Lips Of An Angel
07-10-2013, 07:53 PM
The wolf was his sister. Perhaps it was the way that those two words were said, perhaps it was her sense of danger finally kicking in, but suddenly Orica realized fully the danger she was in. The game board changed suddenly. Before, though the lone hunter, though absolutely horrible, hadn't been able to hurt her. Okay, well, yes she probably still could've gotten hurt, but as long as she could find her paws she could run her rump out of there and there was no chance of him following for more than a few painful strides. Now, however, there was another wolf. 'His sister'. Those two words so subtly implied that this second wolf was as dangerous and murderous as the first. And, worst of all - she was not injured in anyway. There was little guarentee, in fact, there was little chance Orica could outrun this coral eyed two-year old. For a second she considered it, but there was something inside her that told her running now would only ensure that a chase followed. Fear was half of what predators fed upon. One of her hind legs shifted as she took a step back. But that was when the unthinkable happened. The brute with the gash down his belly, rose all the way to his paws, and, as if that weren't enough, began lumbering forward. At the very first shifts Orica, despite herself, had felt something akin to worry. She almost called out for him to stop! He'd hurt himself. But then she realized he was moving towards her. Orica's ears fell back, but no other part of her shifted. She understood now. They were going to kill her. Her heart beat like a rabbit's as the male came forward, stray blood drops dotting a small trail as he did so. She could've still outrun him maybe - though if he could do this then who knew what he was capable of- but she couldn't outrun that female. No, if they'd made up their minds to kill her then there was no escape. It was fear like that that could paralyze a wolf, or scare them out of their wits til they lost control and ran like he--. But it didn't do either to Orica. If there was nothing she could do about it, then there was no point in showing fear. As the murderer came up to her at last, she stiffened and remained still. It would be quickest if she held still right? She wondered if he would go for the throat and be done with it like a normal hunter or if he would tear her apart like the rogue had down to Asheni. The pup didn't move. Her eyes, wide open, but clouded and distant, watched his clenched muzzle for the fist signs of attack. Only the bob of her throat showed how scared she was. But the next moment the male was turning away from her. He took up a stance between herself and the pale sister. "Leave her be." Orica heard the words of warning come rolling out of his muzzle, but she wasn't sure - maybe she was dreaming. She blinked, her eyes becoming clear and focused once more as they ran back and forth between the two adult wolves, trying to figure out what in the world was happening. Then came the sister's taunt, and again that velvety voice sent shudders through Orica's spine that all of the male's growls and snaps while she'd been healing hadn't managed. The young and helpless... Unfortunately that was Orica at the moment. No use taking insult from such descriptions this time. No, the words that caught her attention were the first ones. Orica stared up at the white-grey mountain that was the brute's back. He... he was helping her, wasn't he? He... he was defending her. But what was that supposed to mean? A second ago he'd been saying how much he enjoyed killing. ....So why wasn't he killing her? Well Orica couldn't look to the other fae for answers, she seemed just as confused, and furious, too. Orica was trying to translate everything in her head. The bad girl was mad at the good girl. The bad guy didn't want the bad girl to hurt the good girl. For this, the bad girl was mad. Okay, that made sense. No. No, it didn't. That made things so much worse. Why would a bad guy do that? He'd just gotten through insulting her and cursing her and telling her to leave, a-a-and now he was trying to keep her from getting killed? Which, looking at the other fae was definitely still on the table. That instinct was still, there, telling Orica not to run. If she ran, the sister could catch her and kill her and the hunter wolf wouldn't be able to get there to get in between them again. By some strange twist of fate, staying close to the murderer was now her best bet. And Orica did, stepping closer and trying to angle herself out of the female's rose colored gaze (she obviously didn't like having to look at Orica) and she did so, she came near enough to brush against the male's tail, unconsciously telling him where she was that she was sticking close. She hadn't yet figured out why he was doing this, and for the moment she stopped trying to figure it out. Miracles aren't meant to be dissected. |
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