Lips Of An Angel

N/A · 07-09-2013, 06:48 PM

He didn't need her help. He didn't need anyone's help. He was perfectly fine on his own. Sure, it hurt like a bitch to move, but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to survive. He was strong, stronger than most. He would walk away from this just fine. A little sore probably, and covered in blood, but at least he was alive. Anyone else who would've been his situation would've probably sustained life threatening injuries, probably died, but not Demyan. It was going to take a lot to get rid of this hellion. A little hoof scratch from some stupid moose and splinters weren't going to do the trick. Mother nature would have to try a lot harder if she wanted to eradicate him.

But despite his musings, he didn't move, didn't make any kind of protest as the little black and white female came to his left side, crouching before him, her little face serious as she studied the wound. He should've just snapped her neck and been done with it already, but for some reason he couldn't. She smelt of pack, it was the first thing he had noticed about her when she'd approached him. So killing her probably wouldn't be a smart idea. If his incident with the white bitch was anything to learn from, it was harming a pack wolf always back fired. At least for him anyways. If he were to do something to the youngster in front of him, he had no doubt that there would be severe retribution from whatever pack she belonged to, most likely from her father, unless somehow she was an orphan with no family to respond for her, though he seriously doubted that. A hiss slipped from his clamped jaws as she began applying the mashed up herbs, an irritated snarl rumbling in his chest, audits flattening against his skull. Fuck, that shit hurt so much. He wanted to shove her away, but she was already nearly half way through applying the herbs. Guess he'd have to stick it out.

Half through the wound she had to go back to get more herbs and Demyan took the opportunity to voice his pains, bellows of pain erupting from his jaws, pale lips curled into a vicious snarl as he stared down towards his chest, wanting to rip the damn herbs. How the fuck were they supposed to help if they were stinging the shit out of him?! And then she was back, mashing up her new of herbs to continue right where she left off, her smaller head tucking beneath his left forepaw as she worked her up on the wound, nearly reaching the top. She was in such a vulnerable position, so easy for him to snap her spine and kill her, but his jaws never opened to deliver the killing bite, simply stayed shut, the only sound coming from them being the occasional grunt, hiss or snarl in response to her application of the herbs. Her steady application lead her up to the top of his wound, her smaller head even with his jaws. Again the thought of killing her crossed his mind and yet he made no move to bring his thoughts to reality, cyan gems flickering across her dual-colored face, looking to meet her own blue gems only to dance away before she could notice. He couldn't let her know that he was watching her. He wasn't supposed to want to look at her. He was supposed to kill her and then disappear into the shadows. What the fuck was wrong with him?

And then she was done, taking a step back to admire her work, her trilling voice suggesting that he stay still lest he went to bleed out, while asking him if he was fine. Cyan gems narrowed, though the usual blood-lust and malice was missing, a rumbling growl of a word slipping from his clamped jaws. Fine. He huffed, turning away, unable to meet her sincere gaze, glaring down at his chest, wanting to rip the damn herbs off but knowing that was probably one of the most stupid decisions he would ever make.

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