Just A Dream

(As Aly has posted that she is leaving the site and I already submitted, I'm assuming the tail removal has gone through and PPing that attack.)

** WARNING slightly graphic, foul language. **

Pain, fierce and white-hot, flooded through him suddenly. In a moment of weakness he had stumbled, and his mistake was quickly taken advantage of. He felt the sharp teeth clamping down on his tail, jaws shaking vigorously from side to side. He felt adrenaline coursing through him, felt blood draining from his body as the bitch chewed his tail like a chew toy. He would struggle against her grasp, but he had been shoved to the ground, her weight bearing down on him just enough so that he could not rise quickly enough to escape from her attack.

The normal reaction would’ve been to weep, to cry out in pain, to beg for mercy -- but Kapra was far from normal. Instead he began to laugh. Manic, jovial laughter as he felt his own cartilage snapping under his opponent’s jaws. Oh, the pain was sweet… painful, but sweet nonetheless. Only victory might be sweeter. His vision begins to waver as he turns his head, searching for his cousin. A mess of blood paints the earth, but the scent is not of Katja’s blood. For the gods he has bled, and for the gods he will continue to bleed; ceaselessly, until every last drop of his blood stains the earth. And despite his failures, he knows he has pleased them, and eve more than that he knows that Katja has undone some of their wrongs. The initial adrenaline begins to course through him and subdue just as quickly, and the laughter softens as his world begins to slip away from him.

Through his hazy vision he saw her then. A woman with a dusty brown coat and a white marking splattered across one of her eyes, turning to leave. Oh, she was a strong, gorgeous thing… a fighter if he’d ever seen one. Jaws unhinged, visibly salivating as he watched her, his chest heaving from the battle that he had lost. He was a picture of mania, of bloodlust and intensity as he stared, his eyes wide and unblinking as he saw her.

“Freyja må ha sendt deg til meg,” he mutters under his breath, slipping into a tongue that he has not spoken in some time. "En gave fra gudene, sikkert ..." There was no doubt in the zealous brute's mind that she had been sent her for him, to signal that they had somehow won the favor of the gods. Perhaps his tail had been a sacrifice of sorts... a token of his unwavering devotion, of the fact that he would give them anything until he was nothing but a pile of bones and blood.

“I haven’t seen a woman so... fuckable in quite some time…" Eyelids batted slowly as he felt his consciousness fading. Slowly he would struggle to rise, slinking to her unsteadily, blood draining from what was left of his tail to cast a trail behind his staggering form as he attempts to close the distance between the two of them. There was a hunger in his voice, despite the weakness that crept into his deep tones.“Hvordan skulle jeg gjerne for deg å ha din vei med meg..." His lips were still turned upward in a smile as he looked the stranger up and down once more. “If you find me again, I swear I will be yours.” There was nothing romantic in his lyrics, nor in his intentions; he was depraved and in his delirious state, all he could think of was the warmth of a woman and the pleasure that being on top of one might bring to him.  A weak laugh was offered before he began to crawl away, fatigued and quickly growing delirious from blood loss, but knowing he had to find Katja as quickly as possible before he fell entirely unconscious and left to bleed here among enemies.