behind her words, the more fuel was added to the fire. She had been called worthless all her life, always the suppressed one. But what if she didn't want to be like that? She didn't want to cower away from everyone she saw, hiding from their thoughts as well as her own. She had been abolished and censored out of almost everything in her short years, and enough was enough. She needed to control her mood and grow the hell up.

As her backbone grew, her lips pulled further back from her ivories until almost all of the yellowed teeth were showing. She was not worthless. She was not going to take being a waste of anyone's time. "I have a voice, and its about damn time its heard." She snarled, venom dripping in her words. Although, as quickly as the anger took over, a deep sadness reared its head. Her lips remained pulled back, but her violet eyes watered at the great depth of suppressed listlessness. Othello didn't dare cry before this stranger, but it was too late. Clear liquid ran down her face, following the black marks that decorated her muzzle. With the misery and outrage mixing, she was becoming a whole new fiend. Her body quivered and twitched, her watery eyes looking crazed. "A waste of time I am not." She hissed, her gargled words spilling out carelessly. She didn't seem to be bothered about showing her inner, true self. That was her biggest fear for so long, but Sinister was bringing her into the spotlight.

Othello took a step closer to the pale wolf, raising her head to stare into her silvery depths. Blowing hot air upon her face, her cranium shook with the odd mix of emotions. "I should be worth someone's time for once. I have had enough of being beaten and scarred, enough of being told that I am not good enough. I am who I am, and you cannot change that!" A crazed laugh left her maw, and she was almost pushing her nose right into Sin's. Tiling her head to the side, she relaxed her lips and searched the dames face. "I will be suppressed no longer by a stranger. I will stand my ground." Othello's vocals had dropped into a dangerous whisper, daring Sinister to challenge her now. Sure, her lithe and malnourished frame would surly lose against the brute strength of the opposing female. But if she were to die tonight, she would not die a loser, a broken wolf. She was whole for once in her life.

Othello's speech "A waste of time I am not." Cries of horror came to Sinister's sunken ears, a war plagued it's way throughout her hushed being. The voices inside of her head raged on, whispering a tall tale that only herself could bare to hear. 'Ssssinissster... Kill thissss foolisssh dame... Make her bleed..' The hissing didn't stop, the demonic words attacked at the caged monster inside of her. She felt it deep within her bones, it's crackling growl developed in her throat only to be realized with such cruelty that not even the devil himself could handle. As much as this fae was trying to hold back the beast, it grew stronger by Othello's wrath. Almost like it was feeding upon her everlasting layers of sentimental disorders of pure madness. All at once the demon unleashed itself upon the female and everything faded to red, her vision blurred and Sinister was shoved aside by the power purge of her devilish puppet master. Nothing will be remembered after this, she has snapped and only the grace of god could these two she-wolf's be saved. "I should be worth someone's time for once. I have had enough of being beaten and scarred, enough of being told that I am not good enough. I am who I am, and you cannot change that!" While Sinister sat back and became the host of her own body her demon was wrapping it's tentacles around the situation. Watching through stern, cold silver eyes that promised death. Her words cut the icy surface, like metal on metal action had her treacherous brutality began. Heavy grunts vibrated against her concealed maw, breathing hot steam from the bullet holes of her nostrils as they flared. From how close these two females were it would seem that they were conjoined twins, but of course all barriers need to be broken. Like this for example. " Sssuch big words for sssomeone ssso ssmall." With those few words put to gather by the damned fae, she will soon have her round with this female. Not at all afraid of her well programmed speech, it was put together with courage and a whole lot of treachery. It would seem to Sinister that this femme wears her tragedies as shackles, much like she did, but neither of these two wore them as armor. Maybe that was one of the problems, maybe that's one thing they are alike in rather than being so differently articulately toned. And yet the female still did not know how to keep her mouth shut. Othello again went on preaching her rights. "I will be suppressed no longer by a stranger. I will stand my ground." ?Kill her, Sssinister? Kill her? Ssshe doesssn't dessserve to live? Sssuch foolisssh bloodssshed? It?sss not needed? Ssshe hasss no idea how to kill... Get rid of her? Get rid of thisss ssshe-wolf? Kill her Sssinister.. Tassste her blood, feel it beneath your pawsss... Do it.. Kill her.? Ssshow her what real killing isss all about...? The voices inside of her head repeated once more, making her muscles stark to ache from the tenseness they were receiving. How urging it was to lunge at the young women, and indeed she almost had. Though more nonsense fell from her venomous tongue. "Then stand your ground you should, for when the time comes there will be no saving you. If it's a fight you want, then it's a fight you shall get. But do realize what you are getting yourself into little one.." Casing her blood-tainted tongue over her victorious canines that flashed dangerous at the females face. Certainly her words were meant to cut deep, hoping to make something inside of Othello snap and she will be greeted with someone more worth fighting. Oh how Sinister wanted her to attack, wanting to observe her skills, and use them to her advantage. Though it wouldn't take long within the battle for the she-wolf to plead for sanity, for redemption. Walk,"Talk", Think

A change was happening within the beast before her, cracks forming on the barrier that caged the demon. She watched as the being struggled with herself, a battle raging on within. She let out a sound that make her shake, the sound that escaped her maw was not from this world. The change kept rolling onward, making her head reel as she tried to keep up. What was happening? How was she going to handle this? It was slightly frightening, but her fear would simply simmer next to her growing rage. Watching Sinister grow into a more terrifying creature, she knew that she had to let her anger win over if she wanted to live.

Her hissing words made her growl and snap her jaws. She may be small, but she was mighty when she let her feelings rule her. Othello's swinging moods only seemed to aid her in this situation, where in all others it hindered her greatly. A fight was coming, she could taste it in the air around them. The humidity from both their anger crackled between them like lightening, fueling them both. While a battle was looming, both pale females seemed to be putting it off, but why? Why had they simply not launched at each other like the animals they were? These thoughts would need to be thought over later, she couldn't concentrate on such things right now.

And snap she did. Those words tore through her, unlocking her own inner being. No words had the chance to pass her lips as she let out an angry roar, aiming to lock her jaws around Sinister's muzzle. It was the closest thing to her, and she hoped to taste her sweet blood in her mouth. Talk was over now, there was no time for that. Jumping away from the dame, she used her smaller, agile body to quickly leap out of the river and onto the soggy ground, no longer caring that it sucked at her paws. It teased her, trying to draw her into the ground. But no, she was faster. Hoping that she was faster than the white female, she attempted to again bite her, but this time along her white tail. It was a sensitive appendage, it would hurt if her blow indeed landed.

Othello let her hate fire rage, her purple eyes darkening as she stood upon the mostly solid ground. Her muzzle skin pulled upward, showing almost all of her teeth. A bloody battle was sure to unfold here, most likely going to be fast and vicious.

ooc : sorry for the shortness dear, I slammed my finger in a drawer and it hurts to type :(

the false king under the mountain must fall

"Ooh, someones feisty, seems I've hit a nerve? Have I not?" Sinister dared, an insane laughter fled from her mouth. Her eyes shown the psychopath in them, the demon was having a lot of fun with this one. All it took was a quick move of her neck, so that now she avoided the she-wolf's attack at her muzzle. Firing back with a much more aggressive bite, her canines seemed to drip venom from their sharpened points. Saliva clung to the corners of her lips, making her look like a savage.
Finding her way over to the femme, her eyes dilating a bit to focus in on her small frame. Though Sinister had to admit, she was a fast one but unlike most wolves she knew exactly when someone was going to strike. Like now, Othello went straight for her tail, and instead of pulling away she simply allowed her to hammer her fangs into her tail flesh. Sure, it might have hurt, but how should she know? Right now everything involving pain she was instantly immune to, for when you get that adrenaline pumping in your veins there isn't anything you feel for your mind it set on the task at hand.
Lashing her tail from the women's maw, seeing blood start to fade her white tip to blood-red. You'd think that would horrify a person, but with Sin, she was delighted by the sight of red. She let a crackling growl start to ravish her throat, head rotating to glare depthless optics at the she-wolf. In that instant, she hadn't wasted time before purging forward in attempt to smash her fangs into the upper flank, where her neck was located. Aiming to drive her swords(canines) into her flesh, wanting her to bleed, tear layers of her muscle until she saw pink skin invade.



"Speech"

For a crown is not fit

for a king unworthy of its power

So it was on, a fight was finally breaking between the two. It has been long awaited, and Othello danced from paw to paw in anticipation. Her first blow missed, but she had not had high hopes for it. It was more of an act of savage than a calculated move. So when she dodged around the female and latched onto her tail, she was more precise. It landed, her ivories sinking into the short layer of skin and the dames blood pooled into her waiting maw. Sin then ripped it out of her grasp, driving her cut further along her tail. The white appendage soaked with her life energy, and Othello grinned. Sinister's blood trickled down her maw, making her too look like a blood crazed beast.

Othello was weighing too much victory in her small mark, that when the demon before her struck, she did not move out in time. The female shrieked as her skin was punctured, although perhaps not as deep as her abuser may have wished. She has pulled back at the last minute, her fangs breaking through the skin to the left of her neck. Using this to her advantage, she aimed to chomp down on Sinister's ear that lay by her jaws, hoping that the female would let her go without her having to tear a chunk of her own flesh out. It was dangerously close to her jugular, and it was far too early to bleed out now. She wanted to win, she needed to win!

The two stained females seemed to be at different odds, and Othello knew that she needed to stay away from her jaws. Sin was stronger than she was, not build for speed like Othello was. She needed to stay at her back, or to attack her lower half and then dodge out of the way. It was hard to think of at the moment though, with the faes teeth locked on her skin.

the false king under the mountain must fall

She wants to play the cat and mouse game, huh? Then lets give it to her. From the roof top of her sanity she started to shove her way back into her body, trying to regain herself but the beast inside of her was stronger than she had thought. And with this power came the blood lust. As Othello's own metallic embrace slid down her throat, igniting her lungs with its scorching liquid. She was absolutely loving this taste that was ravishing her insides.
Noticing that she too was fighting back, aiming to grasp hold of her ear. As much as Sinister did not want to release the femme, she had in sake of her ear to still be attacked to her head. She may be one to never back down from a fight, but she knows when to bite and when not to bite and this was the time she needed to retreat. As in doing this, she moved into the darkness, manipulating her own ways of making herself the phantom in the night. Her chuckles, filled with a bloody massacre and brutality. She was having her monster start to take over even past the line she never let it cross. Her crown twitched to the side, insanity taking hold, wrapping around her body and squeezing all this sane walls she kept up to come crumbling down. She was no more than a puppet to this evil raging through her veins; every molecule and atom pulsing through her doubled in size as she obtained that demonic demise that vibrated off of her.



"Speech"

For a crown is not fit

you're a king unworthy of its power

It took a lot out of her to not just rip this dame's ear off. She restrained herself though, she needed to use it as leverage for the beast to let go of her chest. She pinched her teeth slightly, just enough to cut small little nicks into her audit. Then finally she was released, and a sigh came out of her maw as the slight pain faded. Because of the rush, the full amount of pain her wounds would carry was not yet felt. They were superficial, at least for the moment.

With careful eyes she watched as Sinister stepped back, her white coat shining in shadows. She saw that she was soaked with her blood, which only furthered her anger. But she just stood there, making no move to attack her. Slightly confused, Othello stood there, regaining her posture. What was going to unfold now? Was that it? Did she only want a simple taste of her blood, and nothing more? Othello was still being careful though, watching the beasts muscles to see if they coiled or got ready for movement. Whatever she was planning to do, she simply awaited her to move. She was faster and had a better chance at dodging and counter attacking than to run at her head on.

"Speech"
'thoughts'

The child before her seemed a little tense, Sinister could see her muscles knitting together for a moment then releasing and shuffling back under the layers of white waves. The evil she-wolf was not phased by the females speed, how she could dodge her attacks and strike much faster than she. But let's say this, Sinister had fought slimmer wolves then she, and all of them were standing over their own corpse. Her rippling frame, bottled with continuous seas of aligning bridges, were shaking from impact of her demon as it raged further onward. Halting behind the female, blinking silver optics at her before speaking in a hushed tone. No emotion flashed upon her demonic features, no grin or smirk caressed her face, only the fuse of her draining hatred shown. Blood began to ooze from her mouth, intertwined with her own saliva. Though the blood was not hers, instead it was Othello's. The taste of the she-wolf's blood was pleasing to her, sating that hunger she craved for blood lust. Her tail had stopped bleeding, leaving only a few stains to crusade it, and yet no pain came to her.

" I would and I could ravish you right here, right now, but something about you sparks my interest. You aren't intimidated by me as much as I thought, though the fear courses through your bloodstream. Yet you dare not give up, and I like that.."

ooc ;; sorry doll for short post, low muse.

"Speech"
'thoughts'

The words of the opposing female startled her, causing her to pause and tilt her head. So were they not fighting? "Thanks...?" She said, confusion swirling in those purple irises of hers. So where would they go from here? She was unsure, so she just looked at Sinister for quite some time. Were they just to shake paws and go back to their normal lives? Say thanks and part ways? Blinking several times, she finally spoke after the long pause. "Come here often?" Lame, she knew, but it was all she could think of. Plopping down on her rump, the full extent of her injuries reached her. Her chest ached, the pain stabbing through her confusion. Her face twisted into that of pain, and she bent down to gently lick it. She would need to clean this later, maybe seek out help from one knowledgeable on herbs. Looking briefly up at Sin, she wondered if this dame knew how to treat the wounds. A little spit and dirt, she would probably say. She snorted, going back to calmly licking her wounds. Sorry babe, same here. XD