The woman despises sand. There is something to be hated about the way it feels to walk across it, about the way it lingers between her toes, in her fur, everywhere, even long after she's left the desert. This is all she can think about as she picks her way across the sloping dunes, the corners of her darkened lips twisted downward in a grimace. It's dawn and the sun has only just begun to break across the horizon, spilling soft, white light over the rolling desert. It's empty here, she decides, emptier than any place she's been so far. What is she supposed to do with nothing? Where are the empires? The congregations? A bitter taste begins to form in her mouth as her pink eyes scan the reddish-orange expanse. There is only sand, for as far as the eye can see. Nothing she can take as her own. Disappointment comes like an unkindness to Leera, and her tail lashes. If she can't find anything to conquer, she'll just have to build something. She turns her nose to the sky, watching the morning stars wink out as day arrives. @Nephthys

light the night;

The sun rises as a canopy of gold, bright amid the blue, bidding the stars to take their nightly rest. As darkness surrenders, every colour changes from tinges of charcoal to a vibrancy of vibrancy. Middle of the dunes, sand upon sand, vibrant, transparent; toes ripping through the flesh of the desert terrain, paws leaving prints behind only to be covered in sand once again, as if she never has been, as if she never was and never will be more than a phantasm. Here for a moment just to be gone the next. Her curvaceous body moves, an inherent intuition. Her deliciously long and dark physique, russets and browns covering isabelline-white flesh; so ripples in the graceful sinuosity of powerful felines. Tangoing in a smooth rolling and feminine prowess of her hips -- painting a lascivious landscape of sensuality, pure sexuality of her tanned, liquid curves and their bountiful violence that withold her venomous blood; she uncoil herself through the hills and mountains of sand, in a dangerously reptillian, yet, chilling sensuality. A snake, a royal cobra in a macabre dance. Time flies for one that has seen nothing but sand for miles but it is not long before the fragrance of another hits her nostrils. Female, her perfume is thick upon the air; close, so close. Auditory system erects, dancing idly upon her crown, catching the most fine of noises and it was not long before hips swayed in the direction of the fragrance. Each calculating step bring her closer, plush tongue tasting the potent perfume through the air until a form emerged from the sand dunes. Slim, smaller than her but feminine, sensual; violet were her eyes, measuring planets in size with their own gravitational pull, seized the desert jewel before her. The femme discomfort, obvious, if her expression did not betrayed her than the action of the lashing tail certainly would have. "Not used with the desert, jewel?" brown lips curve demurely, feminine vocals rang in smooth foreign allure. Her voice, dark; dusky, a siren calling the sailors to their doom. Her hips continued their tango, one way and the other, swaying carelessly, statuesque figure came to a halt, 4 tails apart. Curiosity piqued.

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She spends the last minutes of dawn being bitter, her petite body rigid beneath the light of fading stars, chocolate ears flattened against her head. For a moment, she considers leaving Boreas entirely; if this land can't bear the fruit she's after than certainly some other will. It is only a matter of finding it, a kingless kingdom waiting to recieve her, a mass worthy of raising her high as their alphess. But before she uncurls herself and retreats back south, she scents a stranger in the mild air. At first, she's half-irritated. Her jaw sets and she narrows her small pink eyes, scouring the desert for the culprit. "Not used with the desert, jewel?" Leera merely watches her, the sharp angles of her face vacant as she lets her stare rove over the larger woman. "Quite the contrary, my love," she crones after a long pause, but there's hardly any warmth in her tone. "I've seen far too much of it." Her words are even. Calculated. The end of her tail flicks impatiently, but the longer she stares at the woman before her, the more her annoyance fades. She's beautiful, admittedly, a languid temptress with bronzed skin and sparkling eyes. "But you... you're something different." An excited darkness flickers in her eyes. "Yes, I can tell merely by the way you hold yourself. These badlands are yours, aren't they?" Have the gods really graced her with the presence of an empress? Perhaps the west isn't that horrible, after all.

light the night;

What a lustful power was emanating from a virile core, from the looks of it the femme was older than the luciferian woman yet she possessed a passionate longing and a devilish aptitude -- crafting an immaculate, female beauty, so she closed the distance between them just a little bit more. Calculating her moves, crossing her front limbs at the ankles in a graceful gesture. So close to her heat carnal initiatives were wrapped against a moistened tongue, and dipped in their boubon spice. The woman was deliciously female and deliciously rogue, she all but feels her unrelenting fixation, amethyst gaze meets magenta and so it was on. Her heart were as tormented as hers fore why else would someone decide to take a random walk upon such horrible terrain. "Something to work towards, hm." hot breath and hot lips. Maddening coldness was present in her melodious voice, so oozes betwixt their sculpted physiques. Their nearness were suffocating, inviting and it could be shown from her dilated pupils, if not the way her elongated, bushy tail gave the smallest of twitches at her words. "They will be soon enough, jewel. It is my birth right to rule over the desert, any that I can find." taunting vocals that rasp in a silken cajole; hushed as they fall in a perfected intimacy, softly raking themselves against her heated flesh. But the woman was not going to just sit here and let the other woman dictate their pace; saucy minx, she bagan a tango of her own, swaying her hips as she circled the woman, taking in ever muscle she had to offer. Underneath her. Above her. Around her. Her visage was cold, emotionless; painted in a vile yet tantalizing womanly defiance fore she was evil incarnate and shameless in her acts. "What brings such beauty so far out West?"  

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It's rather simple, Leera knows, to worm one's way into an empress' mind. There are always ways to manipulate spots on the totem pole, but the quickest is to be on good terms with the queen herself. And so, with this knowledge at the front of her mind, she lets the straight line of her lips curve upward into a smile. She smoothes the sharp lines from her face and sets her ears upright, allowing the roving glimpses that haven't gone unnoticed. But the desert isn't hers. Her smile fades and her eyes sharpen again, but there's something about the other woman that stops Leera from writing her off as useless. There is power there, in those jewelled eyes, in that sloping body. Leera watches her as she moves, half sizing her up, half admiring her, and with a flick of the tail she speaks. "Birth right," she repeats, unconvinced. Her lids close gently, and a smoky smirk appears on her expression. "An entitled creature, aren't you?" "I'm here for the same reason as you, I would assume. I'm scouting these lands." She allows the woman to circle her, deciding instead to indulge in the perfectly feminine odors that hang thick in the air. It's true that the other even smells like power -- that and something mildly sweet. Her tongue rakes slowly across her teeth. "My name is Leera Vindictus, my love, and I don't believe in birth rights. I was taught that only the most clever of wolves carry the throne on their backs, regardless of whose womb they came screaming out of." She eyes the other levelly, but there's a sparkle of something curious in her gaze. Something desirous. "But because I think you are more clever than some, I will entertain your birth right if you'll let me call you by your name." Which is...? Leera dips her chin slightly at the woman, expectant.

light the night;

Narrowed violet gaze, shall fix their keen oppression against her astonishing profile; assertive, devouring as the luciferian woman pace slowed, inhaling and registering the perfume of the other in the back of her mind before her teacup paws came to a stop in front of her -- information assessed in her brain, yet there was a burning glance of forbidden attraction. "The hunger for power will leave you starving." placid was her voice, bewitching as her soft laugher emerges, the expressions of the other realization of her position inflicting it, devilishly intoned by a divine hiss of angellic sensuality. Slowly, she breathes unto her the forbidden confessions. "I can be your main course, making sure you do not starve" heavenly apathy laced with sensual words, the sezuality emerging from her pores, her testosterones were calling to the other; she savours her fragrance in a fervent hymm of carnal pretence just as obsidian eyebrows, elegantly crafted upon her beautiful visage, rose in question at her comment; busy, elongated tail coyly risen in a manner so subtle, so catty, eloquent; "Bitchy yet infinitely alluring." she murmured above a whisper, if the other heard her, so be it. Audits, elegantly perking on top of her crown, taking in her name, "Leera." tasting it on her tongue, just like a fne wine, getting better with age. "I come from a long line of Gods and though my blood might be as red as yours genetics play a important role in the survival of the fittest. You talk about wit and brains but if you do not have what it takes your brain will rot along with your body" dark and calculated sonnates escaped her jaws, exotic in their foreign allure as they dances across the air towards the other woman. She was something else entirely, but was power hungry all she was. "Nephthys Ma'at Ithuriel. Charmed, I am sure." her thighs rose, sashaying their carnal allure a few steos away; sweeping forth to slowly relinquish her voluptous frame, away from thine magenta gaze. "I will prove I am genetically better." Mischeviously, she casts a cold, fervid glance above the slender curve of her lithe, cloying shoulderblade. "Come along now, jewel." her breath made exquisite, eyelashes unfurling ever decadently in their beautiful maddness, acting like a ebon gaze to protect the goddess.

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Bitchy. An ear flicks at the word, smile growing. If speaking the truth makes her a bitch, then she's certainly a big one. She listens to the lull of syllables as the goddess tries the name, Leer-ah, and decides she likes her name right there, right in between the teeth of this woman. She can hold it there forever if she pleases. In turn, Leera is given a name as well. A pause stretches in between the two wolves, silent but teeming with everything from sexual tension to pure envy -- or is it hatred? -- before she handpicks the words she chooses to spin for the woman. "Nephthys, I do not believe in gods," she calls gently, almost like a mother to her writhing child. Her dark chin lifts and her eyes watch the oaken female with stead. Leera stands easily, her small body moving with the grace of owls. On her paws, she notes the size difference even more -- if it comes to tooth and claw, Nephthys has the upper hand. She sets her ears against her crown and steps after the girl. "You say there's godsblood in your veins... I say that's the strength of a woman. It'll do you good to learn the difference." Her tiny paws all but disappeared into the plush of golden sand as she walks alongside her new companion. "Tell me something. What do your gods teach you about ruling an empire?" She is curious to see if the girl has any brains at all when it comes to queenship.

light the night;

The luciferian woman weight were amassed above her lean, long limbs. Braided tail whipping amongst toned hindquarters; annoyance, so potent, so firm, it was the bridge between them, burning alive. She was entitled to her opinion ergo the Egyptian Goddess choose silence as her weapon. Her physique reforming above bronzed legs as her crown, were faintly dipped, listening; audits carefully registering her vocals. Words forming meaning. Her braided tail was aligned by the long, gracefully smooth arc of a spinal curve; shadowed by blades of rolling shoulder tendons -- which boiled, and frothed, in domes of bulging muscle as she made her way further, traveling along side her companion towards the south. "One may belive so however, we have been trapped in these mortal bodies as a curse." her jaws salivated, arcing, allowing dulcet exotic syllables to leave their heavenly grace; her pretty maw was bowed selfishly and fearlessly, above her breastbone, a smirk finding its way to paint her ebon coluptous lips. "They guide us towards out destiny. Some were born to rule. Some where born to serve. They will give My rightfull place or I will come take it from their cold grasp." and her fangs were all too eager -- rejoicing in the anticipation of the flesh, of the carmine liquid she so clearly imagined. "There are moments when, what ever the position of the body, the soul is on its knees. That will never happen to me." the dulcet syllables continues, marked by a heavy dark undertone. Foreign, alluring yet grotesque. She came to a abrupt halt, all of a sudden, crown turning towards the other woman, Leera; her arctic gaze seizes her, furiously, then. Their gold violet, with their og gravitational pull devouring her body with the shameless indulgence of a lethal lover; high on cocaine and arrogance. "What do you know about ruling an empire, Leera?" slim brow would arch gracefully, raising a question in her aristocratic flair.  Her name, the taste of it, it was like fine whiskey, burning down her throat, forcing it ablaze at a mere mention. She decided right then that she liked it, she hated it, she wanted more of it on her lips.

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The sun continues is ascent, and as a result the desert begins to heat up. She can taste the dryness in the air, taste the thirst in it. For a moment, she wonders if these badlands would ever be a suitable empire at all with the lack of water, plants, and prey, but of course these things are not necessities but rather luxuries. Her people could starve, that's fair, but alas she'd be queen; little else mattered. The ruler of a dying state is still a ruler. "Some were born to rule. Some were born to serve." Leera dips her chin slightly. That much is true, she knows, but the deciding factor does not come down to godsblood. There is no such things as godsblood. The femme drags her tongue across her maw again, thinking, narrowed pink eyes fixed somewhere in the distant dunes before them as they walk. "What do you know about ruling an empire, Leera?" The question excites her; a corner of her soul squeezes with lust. "I know that it cannot be done with a soft hand," she muses coldly, but the flick of her tail says she's having fun with this. "Would you agree with me, Nephthys?" Continuing south on silent paws, her mind buzzes. It's almost as if all of their talk about power has intoxicated her so much that she's seeing white. "I also know that it doesn't take much to separate the strong-minded from the weak. In fact, sometimes actions as seemingly little as the way one chooses to hunt can tell me if they're worthy of a throne." Her ears tick back and she glances toward Nephthys, lips curling up into a challenging grin. "Passing through, I saw some elk in one of the southern forests: you'll kill one with me. I'm dying to see how that godsblood holds up against a mortal when it comes down to tooth and claw." -exit to challenge-

light the night;

The world stopped for a moment in their vampiric grace -- sultry curves that ached in languid repose reached further towards the beaut in front of her. The Goddess body weaves against the other female, smothering affection, a slight push that confirmed not only her agreement to the amazonian woman words but confirming her intetions towards her as well. Her lips, were bathed in saccharine ardour; contentment sewn in every ambiable and curvaceous contour. Eyes of burning amethyst took in the challenge; widening for just one moment, one moment to show the surprise to her words and yet such sentences made her skin so hot, and warm; a challenge between god and mortal. This she shall see through. Heat licked at the goddess sunburned visage and coiled around her limbs like a great hot-blooded serpent. The ground smoldered and sent up a disorientating haze. Even the birds were silent and the grass stood still, from her words, as if too hot to move. "I have no doubt you will rule an Empire with an iron paw." luxurious were her words, melodious in her wake; a grin pulling at the corner of her pretty maw, "Leera Vindictus, I hereby accept your challenge. You are right, sometimes instincts and the subconscious mind can tell us a lot about another." continous sonnates escaped her predatorial jaws. Mile long limbs, stretched, bent, gracefully across the cruel desert; the vampiric succubus continues her trip along the desert in her newest toy company. "We should head towards north, in such case, the heat will get us in the south during the day." A dip of her head pointed towards the direction and she knew the other will follow. It was not in her character to go down on a challenge like that.

exitus nephthys

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