Forest Fires
She had kept the old man's corpse into the den he had once occupied and Pari was huddled at the mouth of the den. Her eyes scanned the horizon frantically, a whine pulling from her lips, everything about the woman spoke to her unease. Pari had considered maybe leaving the island several times over the past week, but she was incapable of really making that choice, paralyzed by her lack of orders. The woman hadn't eaten in some time either, she hadn't had the will to feed herself since the old man passed and her usually slight frame was veering dangerously towards unhealthy. Not that she cared much, Pari's sense of self worth had always been underdeveloped, tied directly to how well she had served her masters. And now? Well if she didn't have a master didn't that mean she was actually totally worthless? So many things she didn't know how to deal with had bombarded her mercilessly, should she move him? Should she try and leave the island? Should she try and find a new master? How could she make these decisions when she had spent her whole life letting others think for her? Another, louder whine pulled from her throat and she rested her head on her paws. "Speak only when spoken too", Think only of the pack |
Art by Galianogangster |
Elias had skipped over the islands in his surveillance of the east that led up to the land claim for Ruina, but now that he had time to explore the east once more, he could no longer neglect them. He was surprised to find the scent of wolves out on this island, ones that seemed to be taking up residency. He never understood how they could sustain themselves on the small creatures that inhabited the islands, but he supposed the swim wasn't too bad to endure before a notable hunt.
He hadn't been planning on stopping to meet the natives of this island, considering himself as a sight-seeing tourist. He just wanted to collect information about who was here, how many, and then leave.. but the odd scent of decay intermixed with the sounds of faint whining caught his attention. He could not ignore it, and like a bear following the scent of honey- his paws absent-mindedly led him in the direction of the lure.
He was cautious as he approached the den, his eyes and ears moving around him like a paranoid crack addict. He relaxed once he came to the conclusion that they were alone and approached the monotone girl sitting at the entrance of the little den that smelled of death. He wanted to ask her if he was okay, but that fragrance was almost too much to let him think straight. The call of Apollyon hung hauntingly in the air like smoke and he was breathing it in, every breath making him more and more tired... distant.
He loomed over her, staring down at her in an odd sort of trance. Who was she, what was she doing here.. and why did she smell of decay? His eyes lingered over her scars, over her deep mulberry gaze, and then finally those hypnotizing lines dressing her feminine shoulders and nape.
Disclaimer: Elias suffers from schizophrenia and occasionally has violent outbursts.
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He pulled from the foliage like a shadow, like a demon on the prowl. But to her eyes he was an angle; her deliverance towering over her. She felt her chest flutter in a strange cocktail of fear and hope. He stood over her, watching her, unspeaking and she submitted to his gaze, avoiding his eyes and remaining unmoving as he observed her. She licked at her lips a few times, ears twitching back as she continued to avoid his gaze. Would he accept her? Pari prayed that he'd understand her submission. There was doubt in her mind though, all her previous masters had agreed to take her as part of trades and this male had no affiliation with her old master... The part of the woman that wanted to survive, wanted to protect herself was screaming in her head. She had to do something, had to say something. Which scared her more than the idea of being left alone. She had learned to only speak when spoken too and the man before her had yet to say anything at all, but she had too. Keeping her gaze firmly on the ground and keeping herself in her submissive position she spoke, her voice soft but cracked from lack of use. "Please," she begged, "tell me what to do." "Speak only when spoken too", Think only of the pack |
Art by Galianogangster |