wounds so deep they never show, they never go away

The moon was full, fighting it's way through the storm clouds to glow upon the strange world the ebony wraith had wandered into. Everything was bleached to bone white, and it felt unbearably wrong for something so pristinely pale to be draped in shadows. As she stepped out of the bizarre forest of ivory vines and trees, she entered a new world of alien creatures. Immense stones were carved with runes she did not recognize, and they were wrapped in an unearthly glow. Ears would flatten as the rain soaked bodice of the obsidian bitch lowered to creep closer. What the fuck was wrong with all of this? She had evaded the deadly winds by sticking to the creepy forest, but now, out in the open, she was buffeted by them. Her small frame was rocked back and forth by ever changing blows from the gusts of wind hitting her from all directions. Charcoal tipped banner hung loosely at her hocks as she came closer, edging towards the glowing stones with curiosity brimming in her mismatched gaze. As she entered the ensconcing embrace of the boulders ringing around the stream, the wind lessened, but the torrential downpour continued it's onslaught. It was eerily quiet here, and it made the woman uneasy. As she stood tall and gazed down into the glowing waters, a voice called to her. A familiar one, a growling tone that sent shivers down her spine as fury boiled her blood. Tiara would whip up as she snarled at the apparition. "Fuck off." She snarled, directing her hate at the man who so resembled her eldest brother, Hati. "Now, is that any way to speak to your father?" The voice would inquire, chuckling darkly. "I hope you're burning in Hel." She barked, long banner lashing with hatred. "Oh, but of course." The tormenting specter would murmur as it faded away, taunting her one last time. Turning to leave, she marched out to the edge of the ring and looked out upon the alabaster trees being whipped back and forth by the onslaught of wind. Maybe she could wait until it lessened. Sitting down, she fought to bring her hackles back down. Her muscles burned and shook with fury, until she couldn't contain it anymore. She lashed out and struck the stone to her left, dragging her claws down it as the shrieks of pain it voiced burned into her audits. Pulling herself back together, she sat there and let her anger stew.




"Speech"

like moving pictures in my head, for years and years they've played

Shilah's pace was rapid as he slipped over the terrain, body moving in a graceful, almost flowing motion. The recent storms and the partial eruption of the volcano had created a den of choas and Shilah was trying to help wherever he could. However, it was difficult to travel in this weather. More than not he'd find himself having to double back. Shilah's stomach rumbled but he ignored it. He hadn't been without food all that long and there would be time later to hunt once he found a decent place to rest for the night. The sound of water caught Shilah's attention and he scented the air. Hmm? he didn't recall any signs of rivers or streams around here. A lake perhaps? He was getting rather thirsty. Shaking off the wind and the sounds of rolling thunder he moved on into a strange man-made place, long since reclaimed by nature. It felt strange here? there was an odd presence here and when Shilah closed his eyes he could feel it. A scream rang out in pain and anger. Another injured? Shilah took a deep breath, preparing himself and then headed in the direction of the scream, preparing himself for whatever he might find. He's seen various injuries from sprained ankles to full on castration. Caught by the wind as he broke into the circle Shilah stumbled. Dam? there was a storm moving in for sure. He looked across the way and saw an ebony fae about his age sitting there. "Excuse me! Miss are you alright!" He called out over the wind as he started to move toward's her, pausing as he passed the pool. Speech

The torrential rains seemed to continue here. But Sin much rather preferred this over the choking ash cloud in the northern lands. Although the wind and the water were rough, it was nothing he could not handle. Fur became drenched, clinging to his form. The blood that marked his fur remained brilliant and bold against the pure white of his pelt. A result from the killings he had done during his life, marking him as such. A killer. A murderer. The fallen angel that not even Hell wanted. And yet he walked the lands doing odd tasks. He found himself aiding women whose babes were being born. Other times he found himself in a decent conversation with others, however, those were only the rarest of days when his mood allowed him go be civil. Other days, he was fighting, raping, killing, terrorizing...he cared not for the lives of others, except for a very select few. And so far, only one woman had managed to gain entrance into that gate. Hissing, the beast made his way towards a structure that looked as if it could shield him from the rain. The clinging of his pelt to his skin annoyed him, and he wanted brief refuge from it before moving on. As the crimson beast entered, he would shake out his large form. Water being sent in all directions as he then focused his sights all around him. This place was rather different, solid, protected. Even for a human structure, it still seemed quite intact...and perhaps useful in the future. It was then, the smell of another would take his attention, and Sin would creep forward upon silent paws. Alas, two figures would come into view. So, he was not just in the company of one...but two. And the black one was female...this would be a rather interesting encounter, Sin had been looking for a bit of fun. He approached, stalking towards them like a ghost undetectable. The smell of blood began to permeate the air, as usual giving off the scent that made most uneasy...especially since it was not the blood of normal prey, no. It was the blood of his prey. The prey that dared crossed his path, the prey that dared defy and fight back. The prey like the wench Illja who dared ignore his previous warnings. Surely this wench would not dare cross those lines if she knew what was good for her..."Ah, so others are here as well...I knew the smell of wet dog from the pair of you was unmistakable." He uttered, voice unfriendly and riddled with nothing but the darkness he always emanated. ""

The form of a dark wolf appeared soon enough, worry creasing his features as he inquired as to her well being. Rolling her eyes, the femme looked over her shoulder and nodded. "Of course, am I supposed to be injured or something?" She asked, both rhetorically and sarcastically as she turned to face him. Taking in his relatively average appearance, she was already bored by everything that had occurred. Well, at least her father's ghost had left her alone. As a ghostly figure approached, the scent of blood was everywhere. The coppery smell filled her nostrils and made her gag, which she covered up like the perfect little actress she was. A somewhat attractive man with sanguine markings all over his frame approached, commenting on the smell she and the dark man radiated. Sighing irritably, she shrugged. "From what I've gathered, I smell like sexy wet dog, so I don't really give a shit." She replied, mismatched optics flitting over the muscle coated frame of the stranger. Something told her to tone down the sarcasm and sass, but she wasn't always eager to listen to her conscience, it was no fun.






talk, think

"Of course, am I supposed to be injured or something?" Shilah didn't even flinched. He'd treated all types of wolves before and knew that pain generally brought out the worst in others. He dimly recalled the pregnant female he'd helped before he crossed the border into the lands of Alacritis. He still had the scar on his left leg where she'd attacked him in her fear and panic and of course he couldn't blame her. Not all wolves knew of the nomads and a strange male was always a threat until proven otherwise? and even then sometimes still. And speaking of strange wolves another male appeared, snow white and covered in dry blood. Shilah immediately knew he had to be a pack wolf. The stench of blood on his coat was bound to warn prey of his prescience long before he could make a good kill. He was mostly likely relying on his pack for sustenance or from scavenging. Shilah's fur stood on end as he eyed the male warily. It was not lost on Shilah that the blood smelt like wolf blood. He'd treated enough wounds to know. "You do not smell very appetizing yourself, Sir." Shilah's tone was stern and wary. He glanced back at the femme, he smelt no blood from her and she seemed to be doing alright. It was possible here wound was one of the heart or mind. Both difficult to treat if not impossible. Lightning flashed in the skies above and Shilah held silent. Waiting to see what might happen before he made his leave. Speech