Last week's star
05-03-2017, 10:50 PM
Every so often, the black masked woman would find herself bored of Auster. Having spent the majority of her mortal life on the southern continent, Naamah knew almost every inch of the place. She had been quite the little explorer and a runaway in her puphood, abusive parents seemed to encourage more independence than imagined. Today, however, Naamah was not completely herself. The dark witch was ill and short tempered, with winter approaching she found her tolerance of anything female diminishing, and more of Lilith was beginning to come to the surface. The banshee inside Naamah screamed for release, clawing and tearing away at Naamah's resolve until she finally gave the she-beast her head. Tempestuous and cruel, Lilith laughed with a dark satisfaction at having won the mental struggle against her charge. Naamah's pupils dilated until the mismatched red of her irises were only an outline, her body gained a relaxed yet regal stature and she carried herself with a careful grace. Her paws graced the earth with no sound, as if she floated like an apparition. As she stalked forward, her head lowered to be level with her back, and she raised her tail to be parallel to the ground with a slight curve at the tip. Vos habe in mente ut satus est bellando? Naamah smiled internally as Lilith smiled physically. Deep husky tones formed the throaty laugh of the woman, her voice smooth as honeyed whiskey. "Eadem illa existimans quae cogitavit." Their temper and the odd bonding time that she had with Amon had her edgy and - even though she owned no territory - she felt a particular need to rid the area of females. Lilith was crabby and she moved along the banks of the Rio Grande until she spied a slip of white against the browning grasses of the riverbank. She halted, dilated eyes taking on an eerie intent as the very temperature around her seemed to grow colder. There was a sudden tension in the air as the dark goddess eyes the white wolf, waiting for the other to notice her staring. Stalking forward, Lilith takes a few long stiff-legged steps and halts, eyeing the woman as her black flag raises to fly above her hips. There was a hum in her veins, a thrill at finding a perfect punching bag. There was little control to the woman, but she held herself back for now. Only watching and staying far back from her. Her fangs showed, white painted black lips lifting to reveal flawless white knives that were perfect for piercing. An audible nightmare came to life in the form of a heavy, rolling and very territorial growl ripped its way through her throat. Holding her position a few yards away, the goddess knows she can be heard. Lilith hated women, some could be tolerated, but on days like this one - and so close to winter - Lilith would rather attack than talk. "Naamah" "Lilith" Think Scroll over for translations. |
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