Sometimes it was a lot easier to be lost than to know where you were actually going. Maybe it was better, it seemed to give a sense of wonder and just a bit of fear. The feeling of fear was often useful and kept one on their toes, more aware of their surrounding when compared to an area that the beast knows. That is how the white creature felt now, carefully making her way up a larger hill. She wanted to claw her way to the top, to make herself feel as if she accomplished something. There wasn't much that Othello was proud of, even less so when it came to herself. Making it through a day without dropping her facade, make she could hold a bit of pride in that. But it was becoming less and less frequent, her mood swings were becoming more and more violent.

She could almost see the crest of the hill, light shimmering on the barren peak. While it wasn't much, the site still brought a small smile to her black lips, a rare thing indeed. Maybe there was a certain beauty in seeing little things as small wonders... The dame simply shrugged her shoulders and clambered onto the very top of the hill. Looking down, she knew that it was rather pathetic to hold such high feelings for climbing a dinky little hill, but one thing at a time. It was hard enough for her to get through every day without ripping someone's head off, it wasn't that bad to be proud of this. Sighing softly, the female lifted her head and surveyed the landscape around her surroundings. It was quite quaint here, the sunlight shining on the muted browns and greens that made up the earth here. Simple, yet elegant. Perhaps this is why she felt drawn to this place, it reminded her of herself.

Othello pulled her elongated tail forward, picking out twigs and sticks with her teeth. That was the one downfall about her tail, it seemed to pull half the hill up here with it. Grunting, she fought back the irritation that threatened to boil over. She was not going to let her emotions win this time, they could not take her over like she was some sort of pawn. She would not be the play-thing of her own emotions. No! She was in charge! The dame needed to calm down, she was getting to worked up about being in charge. She was letting them win. No. No! She was the leader here! She was the head of this body, she would not let them win. "No!" She howled, her shrieking voice shattering the silence of the landscape. Her purple eyes seemed to cloud over as pure rage filled her body, white hairs standing on end. She was in control... Othello's lips pulled back, ivory teeth glimmering in the light. She snapped her jaws, her tail flying behind her like a banner. Her hindquarters twitched as she fought to regain control of her emotions. Was it too late now?

Othello was falling into the black pit of her own being. 'Can you hear me? I'm falling, falling...' She wanted to scream, but it came out as a guttural growl. The dame hung her head, squeezing her eyes shut. No! 'I am in charge!' Her mind screamed. Now her whole body shook, seeming to convulse as she fought this internal battle. Opening her eyes, she saw that she was tremoring. She knew what was next, and she could feel it in her toes. Her tail thrashed behind her like an angered cat, and then it was over. Her eyes rolled back into her skull, and her shaking body stilled. She slumped onto the hard packed ground, an audible thud sounding. Laying as still as death, her body rested from its convulsions. Her emotions had won yet again.

'I'm in control...'

Pregnancy had kept her locked within the confines of her home. The Queen was going crazy, but she was unable to travel very far form home. Today was one of the days she ventured out on her own, sweeping the lands surrounding her home in search of new wolves she could bring to her pack. Silver audits would twitch, hearing the distance screech of distressed voice. Curious, the woman climbed the hills, eyes spotting a pale shape of woman who's back was to her for the moment. Reaching the top, the woman would stand several feet away from the stranger, watching her curiously. The woman seemed deeply distressed, though nothing appeared to be physically wrong with her. A perpetual smirk tugged at dark lips as the Queen stood silently, merely watching. The pale woman slumped to the grown, looking as though she had died. The Queen would clear her throat, hoping to catch this woman's attention. It appeared as though she had something she needed to control or that she wanted to forget. Perhaps the temptress could help with this. The woman had taken many under her wing and turned them into something great. Maybe this one could be added to her list.

The crisp sound of a cleared throat awoke Othello from her quick slumber, making he jump. She turned around and looked at the female with sharp purple eyes. She was dangerous to be around right now, and by the look of her swollen belly she was caring life. Slowly standing on shaky white legs, she shook her head as her tail twitched behind her. "You shouldn't be here." She hissed, her voice guttural and raw. Her body twitched slightly, not giving up on making her look completely mad.

She met the pastel eyes of the gray female, her head jerking to the side. "Please go." She said, choking on the words. "I'm not safe." She warned, her lips pulling back as her ivories glistened. She snapped her jaw together, her teeth clicking and grinding. She didn't want to harm her, not while little lives were being created inside her.

The would jump to her feet, her words a guttural hiss. She was determined to chase the Queen away. A brow would lift and her smirk would widen. I'm not safe. A low bubble of laugher would rumble in her chest. "Oh my dear, neither am I." Pregnant or not. Tongue would caress her maw as she watched the woman hungrily. Pale jaws snapped in her direction, causing the Queen to growl in warning. If this woman attacked, the Queen would not have the control to keep the woman alive. She would die. "Perhaps I can help you." She would purr to the woman, coaxing her out of her bubble and into the open. The woman had a dark side, all she would need was a little work to learn to control it. However, there was a little problem. This pregnancy had made the Queen crave blood. The mere sight of the woman made her drool. Limbs would take a step, bringing her a little closer to the woman, her eyes hungry.

She would be lying if she didn't admit that the fae's words surprised her. At first glance, she just saw a pregnant dame, swollen belly full of life. But upon closer inspection she could see the hunger in her pink eyes. Othello was a fool to so quickly over look that, focusing instead on the obvious. That however, did not stop her from snapping her jaws, her emotions ruling out logic. She got a growl in response and couldn't help but grin crookedly at her. She would never fight one in her condition, fierce or not. She would not be able to live with herself if she harmed the unborn. It would eat her up from the inside.

Help? The enraged beast seemed to stand awfully still with her confused purple eyes shining. Help her? How? No one cared enough about her, nor did they ever offer to help. "How can you help me?" she asked, her voice more normal sounding. She was intrigued, how did this stranger think they could help her? Her father thought that he could break her, and shipped her off with some lone wolf who tried to beat the sickness out of her. Othello's hackles began to settle, it seemed that this simple offer meant a lot more to her. She was some what calm, although being the firecracker she was, there was no knowing if she was done with her little tantrum.

Hungry pastel eyes gazed back at her, the dame walking closer. But Othello needed space, she needed her room to breath. Shaking her head, she took a step back, adding a few more to widen the gap. Her hind legs kicked a stone off the crest of the hill, startling her. She had forgotten about her surroundings, and almost walked off the top of the hill. Panic began to ensue, her mind spinning. Whining softly, her eyes grew wide. She was trapped, this stranger had cast a net and caught her.

For a moment, the woman seemed to calm enough to pose a question. The Queen would grin, not answering right away. Before she even got the chance to answer, the girl was backing away from her, nearly falling off the edge behind her. Again she lost control, eyes filling with panic as a whine slipped form pale jaws. The little dove had finally realized she was caught. Her grin quickly turned malicious as coral pools watched with interest. "I have a pack, my little dove, one that could help you control yourself, to use your strength that you insist on burying." Velvety words rolled off her tongue, silver limbs pulling her another step closer. "What do you say? Join me?" The Queen had already claimed her with words, now she could either come willingly or blood would be shed and it would not be pretty. Dark jaws salivated at the mere though of tasting this woman's blood. Jaws parted fractionally, salvia dripping from her lips. Eyes continued to the roam the woman, watching every twitch of her muscles, nostrils inhaled her scent, she would practically taste the fear.

Othello didn't miss a single hungry look in the opposing female, the blood lust was thick in her pastel eyes. Her ears lay flat against her skull, caution clear in her guarded eyes. The dame brought up a pack, calling her a dove. Blinking a few times, she furiously shook her head. Packs were not her thing, too many wolves around all the time. She couldn't wear a mask 24-7, it would be too tiring. "I can't... I'm not good in groups." She said softly, slightly afraid of how the dame would react.

The dame had a feeling that this would not go down, the look of want for shed blood only grew in the females eyes. Perhaps the little ones growing inside her craved a food of another time. Oh well, she would not fight her. Sure, she would most likely get beaten down, but she would take it. She would not risk harming the unborn.

Panic was clearly written on the pale woman's face. She was backed into a corner with no place to go. But the girl would deny her offer, causing lips to curl in displeasure for the briefest of moments. "Aw but my dear, you would fit in well with my pack. You see, the wolves I control like their privacy, like to keep to themselves. I merely have called them all together to train them and turn them into a powerful force." The pale woman made no move to fight, even as she was trapped within the Queens grasp. Good girl. Thick plume lashed behind her, waiting for the girl to submit and join her ranks. Either way this one would be coming with her, whether is be now, or later, when she had rid herself of the life growing inside her. But she would come for the girl. "Now what do you say?" A smile curled her lips, the silver woman standing her ground, refusing to give her any space to escape.