The king left his pack lands in search of food he could bring to the woman that had bore his most recent litter. Truth be told she was already beginning to wear on him and now that his pups had been born he considered her to be of little consequence. Once his children were weaned and could fend for themselves he considered asking the dowager woman to leave Erovrare, so he could raise his children with no doubt of the strength of their parental lineage. He ducked his head into the murky water and raised it with a flailing fish grasped tightly in his jaws then carried his still thrashing catch to a bank of tall grass. He hoped it would be the first of many but with the chill of winter touching even the southern lands food was never certain. He held the sizeable fish until  it ceased moving then dropped it and returned to the bog to try his luck on a second catch. His ears moved with the sounds of chirping insects and croaking frogs. He considered bringing one of the vile creatures to Leera to show his distaste of her, but ultimately decided against it. More and more his thoughts turned to Korinna, the grey woman who had stayed with him through the fall of Ruina. She was no thing of beauty but she was large and strong, and no doubt the children they made would be monsters compared to the litter Leera had given him. His mind wandered and his guard began to drop, he focused less and less on the world around him and more on the dark pool underneath him, hoping for a flash of silver scales against the dark surface. Speech, Thought, You

Long had the spider-with held her inner pain to be the fault of others, caused by others. She was the Oracle, the Voodoo Queen, her choices where not her own but the spirits! Never once had she looked into the mirror of her own soul and asked what different choices she could make, not for her own sake, she was already the fallen one, fell to deep into the abyss to be rescued, but for the sake of others, for the sake of the blood that she shared with others. Blood! Oh how hungry she was. She was starving. Her last meal was that damned, rotten excuse of a coyote and the blood of the man she met along the way. But that wasn't enough. Never enough! Her thoughts came back to her, in each moment she made only choices for herself with little regards of others, the ghouls protected her, they made her do it, they made her kill ,betray. She was the star of her own show after all. She never surrendered to whatever fear came her way - as cowards do. Her features turned into disgust at the mere thought of the word. Yet she admitted to manipulate them. She would kiss the boot of ant King only to slash his throat with her claws later. She played the long game. She would not fall to the mistakes of petty amateurs that would salivate and jump at the mere sight of fortune and food. No. She will starve, wait, scheme and plan. Everything had to be perfect and it will be hers for the taking. Were she in war she'd be a traitor, crying, "What else could I have done?" when she was confronted with her darkness. Should her choice be a splinter in her own finger for all eternity or to burn the world, he would see it as no choice at all... ....Obviously. she muttered to herself, quietly. She would burn the world. See the flames and then descend into them herself. Burning herself with it. That was her only motivation, her only meaning. She wanted to raise hell, to raise chaos to end it all. To end creation. That is why Father always said the worst of traits is cowardice, for, over a lifetime, one born will all potential to be good and kind will be nothing but a source of rot in humanity. In her mind she was good. She will end the cruelty, the rotten world with rotten beings for the hell was empty and all devil were here. She was doing good, she was doing them all a service! she was sending them back where they belonged, in the land of the dead, after all she had friends on the other side. It was no accident that it was the reptile, the snake, that symbolizes evil in all of their myths. For these creatures did not require love to raise their young like mammals do, like wolves seemed to do. As such, the reptiles did not evolve an ability to feel love, only to survive. Likewise the spider-witch does not feel love, she was an evolutionary throw-back to our reptilian brains, an accident of genetics. But damned be all if she did not consider that to her advantage. She was deep in thoughts when cerulean gaze fell upon a figure in the darkness of her new home. Stranger. Male. Demon Yes, a male. A stranger. But a demon? The woman never encoutered such a creature from the warmest parts of hell. The breeze carried his scent to her and she knew she was closer than she thought even though the male did not seem to notice her. Alas, it was hard to distinguish the woman, darkness wrapped around her pigmentation and she was one with the shadows. Closer. Yes. How closer could she be without getting noticed she wondered. She always was a being of action and so she sinisterly cawled closer, her skeleton frame low upon the earth to resemble the reptiles she mimicked. It was the scent that she did not bother to conceal and yet the woman was not against the breeze, her scent would not be carried away that easily. Was he fishing? She wondered herself , within the depths of her own damaged mind, as she peered closer. Seven tails away. Wait. Five tails away. Wait. Three tails away. Wait. Attack. Not yet. she responded low in her throat, the hissing was loud enough to be audible for those that were paying attention. She came closer to the stash of fish and disgust once again painted her features. Vile creatures equaled vile food. Who would eat such monstrosities? Hunger. Her stomach rumbles easily the moment her massive paws touched the water, letting her presence be known as disturbances occured in circles and spirals within the pool. The water might lead to a feast, she straightened her frame, but you, demon of many evils, chose the least. Speech

He whirled and faced the woman, broken from his reverie by the sudden intrusion.“Who are you?” He demanded with the rumble of a growl in his voice. Almost as soon as he asked the scent of reptile wafted toward him, underlined with the stink he had come to associate with the Kleins. “One of Hannibal’s I’m guessing.” He stated bitterly. How many siblings did that bastard have? His mind pulled back for an instant, recalling how the woman had greeted him. Demon. How did she know? Could she sense the fallen creature of lightning dwelling within him. He straightened, his pointed gaze bearing down on her.  “I won’t ask again.” He snarled, his lips lifting to show his white fangs contrasted against his dark fur. Speech Thought

Oh! He spoke. And oh! his words vibrated through her whole being for she was in the presence of a demon. Of a supernatural creature from the very flames she dreamed of. In that empty scream was the pain of the indifferent, of a monster who sold its soul for ease and instead found hell and she could see some traces of that in him. You can wrap yoursself in beautiful sskin or the rancid hide of the decaying creatures of the abyss, yet I see you regardless of disguise, demon. her sultry tonality of the spider-witch reached extremely high levels, she could barely hold her excitement as a creepy, scary cheshire grin spead across her beautiful, ghoulish face; from ear to ear, she was all fangs and gums and small droplets of saliva. (much like her cheeb) The moment he mentioned her blood her mind went into overdrive and orgasmic excitement washed over her in waves, sending shivers down her skeletic spine. This was him. She knew she will meet him but she did not expect it so soon.   Early. I have been expecting you. You are early. she practically purred as she slithered in. Closer. We can smell it I can smell it too. The spider-witch closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, shamelessly on the man scent and drewing even closer in order to bath in it, to cover herself in the grand cologne of the demon. Speech

He froze as she spoke, feeling the words pass through him and into the demon that dwelled in his soul. Something he couldn’t place told him that he had been waiting for her as well and a primal snarl ripped through him as she came closer, her face nearly split in two by her wide grin. “Demon mother” His thoughts whispered and in a moment of blissful enlightenment he knew that the Apollyon had sent this woman to him, blind as he was to the voices of his ancestors, they had guided her the way they had guided his father on the night he took his mother. She buried herself in him, his arms locking possessively around her neck as he leaned down to kiss her. This was fate. She would bare the cubs who would be most worthy of him; a chosen son who would exceed the expectations of his kin, one who was worthy and god touched by the Apollyon himself. Her womb would incubate a king of kings, she needed only to comply and give her body to him. "Join me. Join my ranks." He rumbled huskily, saliva dripping from his jaw as he thought of the meal he was about to devour. Speech Thought

Her tail was lashing excessively back and forth as the man wraped himself around her but not out of aggression; it was excitement in its raw form. Oh! Even the demon chose her, even the hell wanted her fore it seemed that hell was empty and all the demons were here. She will make it her mission to send all of them back. Send everyone back. Glorious day, she took it upon herself to consider this nothing else but encouragement fore the spider-witch always knew she will find greateness within the lands that Hannibal chose to reside. Name holds power over demon. Your name, demon, what shall I call when summon thy? A kiss. It lingered and surprised the spider-witch at the same time yet it took only a moment to recompose and her grin, if possible, grew even wider, ready to burst into pieces. Mate Yess. she hissed, her reptilian speech impediment every present yet her voice was suave, enchanting to the ear, hypnotizing like a cobra ready to strike. Speech

speech Thought

“I am Tyranis Praetor.” He spoke, his voice like an ominous roll of thunder. “Descendant of the Apollyon, the first wolf. I am the host to a demon of lightning, and the highlord of Erövrare.” His titles came to him as naturally as any instinct. Heat that could rival the molten core of a volcano rushed through his veins and in an instant was replaced by the sheer weightless chill of elation.

“What do I call you?” He asked throatily if for no other reason than to cry her name out at the height of their passion. He wanted her like he had never wanted any woman; not Aranea, not Leera, or even faithful Korinna. Her scent of death and cold, unspeakable, stillness drove him to the edge of consciousness. For an instant he was simply the demon, and she was the womb that would bare the heirs who would rule in Hell.

Her brain was an extinguished fire. Once it burnt bright and she knew of happiness and light in her puphood; she could see a future... Now the black widows mind iwas dark, subsisting on the burnt tinder of who she was. But perhaps it was better this way, this way she could actually see the world for what it was, all the evil in it, all the cruelty and all the rotten beings that populated the Earth, destroying their planet. In these ashes of her mind there was nothing to even renew a spark. All she could do was huddle in the moment, live from heartbeat to heartbeat. All she could do was fall further away into the abyss and be engulfed by the shadows, by the darkness that became her closest ally, her closest friend. It was that darkness that she could always count on. She felt like the world wasn't really there at all, like it was stolen and replaced with something empty, fake however seeing the Demon Lord in flesh and bones offered her consolation; perhaps it was not all doomed. This isss it Tyranis. The demon name bindss him. Tyraniss. she repeated the name, as if to test the theory of controling him, of the name holding such power. Her hisses were of a snake and her venom was sweetest than honey. Cordelia. she offered in a slow panting, her tail lashing back and forh behind her as she bathed in his scent. Speech

speech Thought


“Cordelia.” He growled the name like a roll of thunder. “I claim you for Erövrare. Your home is the Shrine now, you may bed wherever you wish within my lands.” The welcome was oddly formal for him, even Hannibal had not been welcomed with as much pomp and circumstance as he was offering the girl now.

“Come with me and we will further discuss your place in the pack.” He wanted her and could feel lust consuming him with every word, but he wouldn’t dishonor her by rutting in the mud like a pig. The forest was dry and dark, but most importantly the forest was his and he wanted to ensure she would have a strong healthy litter before he put one in her. He would restrain himself until she had shed the wild life of a loner from her body but once she was fit he would father his second litter with her.

Reluctantly he released his grasp on her, his knees still shaking with anticipation and turned away to lead her to her new home.

-Exit Tyranis-

Fire consumed the the witch as the Demon King rolled her name from his tongue. Lust, adding gasoline to the ignating fire underneath her own skin. He claimed her for his own pack and the spider-witch could not help the cheshire grin spreading across her ghoulish features. Yess. He is ours now. Compell the demon. Oh, how she wanted him. And it would seem that he wanted her just as much or even more. The Shrine he said, how fitting for an Oracle with friends on the other side. The spirits were pleased and so was she managed to snatch a spot inside her beloved brother pack. She was to be one of them now. I accept your claim, Demon. her sultry hisses reached the air between them and with that, he departed. The places where he touched still burnt her and she almost purred deep within her chest. She followed him towards her new home and looked forward of their next encounter. exitus Speech