too sick to pray
10-17-2014, 08:37 PM
'Friend' that was an interesting way to say 'slave', now wasn't it? If she were a true member, Kylar would have introduced her as such. No, the brute was very certain that the little white creature was Arcanum's newest plaything. He smirked, eying her as his inkling solidified. "I can't say I have." Perhaps they should get to know one another better. That sounded like a good plan, didn't it? His gaze abandoned the pretty white fae to grace the person of the disgraced queen. She was dirty, her pelt marred with caked dirt and blood, and various wounds dotted her body. Cataleya's prize. What would his mother do with her? Keep her as a trophy? Make her the lowest kind of slave? Valentine ghosted closer as the russet femme began to stir. Moving to stand over her, the brute would lift a paw to turn her face towards him, his head lowering to examine her features. He took in the missing ear, the wounds on her muzzle. Her wounds went deeper than her physical being, that was for sure. Her upturned eye, a vivid green, didn't appear to be focusing on him despite his nearness. She needed the services of a healer; a series of skills that he didn't possess. However, it was possible that she wouldn't be suffering much longer. That was entirely up to his mother. His eyes turned to the Arcanum Queen, brow lifting in a question. He wished to keep this fallen regal, this prize above prizes. It was a cruel want, but that didn't stop him from desiring her captivity. What exactly he would do with her if she were his, he had no idea. He just wanted to know what it felt like to be in control, to possess someone, and yes, to be depended upon. "Speaking" -- Thinking |
NOTE: Valentine has a female striped skunk companion named Lefty. Unless stated otherwise assume she's present.