ardent

children of war



Isardis

Loner

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09-30-2013, 06:41 PM (This post was last modified: 09-30-2013, 06:42 PM by Isardis.)




isardis

He could smell the girl from a mile away, sauntering with evident purpose to find her location, knowing she would be reachable by the prisoner position she had so willingly granted herself. How much more perfect could it be? That the youth had come into her first season of sexual maturity so soon after her Glaciem Arrival. Even if Valhalla would fight for her return, squirming within the walls of her womb would be the life of his spawn; the very children that would signal an eternity of war. Her scent would grow more potent as he would seek her, twisting effortlessly between the pines as he would call for her, muse bubbling from his lips in crazed snickers, ?Where is my pretty little prisoner, hm? Do not hide from what your body so craves.?






Azalea

Loner

age
6 Years
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Female
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09-30-2013, 07:19 PM




Winter was falling just as the night would come. A blood red sun hung low in the western sky, pointing home. Her body shook with the terror that had clutched her heart like a panther's claws at the first rush of blood.

Her first season was upon her.

Never in her two short years had Azalea hoped so badly for rescue. At the same time, just the image in her mind was enough to make her shy away. She had chosen this path. She had dug this grave. It was time for her to lie in her grave, she couldn't sit wishing that her loved ones would put their lives on a limb for her.

There was a brief moment before the devil's voice played in her ears where she wondered how her mother was, what she was thinking. ?where is my pretty little prisoner, hm? do not hide from what your body so craves.? His vocal struck her, playing cruel tricks on her mind. In the alcove that was her cell, she backed up until her rump hit the stone wall behind her. Ears flipped back and her amber eyes narrowed as they looked for the phantom's approach.




Isardis

Loner

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10-01-2013, 08:41 PM




isardis

Amidst the trees she would loiter within the hidden walls of several boulders, the thumping of her quarters against stone would be enough for the sharp King to guide himself towards her; muscles ticking with the thrill of her heat, nostrils eagerly devouring her scent as ruby gaze would feed from the pretty vixen?s seeping hatred. ?Ah, there she is,? he chuckled weakly, waltzing closer to her confines, stopping barely two meters from her alluring form, ?Don?t fight it darling, you will discover to enjoy it?s hold upon you, my hold upon you. And if you do not, you will soon learn to, aggression only excites me more so.? Quietly he would hope for some kind of retaliation as he took another step closer, salmon tongue lashing at pale lips as he would come to pause barely few feet from her touch, testing.






Azalea

Loner

age
6 Years
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Female
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85
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10-02-2013, 10:18 AM




?Ah, there she is,? His tones came just in time for him to come into view. Her eyes met him with sharp dislike. Flicking over the whole of him to take in his eagerness as he would invade upon her make shift "territory". Was it not hers? Had they not given this space to her? She would be a fool to think she could protect this ground, though, and Isardis only solidified that fact as he tramped right up to her.

There was no hesitation. He was a lord overlooking the spoils of a war yet fought. She was his to do what he pleased with.

Her nostrils flared, taking in the scent of him. In her unfortunate state his scent was sickly sweet, like honey. And, well, if he was the honey then she was the bear. His scent gave her a high, longing for him in a way that made her sick. How could her body so quickly become an enemy to her mind? She wanted nothing of this male and yet her limbs ached to approach him, to give herself so easily over to him.

?Don?t fight it darling, you will discover to enjoy it?s hold upon you, my hold upon you. and if you do not, you will soon learn to, aggression only excites me more so.? She smirked coldly as the male stopped, already too close for comfort. "Don't flatter yourself." Her tones were chipped ice, moving herself out of the corner. Bile rose in her throat as she came ever nearer to the king, her tail firmly pressed between her legs.

"I yearn for you the way a fish yearns for molten lava," Her eyes met his before she sidestepped him. Her back haunches, keeping her tail as tight between her legs as possible, not to be submissive but to keep him from merging with her body. She pivoted once she more as she gave herself open ground. No longer cornered she only had to keep that tail firmly tucked.




Speech,



Isardis

Loner

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10-06-2013, 06:24 PM




isardis

She was a spitfire, a girl with the flames of defiance burning at the base of her soul, igniting the amber irises of her spiteful gaze. Oh how her displeasure fed him, fuelled his want, his need to overpower her. A sickened chuckle would respond to her own, the due engaging in the twirling footwork of a sinister dance as his chest would pivot to follow her sauntering form. ?It would so displease me to be forceful little ember, can you not imagine the fun we could have? The shuddering of your quarters as I satisfy the cravings of your luxurious femininity?? toxin would begin to spread his veins, the woman?s time for play rapidly running dry.

Instinct would send him forward in a burst of power, an attempted hind-driven launch towards her smaller frame, jaws agape as the pale monster would attempt to clasp at the bunched skin of her scruff; to hold it within his power as his loins would throb with the thrill of the chase. For once, this mating might actually be about pleasure and not purely about the children that would come of it. He would draw this tango out for as long as time itself would allow him.







Azalea

Loner

age
6 Years
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Female
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Medium
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10-06-2013, 07:13 PM (This post was last modified: 10-06-2013, 07:15 PM by Azalea.)




?It would so displease me to be forceful little ember, can you not imagine the fun we could have? the shuddering of your quarters as i satisfy the cravings of your luxurious femininity?? His words were enough to throw her mind into rewind, to remind her of Sarak's touch. Oh, how her body had given for him. That had been pleasurable but now that her body wanted in a way she had never before experienced, who was she to say that she would not enjoy this more?

Just the thought, however, repulsed her. How could she ever enjoy a moment with the pale king? She drove herself from her thoughts when it was already too late. The sickly white male dove toward her, her teeth locking indelicately at her scruff. The burn of pain and the jump of her pulse made her jaws fall open and a strangled groan escaped them. It was the only show that she might yet enjoy what would soon follow. Her tail loosened in its protection of her assets, completely taken off guard by the charge.

A growl bubbled up and she twisted her head trying to shake his grasp. Her attempts were in vain and perhaps not as heart felt as they could be. Already her body was breaking, shivering under his touch and yearning for him to claim her as his own. She did like a man in charge, after all, and Isardis was certainly a man who took charge. Realistically he had all the right keys to turn her body on to him and make her give herself up. If only the sight of him didn't repulse her so. "Valhalla will never forgive you," Were the only words she spoke. Internally though she wondered if they would blame her and if they would ever forgive her. It was inevitable now, though her mind was still in sharp denial, that she would not go home alone. What would her family do about the demons inside her?




Isardis

Loner

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10-09-2013, 06:31 PM




isardis


His grasp would be attained and a nauseating hiss of pleasure would fizz from cherry lips, jaws tightening about the bristled flesh of her duotone scruff. It seemed the impact had worked in his favor, her body growing weak at his touch as hormones seemed to plead with her mind; to crave the seed of The King almost as much as he craved her. He managed to splutter free a disturbed chuckle, ?Look at yourself, little temptress; you?re a mess.? He would attempt to bring their bodies parallel, a growl pulling at his lips as right forearm would aim to swing over her shoulders, to slowly lift himself onto her as he fought her shaking, ?You desire this so gravely. Will Valhalla ever forgive you?? The albino would strive to correct his pose, hips squirming as he so hungrily searched for position behind her pelvis, swaying side to side as instinct would guide him towards his rewards; searching for the location she so helplessly couldn?t protect.





Azalea

Loner

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6 Years
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Female
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10-13-2013, 07:38 PM




?Look at yourself, little temptress; you?re a mess.? She could taste his pleasure like poison on her tongue. She growled a sound that bubbled up from the pit of her stomach. "Never said I wasn't." Azalea really was a mess. Her emotions always had a way of getting away from her.

He swung his body now, a paw trying to slip over her shoulders to grab her other side. Their growls mingled into a single sound as she jerked her head far forward, bucking like a bronco. Her head snapped back then, hoping to knock him in the face fairly hard. His grip was attained regardless of her struggle, he was just too large and his hold on her neck secure.

Her breath left her in a huff as she realized that he had maneuvered into position. ?You desire this so gravely. will Valhalla ever forgive you?? As if he had read her mind. His words stung her in a way that they shouldn't but he knew how to beat her down, that much she had already discovered. Her best defense against the ice king would be to deafen herself.

"They don't have to forgive me, they just have to slay you." Yes, that would make her truly happy.

Her mind had shut down, seeming to be oblivious now. Perhaps in later times she would not even remember this happening. Perhaps there would be nothing but a black void where a memory should be, so horrible that her mind chose to erase it for her.




Speech,



Isardis

Loner

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11-05-2013, 10:45 PM




isardis

She would buck beneath him like a crazed equine, her hips reaching up to bash at his undersides; he would do no more than manage a muffled chuckle between the bristling of her scruff. She didn?t stand a chance, not against his determination and weight. She was a spitfire, he would give her that. Honestly, he found her a total waste of spirit. Working on his side, the girl could have been powerful, but in Valhalla? She was worthless, wasted, nothing. Too bad. He wiggled into position, deafened to her words, and with an impolite thrusting of his pelvis he would initiate the creation of life, children to be bound to the swords of their parents rivalry. Forever.

-- fade to black