holy tits on a stick, thank you muse ♥



Oral appendage lathered velveteen lips stained crimson as she attempted to rid her visage from the remnants of the fallen renegade?s gored corpse, a wince playing across her facial features as the salmon-pigmented tip of her tongue grazed the lacerations upon her upper jaw. The wounds moderately stung but the bleeding had subsided, leaving minuscule trenches to line the bridge of her muzzle where her adversary?s incisors had pierced. She had received minor wounds for the most part that would heal in approximately a month?s time or so, opt to leave scars to taint her otherwise ethereal countenance, but it was a petty price to pay for thieving the life of a traitorous fool. She had lusted to witness the death of the assassin the moment she had entered the battlefield and the woman?s insipid words greeted her ears, and had finally been granted to fulfill her desire with her own jaws months later. The white queen had never quite been so gleeful to watch the downfall of another before that ecstatic moment when the renegade had fallen victim to her jaws, and she knew the feat would remain a major milestone in her life no matter the impending events of the future.


She had fled the premises of the crime scene with the faith that the crowd would disperse upon her wishes, although a slight doubt had consumed her once her former king had come to mind. But, he had accepted that one of his lackeys would meet with their untimely demise, and had thus fallen subject to the winner?s demanded terms. Should she hear word from any that he had established a burial site for the deceased assassin even after she had stated her command, the male would undoubtedly lose the already-dwindling amount of respect she had held for him. As for the unknown bystanders to the carnage, Morphine could only assume they would leave the carcass without hesitance, or perhaps even rip into it themselves for neither seemed to have any sort of attachment towards Cyanide. After all, the ice queen had recognized Kaios? presence upon the sidelines of the arena ? Alacritis? infamous, self-proclaimed cannibal. Surely someone would do away with the carcass if that intriguing bird turned his beak up at her generosity.


"speech"

His gut full, though on what was questionable, he followed her, tracking her as quickly and as far as he could, curiosity burning deep within him. He sought her as if he were a moth seeking light, the scavenger hunting the predator as if she were the prey. It was not her bones that he wanted but her company--the murderous shadows of her personality were more than just attractive to the bearded vulture; they were magnetic.



Ezekiel spotted her alabaster pelt among the earth with ease and wasted no time in gliding down to her. He was not a parrot, nor any other shoulder bird, and he didn't dare try to be. Instead, he glided before her and landed fairly ahead in her path and folded his wings to his side, unafraid of what he considered an ally.



"Oh, my pretty,

my alabaster sweet...

You dispatched that woman

with the skill of the elite.



"My blood, how it boiled

as I watched you kill!

It shivered down my spine

in form of deadly thrill!



"Your name, your calling,

oh, love, you must deliver.

I must have it lodged in my mind

like a persistent sliver!"


The praise of Ezekiel was hard to come by, and he wished dearly that she would accept it. Opposites, as it seemed, weren't the only ones to attract.

"speech"

holy tits on a stick, thank you muse ♥



She maneuvered along the bank of the winding river, metallic eyes never once wavering from the depths of the ominous waters as she attempted to pinpoint an area with a gentle current that wouldn?t swoop her away off into the nether. Although the traitor?s blood was adorned like a trophy upon her tainted coat, she had been in enough brawls to know that the wounds she had received during combat would need to be cleansed before they were complicated any further with infection, so the removal of her crimson robe was inevitable. She halted near the water?s edge as she found a comfortable area to plunge beneath, but before she could launch into the depths of the river, the sound of flapping wings alerted her to the presence of the massive bird that had offered her words of encouragement at the start of her fight. Her muzzle inclined in the direction that the bird seemed to be coming from, her pupils tracking his gargantuan figure as he glided overhead, causing her neck to crane at on odd angle while her gaze followed him. Finally, he took his land a few feet away from where she had rooted herself, peculiar rhymes sputtering from his beak in an attempt to please her. A smirk presented itself across her countenance as the creature?s speech concluded, amusement evident in her expression. ?Morphine,? she obliged his request softly, gaze flickering back to reside upon the flowing waters of the river before her muzzle extended down towards it, tongue lapping at the water to quench the thirst she had accumulated over the course of the battle. Once her thirst was sated, she drew back to her full apex, allowing her attention to fully focus upon the bird. ?Did my gift appease you, bird??

"speech"

Ears drank in that sweet name and he allowed himself to release a low croon, beak clacking and beady eyes boring adoringly into her. She had handled herself with expertise unmatched, dispatching her enemy with greater skill than an assassin. Not only did she do that, but she had offered him the kill. Oh, so many bones! Oh, what glee!



"Your presence is enough

of a gift to me.

Call me a suck-up

but you fill me with glee.



"Her blood on your lips...

Oh, the shivers down my spine!

My arousal would be great

were I a lupine!



"My calling is Ezekiel,

but it matches not Morphine--

what are dry old bones

to the name of a queen?"



Another croon wavered from his lips, cracked with his usual tone but oddly smooth for his normal mannerisms. The obsessive stalker lusted desperately for her company, requiring it and feeding upon it. She was a pure gem among the swine of canines that roamed these lands and he would cling to it as long as physically possible--or else he'd keep it by force.


"speech"

holy tits on a stick, thank you muse ♥



The creature seemed fascinated by her, borderline infatuated by very exact presence, and as he gazed longingly in her direction, she could not help but succumb to the amusement he had offered. She would have chortled had she not contained herself as his rhythmic speech wafted through her auditory passages, realizing that she hadn?t been mistaken and that he truly was admiring her, gifting her with pretty words and praises that might have swooned her had he been of her own species and far less creepy with his vocals. But she?d humor the bird anyway, a coy simper drawing across her tainted facial features as she bent her left forelimb outward, pressing the dainty paw lining it against her the plush, crimson fur upon her chest cavity to display her gratitude in the most demure of manners. ?If I could only blush, how pink I would turn,? she purred easily, her words convincing although her message was insincere. She planted her paw back against the earth then, waltzing off to closer the proximity between them, an undeniable sway to her hips. As she neared where he had perched himself, she plopped her rump to the grassy terrain, her mass greeting the earth with a dull thud, gaze never straying from his form. ?Ezekiel, you flatter me so. You are quite different from the other birds ? yes, much more beautiful in plumage with a far more impressive wingspan. Tell me, my sweet, how high is it that you can fly? Surely with your wings you could soar high above the treetops!? she asked innocently, giving a slight cock to her skull for effect. Yes, he would prove to be a much useful ally to her, so she could play his game, hopefully captivating his loyalty so that she may utilize him to her advantage. She might have been an alluring little babe, but she was far from kind; it was much too bad for the creature that was unaware of her true intentions.

"speech"

He was a bird with a purpose that he deemed to be restricted to unnerving others and devouring marrow, and though ambitions haunted his mind often, it never crossed his mind to pursue them. Instead, he enjoyed allowing others to do his dirty work, taking pleasure in the quarrel of the petty lupine beasts that were so easily manipulated, angered, and freaked out. So when the white fae began to actually flirt back, it was safe to say that Ezekiel's mind nearly shut down with surprise.



He froze, eyes blinking rapidly at her, features as concerned as a creature with a beak could display, only large movements being the turn of his head to watch her, taking in the sway of the lady's hips and their plop upon the earth near him, bloodied sight seeking out her silver optics, brow furrowed. After a few more moments, he seemed to recover, tearing his eyes away and straightening suddenly, ruffling his feathers with more vigor and sharp movements than would ever be needed.



"Oh, dear, oh, dear,

the shivers down my spine!

Perhaps if you hadn't said that,

they'd be a little more... sublime."


His tone was a mixture of puzzlement, bewilderment, and even a little awkward. For the sharp-tongued bird capable of almost any rhyme, the state and presence of discomfort seeded upon himself was an abnormal phenomenon that was nearly press-worthy. The vulture quickly began at an attempt to repair his verbal and emotional mistakes, trying to return to his smooth lyrics as quickly as possible.



"I can soar where I wish

at any place and time

with this wingspan and undying wit

and my lovely knack for rhyme.



"But what matters most

is what you seek

in this world,

beautiful freak!



"Who else will you kill?

Whose blood will be shed?

Who will next oppose you

and will you take their head?



"Is there a pack you want--

a realm to rule?

A merry little land?

If so, I'll fool

whoever I must

to let fate deliver that hand!"


Ezekiel had returned to his usual mannerisms of swaying slightly with his self-constructed rhythm, weight shifting from side to side in time with his words, making his rhymes work at any cost despite some inconsistencies they contained.

"speech"