Dabbling

They were almost face to face now, both damp and both waiting for the first move. They were like cats waiting to pounce, taking each other in for all that they were worth. Othello could feel the beast that lurked within Sinister, she could almost see it curled and chomping at the bit to be set free. Both seemed to have tense muscles, anticipating the altercation that was sure to befall them. That creature within the dame is what held her back, she knew that her own rage would be no match for that of Sin's. Her very name made a statement about her habits, more so than just her body.

Othello wrinkled her nose when the being before her spoke, trying not to let her words get under her skin. It plucked delicately at her passionate rage, wispy fingers trying to pull apart her barriers. Violently shaking her head, she tried to rid the ghosted hand, but to no avail. The more her mind lingered at the message behind her words, the more fuel was added to the fire. She had been called worthless all her life, always the suppressed one. But what if she didn't want to be like that? She didn't want to cower away from everyone she saw, hiding from their thoughts as well as her own. She had been abolished and censored out of almost everything in her short years, and enough was enough. She needed to control her mood and grow the hell up.

As her backbone grew, her lips pulled further back from her ivories until almost all of the yellowed teeth were showing. She was not worthless. She was not going to take being a waste of anyone's time. "I have a voice, and its about damn time its heard." She snarled, venom dripping in her words. Although, as quickly as the anger took over, a deep sadness reared its head. Her lips remained pulled back, but her violet eyes watered at the great depth of suppressed listlessness. Othello didn't dare cry before this stranger, but it was too late. Clear liquid ran down her face, following the black marks that decorated her muzzle. With the misery and outrage mixing, she was becoming a whole new fiend. Her body quivered and twitched, her watery eyes looking crazed. "A waste of time I am not." She hissed, her gargled words spilling out carelessly. She didn't seem to be bothered about showing her inner, true self. That was her biggest fear for so long, but Sinister was bringing her into the spotlight.

Othello took a step closer to the pale wolf, raising her head to stare into her silvery depths. Blowing hot air upon her face, her cranium shook with the odd mix of emotions. "I should be worth someone's time for once. I have had enough of being beaten and scarred, enough of being told that I am not good enough. I am who I am, and you cannot change that!" A crazed laugh left her maw, and she was almost pushing her nose right into Sin's. Tiling her head to the side, she relaxed her lips and searched the dames face. "I will be suppressed no longer by a stranger. I will stand my ground." Othello's vocals had dropped into a dangerous whisper, daring Sinister to challenge her now. Sure, her lithe and malnourished frame would surly lose against the brute strength of the opposing female. But if she were to die tonight, she would not die a loser, a broken wolf. She was whole for once in her life.