Magdalene was having a blast adventuring from home. Other adults kept looking at her funny. Some even went as far as to warn her to go home because it was safer. Safer than what? The red sky? The starless night? The icky looking animals that liked to chase her? Didn't seem so bad when your mom enjoyed yelling at you for dumb stuff! Like leaving the pack lands! Ugh, how annoying it was that her mother attempted to keep her bound by invisible chains. Fortunately for Magdalene, those chains were easily broken.

Freedom was a scent so glorious that she inhaled deeply with every breath she took. Tinging that sweet freedom was stark scent of sea salt and aromatic herbs. Drawing her away from the destroyed rivulets separating the beach from the bony hills, she crept closer and closer to the lush growing field that made her want to lay down and nap. What a wonderful place! Her paws rush forward, sufficiently trampling the dewy grass as she leapt over the low crumbling brick wall. Turning in a quick circle before lowering her nose to the ground, Magadalene started to explore, snuffling around for anything interesting.

Oh, that was interesting!

The pungent scent of feline forces her head upward, eyes bright and ears perked. Where was it? It smelled big and mean, a force to be reckoned with. Ah, there in the shadows. Stalking, staring back at her with black eyes. Magdalene freezes, muscles coiling beneath her shiny, luminous pelt. Well, not all of it is illuminated, just the neon streaks that dampen with the moisture in the air. Definitely gives a "stay away" vibe to anyone with intelligence, but Magadlene didn't exactly care for personal space either.

"C'mere kitty, kitty," Mags croons, a wicked smile breaching her lips as she began to stalk the cat in return. Eyes training on the predator, ready to pounce in retaliation if it decided it wanted to give her a go.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Decrees to abscond from this opulent, june-bud and fresh green’s garden was nearing absolute, until a putrid, venal stench infiltrated the graveyard’s nostrils; tiger, a creature she’d seen many times before.

Was this one not tame, however? Lucid, even?

Their primordial conscience must’ve bled too much, or so she sought to consider. Truthfully, she wouldn’t have cared too much if it weren’t for the child that loitered nearby, sunless nebula’s negating its gaze upon that of a prismatic, bioluminescent dire. The air blew frosty, tousled jacket gallivanting a dominant demeanour -- coalescing galaxies stood out against the sage pastures, swells of navy-blue concocting with plum, fuchsia and apricot hues -- ultramarine wove, breathing soot and claret-red. Lebraid stared, calculative and glacial. Mayhap this would offer an opportunity, an accolade, or a means to convene intelligence on those she did not know, and the lands that held patrimonies. For now, albeit, dinner had yet to be served. “If you want to kill it,” Words began, almost drooling in a loathly, grotesque mien, “Don’t hesitate.” A snarl suffused from the depths of her gut, ghostlike and bludgeoned by the tempests of helheim; defences assumed, muscles flexed as she burst into action. She cared not if they got hurt, really. There would be no mercy here, slaver therein befouling those agape, cimmerian jowls as she attempted to close the distance –– if so, she’d aim to lunge at the tiger’s right with latitudinous forearms.

And in that same second, should it prove triumphant, cuspids dared to grasp the feline’s neck with a ferity so raw, so demonic, she couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of what it might taste like.

Text | "Speech" | Skill

code by Cloudy

In a flash, another wolf enters from across the field. Taking both Magdalene and the tiger by surprise. Glacial words slice the frosted air as the figure draws closer to them. Blinking a few times, her brows notch together and head cants. Well, she was going to attack the tiger, but why should she listen to a stranger? Confusion in her youthful mind clouds her judgment. If it weren't for the older female deciding to leap into action, Mags would have been the tiger's next meal.

She stumbles back a few steps as blood sprays a few feet from the tiger's neck. The two begin to entangle around each other as Mags fights through the fear and confusion. Right, attack, kill, do something stupid!

Charging forward, Mags goes toward the opposite side of the tiger. Reaching out with her own jaguar claws, she sinks them into the tiger's shoulder and rips through muscle and flesh. The tiger yowls in response, curling toward her to retaliate.

"Magdalene"

It’d been so long since a live repast purged itself into an benign offering, be it a predator of prey –– if it’s their wits that were wasted, she’d gladly expunge them from this earth.

And yes, while perhaps her own sanity could be questioned at times, ferality will never be one of them. Lebraid would sooner die than become completely insane or aberrant of all morals; thunderous, fervent rumbles belted from within, gaping jowls therein seizing the tiger’s skin-parcelled, fleshy tendons. My, how moreish. They sunk with absolute savagery, blood spewing over her face, torso and the mossbed, spring-green topography underfoot, staining its nonpareil botany in the devil’s wine. Sweet, irony pungency’s barraged inside the hellion’s mouth, refusing to relinquish as the feline swung with redress, wailing and hollering like a pessimistic fool as it wrested its claws slantwise down Lebraid’s chest. She snarled, pitiless and devilishly cyclonic. Pain poisoned every fibre and follicle, nerves bleeding hot with adrenaline -- of course, that did not mean she didn’t revel in it -- an unpredictable craze seeped from those achromic, deadpan eyes. Clots of fur matted and wrangled in a fray she would not lose; ardency wreaked as the child joined in, sputtering growls mutilating in cut-throat ravishment. Death was not optional, and so canines dared to beset harder, gelled, at the peril of nothing but the tiger’s own demise, maybe; all while, the cadaverous graveyard intended to reach its jugular from the outside in, hacking and mauling at goluptious flesh, meat and beefy, succulent muscles like it were her last fucking meal.

She wanted it to focus on her.

Text | "Speech" | Skill

code by Cloudy

Funny how effective wolves could be. For how mutated she is, the predators should be terrified of her. Even if she is young, she is a formidable force. Rendering through flesh and sinew, gore and blood flying through the air. A guttural growl that doesn’t belong in a lady ripples up her throat. Excitement and adrenaline send electrifying tingles down to her very toes. This tiger would not last.

Just as the feline turns to focus on the stranger, Mags takes her opportunity. Surging forward, sharp teeth grasping around the side of its neck. Sinking in, practically drinking its blood, she feels the pulse of its heart on her tongue. Delicious and horrible all at the same time. Soon, it would be over. It was theirs now.