Now just a little closer, that?s it, just this way? He coaxed in his mind, crazed and maddened with the need for violence curdling his blood. Nibelheim's molten eyes fixated on his target, so oblivious to the deviant barely being contained by sinew and flesh, the peril it was about to face and the death that it would soon experience. One of many life lessons that Nibelheim taught for free: you?re never truly safe in numbers. The air was moist and heavy, foliage laden with frozen raindrops and streaks of dawn etched into a dreary sky heralding the morning monster out of his now muddy hollow for two things, food and expending the energy that he could not otherwise use. He didn't dare expose his companion to his sadism, at least not while she was so fragile. But that was neither here nor there thankfully. The russet-furred monster lurked in the browning greenery with eyes only for the little speckled fawn whose head popped down and out of sight, an indication to close the proximity that stretched between them. The mother was not too far, head dipped into the aging grass while periodically checking on her adventurous babe. Even from this distance Nibelheim could smell the sickly sweet-sour odor of her milk that was likely the main sustenance for the little fawn. It looked so dreadfully tender, youthful and only just proficient where running was concerned ? targets like that sent a fever through him and made him pant just watching its little hips sway. Come on baby, I?m asking for just an inch. The voices in his head cackled loudly, shrieking with their need for tribute that would finally be answered. His heart danced a dizzying waltz, his blood deafened him and he felt as if he were nestled comfortably between living and dying as his shortened breath came in quick gasps. The fawns head fell again and Nibelheim couldn?t, wouldn't, hold it anymore. His muscles bayed for movement, his paws burned for flesh and his mind hinged on a gossamer strand of sanity that demanded blood on the floor. The wolf came out of hiding like a hurricane, tossing vegetation and blindsiding the babe who bleated in protest and kicked its way to its feet. Nibelheim caught a hoof to the chin, he felt it, it hurt but it didn't effect the viciousness of his assault. The doe had already bounded out of reach but her little one wasn?t so lucky as it's killer pivoted to put himself in front of it and snatch it wet snout in his maw, locking his lips around it in some obscene kiss. Mild-breathe filled his mouth and he felt twitchy as it struggled for life, fought for air. He?d have none of that now. The cruel hunter released his young lover whose kiss had restored some shaky plateau of balance within him and quickly snapped his teeth along its throat, its agonized cries reverberating through him as he dug for every inch that his fangs crept deeper into its pliable skin. Blood, that succulent nectar, drizzled in his mouth was scalding him, heavy like honey on his tongue. Nibelheim couldn?t resist allowing his eyes to travel the length of the fallen fawn to the doe lingering beyond the trees, bleating helplessly for her captive offspring and stomping her hooves in aggitation. A demented giggle sounded from his lips as he briefly parted them to hiss at her. "She's mine now." Speech,

Felicita crept slowly and silently through the meadow, her slim legs and delicate paws picking out a hazard-free path that reduced any chance whatsoever of her tripping over herself or some strange object lying in her way. The moonlight was fading, the sun slowly dragging itself up and over the horizon to start a chilly new winter day. The gorgeous young fae's breath steamed out in clouds around her nostrils, winding and twisting and curling until the condensed droplets separated and dissipated towards the heavens. The innocent young femme paused, stopping to stare with captivated emerald green irises at the coming of a new day. The navy blue sky was now shot through with streaks of pink and yellow, creating a tantalizing myriad of hues. Felicita could look and look for hours on end and still not have every detail committed to her memory. Content with the amount of information she had been able to absorb from the sunrise, Felicita continued on her way. She padded along, not making a sound, silent as a ghost on the wing. A gentle breeze ruffled her downy fur, carrying with it the scent of a brute not far up ahead. The breeze carried with it also the scent of deer. Inhaling deeper and paying closer attention to the scent, Fell deciphered the separate smells of two different deer, one a doe and one a fawn. Luckily, Felicita possessed a rare skill known as common sense; the male wolf ahead of her was without a doubt hunting, and Fell would be damned before she ruined a meal for someone. Felicita sunk low to the ground, concealing her tiny, delicate frame completely within the tall grasses. Her pale belly fur brushed against the hard packed dirt, her bushy tail held straight out, parallel to the ground. The young woman continued creeping forward, even more aware that she must not make a sound. Emerald green eyes sought to find the hunting wolf, and find him they did. The male was large, obviously much larger than her minuscule self, but then again, most wolves were. His pelt was a rich, dark shade of brown, with slight hints of russet coursing through the fur that cloaked the man like a skintight suit. Ahead of him, Felicita spotted the two deer. She waited, and watched. Her patience was well rewarded by the show she stayed to witness. The man launched himself out of the hiding place, attacking the fawn with a ferocity the likes of which Felicita had never seen before in her life. Even on hunting trips she had attended while living with her family, none of the wolves in her pack were so delighted with the killing. The scent of the male was one of pure ecstasy; he loved what he was doing, and he relished it. Felicita waited until the brute had torn the last shreds of life from the fawn until she made herself known. Suddenly overcome with a burst of initiative, Felicity pelted helter-skelter from where she crouched concealed in the grass. The doe had stupidly remained to witness her child's demise, and that would be her downfall as well. Felicity didn't enjoy killing, no. But she knew what she had to do to survive. The small wolf streaked towards the doe, leaping clear over the brute that stood hunched over, his jaws parted to release a snarky comment towards the doe. Felicita's sharp emerald eyes locked onto the doe's mournful brown ones. The doe knew that her time had come. She whipped away from Felicita, attempting halfheartedly to escape, but Fell caught her in a few lengthy bounds. The femme may have been small, but she could make up for it in ferocity and power when she tried. Bunching her back thigh muscles, Felicita waited until she had drawn abreast with the doe and launched herself upwards, gleaming white canines latching onto the jugular vein of the doe. The doe bucked and bleated, but Felicita held on for dear life, jaws clamped tightly shut. With one tremendous heave, Fell dragged the doe down to the ground, her tawny body smashing against the dirt as Felicita continued to rip the life out of her, shred by shred. Planting one paw firmly on the does muscular neck, Felicita released her jaws quickly, only to find better purchase. She sunk her teeth once more into the flesh of the does throat, and with a sharp jerk of her neck, ripped it straight from the doe's body. The mother deer twitched and kicked a few more times before her chocolate orbs grew dim and the light of life abandoned them. Felicita released her jaws and dropped the doe's throat from her maw, hot blood coating the entire front of her body, from her muzzle all the way down to her paws. Panting heavily, Felicita turned back to the russet male. "Sorry to interrupt," she laughed breathlessly. "I just couldn't let her get away. You're more than welcome to partake in my meal with me, if that fawn wouldn't be enough to fill you. My name is Felicita. What's yours?" --------------------------------- Speech

The fawn?s heartbeat had been a staccato-like thrum, clinging desperately to invisible strands of hope. It had flooded his mouth, fluttering against his tongue like some caged thing searching for a freedom denied. Now it slowed, a lethargic, arduous march meeting its final jolts of life. It was such a lulling tempo that pulsed through his veins that Nibelheim?s violent energy gradually began to dissipate. Although this did not persuade him from holding the does stare with mute antagonism, daring her to do something other than flee. Nibelheim chuckled at the mother?s obvious distress from where he hovered over her fawn. With her only reason to remain in the area currently in the vice-like grip of the marauding wolf, the doe truly had no reason to linger. But she had waited too long, endured the gory scene only for another assailant to descend into the scene, starting both prey and predator alike. Having been so enthusiastically riveted by his inopportune stare down, the russet defender had been utterly unaware of his surroundings up until that point. The instinct to scent the area or move his item to a secure location had been exchanged for the preferred sadistic torture that devouring his kill in the clearing would have provided and it was his violent behavior that now tore a sharp sound of alarm from the brute. The wolf rolled as the shadow of the slighter animal passed overhead, a snarl broaching his lips as he was forced to release the fawn in order to evade the presumed attack. He shot up from his crouch, hissing and growling to ward off the perceived threat only to discover that the fleet-footed spy had bypassed him entirely. No, her target had not been him but the wide-eyed doe now falling to the experienced huntress. Being that Nibelheim was an opportunist by nature, watching the struggle between the two animals was considerable entertainment. Especially because he felt inclined to believe the smaller canine was making an effort to outdo him ? or something in that respect. Moments ticked passed and the female prevailed over her target, unscathed if not slightly winded from her opponents thrashing. A wry smile curved the brutes lips still slick with blood of the fallen as she addressed him with an apology and then an offer to share in the spoils of her labors. It was a bewildering proposal had he ever heard one. Loners were typically more covetous of their meals as they were harder to come by. There was also the factor that he outweighed her by a good margin, taller and physically more robust than she, he could simply take her prize had he the motivation to do so. ?No harm done.? He snorted brusquely as his thoughts began to churn. Was this a peace offering to ensure that she was nourished, a plot to lure him close, or none of the above? His paranoia didn?t seem to agree that she was acting out of the goodness of her heart but Nibelheim could attest to having been wrong before. ?Feliis-ita?? Accent heavy syllables mangled the females name and the brute frowned, knowing it was not correct. ?Verzeihung, I am not used to your tongue. But if you are okay, I call you Feli?" He forward a step, tempted by her larger kill. He still had Cashmere to worry about and if possible he'd like to see her have more than scraps while simultaneously not depriving himself of nutrients. "I am Nibelheim. You do not object sharing?" Speech,