Love was always a hard thing to say, to admit. It was something that could be felt with such an amazing power, that somehow simply saying the words didn't do it any justice. But if one could feel love so easily, could it not be over looked for a feeling of say, joy? Or thankfulness? And could it not also be under looked? Someone could jump to the feeling of love to cover up something about themselves? Othello sighed, kicking up a bit of dirt as she stumbled into the willow forest. It was the middle of the night, but she couldn't sleep. In fact, this ivory wolf rarely did sleep. Her dreams were full of scary things, stuff that she didn't want to visit. In her dreams, she was herself. That was something that she did not want to be.

Othello's purple eyes glistened in the moonlight, her paw steps silent as she worked her way to the heart of the forest. Because her paws were furry, she was able to stalk and move without being heard. The femme had also had to grow up hiding from others, and learned how to move with silence. She was thankful for it, being a loner and all. She could move without anyone knowing she was there, as long as she stayed downwind from them and was hiding in shadows. Being a lighter coloured wolf though, it was hard to hide in plain sight.

Anger suddenly coursed through her body and she froze, twitching slightly. There was no thought that triggered it, no sight that made her feel it. It was just a random burst of strong emotion that she couldn't even understand it herself. She had to control it, otherwise she would lash out and attack something, or harm herself. She hated these mood swings, hated it! Thinking about trying to control herself only made her even more mad. As the anger boiled through her veins she lashed out at a moss covered branch, leaving deep score marks in its bark. Then she ran, ran as fast as she could through the woods. She seemed to fly over fallen logs and rocks, dodging them with ease. Or at least, she thought he did. Her paw hit a rock and she flew through the air, pile driving herself into the earth.

Othello landed with a thud, her body crashing heavily into the earth. She felt her head spinning, saw stars dancing across her eyelids. That is when it happened - the crazy white wolf blacked out. Huh, of course. She started the night thinking of love, and ended it with an angry burst and a black out.

There was a warm stillness to the night that made it an enjoyable experience to be beneath the light of the stars and in the sway of a soft midnight wind. Lately he rarely seemed to find himself in slumber at these silver hours; His paws seemed to hold no limit and the earth no end, and with the calm around him he could find no fault to the night. He would wonder from the moment that dusk had set its mark until this moment, for here he would be forced to still and raise his head to listen against the sounds of forest. He could hear something moving against the earth, a quickness to their pace that spoke of some madness, perhaps he heard a hunter in flight, or creature fleeing such fate. The sounds of flight against the forest would end in a crash, before all would fall again to stillness. But his curiosity had found its way to his paws and they took to a flight of his own ? abide a more measured one, without the panic and madness. His steps would be light against the earth and his dark coat to the shadows with an inborn caution. A caution it seemed, that had no need for the plight of this woman. He would find her in her current state, as she lay against the earth. He would take in her scent and catch no tell-tale signs of injury, and he would find his eyes grazing against her features, to the bleeding lines against her closed eyes. The unblemished softness of her coat was luminous and her tail fanned out behind her in a flow of silk and softness. He would sigh, shake his head and surmise she must have, somehow, knocked herself out. He would sit a few strides away, watching to ensure no one took advantage of her current state and resign himself to the wait of her return to conciousness. "My sounds""My Soul"

The darkness was ever welcoming, it was most likely the first time she had been rocked in its quiet blackness in quite some time. No visions, no nighttime terrors. Just a bottomless pit in which she floated mindlessly in. She could stay there for a lifetime and not care, not being aware was a gift she had missed out on. But too quickly that bliss was taken away from her, her senses slowing returning to her pale body. The awareness of her own being came first to her, and then she could hear the wind rustling the low hanging branches of the willow trees. A strange feeling crossed her ivory body, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. Someone was watching her.

Othello stayed as still as possible, waiting until she felt more alive to address this watching creature. She didn't feel threatened, and the night was so calm. She groaned softly as the pounding pain entered her cranium, and she ever slowly opened her violet eyes. Turning her head slowly to the left, she saw the highlighted form of a strange wolf. Blinking her sore oculars she tried to make sense of this situation. Why was he staring at her? Was she bleeding? She pulled her paw out from under her and dabbed it on her forehead, but it came back clean.

The dame sat up, her head spinning as she moved a bit to quickly. Another groan vibrated in her throat, and she wanted to shake her head. Thinking better of it, she instead settled her attention on this stranger. She didn't even have time to toss on a facade, but she was too dazed to let her emotions run rampant. "What happened?" She asked quietly, her own vocals sounding foreign to her. Had this stranger been here long, watching her as she was being held captive by the beautiful darkness? Confusion danced in her eyes, her head tilting to the side as she tried to answer her many questions. Had a full day passed, or was she merely out for a matter of minutes? There was a lot she didn't know, and she hoped that this brute could answer them for her.

Time would pass by, and he settled against the back of a tree and occupied his time by passing his gaze over her feathures, then returning it to the outside world, searching and listening. It was quite again in the forest, now that her little insane dash had completed its course. There was the occisonal cry of an owl as it circled the world above, and the skitter of little creatures as they set about foraging and fleeing from the terrors of the sky. It was the stillness that told him first of her rise to awakening, for the little movements of sleep, the peace of obliviousness that had relaxed her was gone. She stilled, like one aware but uncertain and appraising her situation. So he would stay in his watchful silence, his eyes falling again upon her form. Again, he took in the contours of her body, the perfect curves and plushness of her form. He was not so innocent as to ignore the perfection of her beauty, or so chivalry that he could not admire her form. She would groan, and he would be pulled from his thoughts to move his eyes to her face in time to see their orbs blink upon him. He would take a surprised breath at the shades he saw beneath and found himself double-taking, eyes flitting across her form for the shape of a cross, the mark of his bloodline. But no, it was with a measure of relief he assured himself she was not family, she simply shared the strange tones of his orbs. His expression would form into a smirk as her paw would dabble across her head and she would bring it again to eye level, as through expecting from his staring to find something there. He would simply watch as she finished her path to awareness, groaning and bringing herself to her hunches. It would be when she spoke that he would move himself from the tree trunk and closer to her form. He would kneel down beside her so his form did not tower above, and he would look carefully into her luminescent orbs. ?You, my dear, did a magnificent job of knocking yourself out I dare say? He said, his voice half serious but his eyes where dancing. ?I'm Crucifix, and do I get a name to match this beautiful creature?? he would ask in smooth, shameless tones. "My sounds""My Soul"

The dame did take awhile to come too, but from the pain in her head she seemed to land on it with quite the impact. The thing that she was struggling to really get her head around was this beast before her. He moved closer to her, causing the timid and closed of being to shy away from his closeness. He stopped though, lowering himself so that she did not have to stretch her neck up just to meet his eyes. As Othello studied this one, she caught his look of amazement, and she simply blinked at him. It seemed to pas quickly, but that did nothing for her confusion. And boy, was her head spinning.

The males heady tone reached her ears, causing her head to flash sideways as she took in his speech. She was still not fully aware of everything, so she really needed to absorb his words before she could even muster a reply. He seemed sweet, and even this fae had to admit that he was a sight for sore eyes. Suddenly feeling bashful, she picked up her paw and drew circles in the grass in front of her, very quickly distracted by it. Her purple eyes met his under her lashes, slow blinking making them flutter. Flirting? Maybe...

She realized that he had said his own name, yet she held hers back. Was it an act, making him wait? Or was her brain really that rattled. Crucifix seemed to say that she knocked herself quite hard, so it wasn't that surprising. And he called her beautiful. Othello's elongated tail flowed behind her on the landscape, wagging slowly at the compliment. Boy, was this brute ever turning her into a ball of mush. "Othello." She said finally, her sing-song vocals breaking the silence that had spread before them.

Settling both her tail and her form, Othello found herself oddly comfortable around this wolf. That was very strange, considering that she was normally very closed off and cast aside any stranger she met. "Thank you for, uh... watching over me." The dame said softly, heat spreading across her black marked face. Damn, what was up with her? Did she toss on the facade of damsel in distress without even realizing it?

"Speech"
'thoughts'

it would seem this girl, despite her slow awaking was not totally oblivious to the powers of her beauty, nor to disjointed to muster up the ability to use them. Her eyes would lower over lashes, and her gaze would creep up to him. There was something and sweet in the gesture, despite the slight fluttering she offered his way. He was caught in that movement, in those strange swirling eyes. She did not answer him immediately, and he was forced to wait, to remain in his crouched position just above her, to take in her lovely, dazed eyes and to watch as she reformed her position. To movement of her tail, the slow tug of its form against the earth would also draw his eyes, taking his attention from her features for a moment. He watched, mesmerised, that slow movement of that gorgeous extremity. Damn, she was a fine creature. Finally, her voice would slip through in softly singing tones, a far cry from the sounds of the night and in comparison the calls of owls was a rough voice in the darkness. No, this girl far outshone her surroundings and he marvelled at his luck in finding her. Her thoughts also seemed to follow this path, for she thanked him for watching over her. ?My dear, it was my pleasure. I get great entertainment from watching girls sleep? It was said, as most of his jokes where, in a serious tone, but disillusioned by the dancing of his eyes and the light upturning of one lip as he appraised her, this Othello in her white beauty. "My sounds""My Soul"

She couldn't help but notice her power over this male, his eyes moving to watch her tail sweep behind her like a banner. She noticed his purple eyes, they burned into her mind. It wasn't often that she ran into someone with matching hued eyes, and she surly wasn't going to soon forget it. A sly smile crept its way on to her maw, pulling her black lips upwards. Yes, she held a bit of power over this brute, but Crucifix was no excuse to her. Never before had she felt so... right with another being before. Even her own brother made her shutter when he touched her, but this male? Well, she simply found herself yearning to feel his soft touch.

When Cru spoke, Othello felt taken aback by his comment. She wasn't sure if she should blush or chomp down on his paw. Shrugging her delicate shoulders, she decided to roll with the punches. "I am glad to be able to entertain you, sir." She said softly, her vocals silky smooth. She slumped forward slightly, running her damp nose up his leg and buried her face into his chest. Ah yes, he was soft indeed. Inhaling his musky scent, she slowly pulled back. Othello kept her body close, mere inches from the darker body of the brute. The heat poured off the creature, warming her smaller frame.

"What can I do to thank you for caring for me?" She whispered, running a single claw down the length of his leg. Ah, flirting was such a natural thing when it came to Crucifix. With others she needed to place on a facade, but with him it seemed that she could be natural. Oh how long it had been since she had let her own self reign. She wanted to know more about this cross-marked male, wanted to know why he above all others made her feel safe.

The night had faded to the backgrounded somewhere along the line, although he was never oblivious to it he did simply cast it into the recesses of his mind. This beauty before him it seemed had finished collecting herself from her little stunt. She sat before him now, with there attention symmetrically aligned and his appraisal more difficult to hide. Not that he bothered, he had no problems with her seeing the raise of his eyebrows, the draw of his lips into a smile and the dancing of his orbs across the markings against her own eyes. With her next words, he would find even more reason to be entertained, as she took his words in stride. He was caught off guard, a rarity for the beast as she pushed her nose against his fur. For the moment he lost his line of thoughts, the teasing track of his words. He blinked against the touch, looking down at her as she used all her 'feminine wiles' as she pushed her crown into his chest, and breathed in the scent of him. He was... well, he was astounded that the being would be this forward, and had thought his own, forward words would have unbalanced her. When she pulled herself from the unexpected embrace she did not move herself far, and he finally brought himself back again. His breath a sigh of warmth and an add mix of affection for this creature. He was himself again by the time her next words where upon her maw, and his smile was teasing, with the hint of a sly nature. ?A few things come to mind? he teased, but again, she was ahead of him as a claw skimmed the surface of his leg, bringing a surprised breath from his tones. Normally he was the one making the flirtatious moves, but this was much further along and utterly unexpected. It would appear that she was very grateful for his unexpected protection. He would move his own head forward, his breath would tickle against the side of her neck as he breathed her in. He would think of raspberries and unable to help himself would brush a lick against the outside of her ear, flicking it gently against the brisk furs there. He was recollecting himself again, a little more prepared for her flirtations, a rumble would start in his chest, a satisfied sound of contentment as he drew back his tongue between his fangs. ?Mmm.. well.. i'm quite satisfied with a taste ? he purred, his tone teasing once more, his eyes dancing against hers as he answered how she could repay him. That in part, she could take that lick to mean the end of his taste, or that she could take it further was left to her. "My sounds""My Soul"

Nothing else mattered to this female, not while she had a sexy hunk of wolf before her. Not even the slight breeze through the willows pulled her attention away from him. A soft chuff erupted from her maw, a happy sound indeed. It wasn't often that this happened to her, and she was going to soak in every. Single. Moment. A guttural purr-like sound followed, watching this beast squirm before her. She was beating him at his own game, and her victory was sweet.

Speaking of sweet... Othello hummed softly at his first set of words. Yes, many things were running through her mind as well, thoughts that almost made her toes curl. His warm breath ruffled the fine hairs on her face, and she closed her eyes to revel in its heat. She could swear that she could taste his wants in that breath, feel the base need warm the two of them. She could surly bask in this for a lifetime. When he pulled his face to her neck, she leaned into his touch as he drew in her own unique scent. She rubbed her cheek against his neck, her sensitive whiskers shaking as they contacted his dark neck. The to her surprise, a wet, hot lick was placed on her ear. Her audit flickered at the contact, her body shuttering with a feeling of need. Oh how she wanted more of that.

"Why have just a taste when you can have oh-so-much more, dearest Crucifix." She whispered, using her close advantage to place her words very close to his own ear. She wanted him to quiver the way he was making her. Pulling her tail close, she turned her body so that she was able to tickle his flank with her tails long, curly tail. She did not miss him admiring her appendage so, and would use that to her advantage.

Her body was hot against him, and his earlier chivalry was long forgotten for this moment. She was definitely taking her own steps in seducing him and he melted into her touch, the caress of her check against his own sent shivers against his spine. Yes, she definitely had no protest against the brush of their fur and his stolen taste of her skin. His initial surprise to her willingness was washed away by the desires that flowed through him. Her willingness hungered through him, his desire for a taste would not be satisfied by that single brush against her ears. It truth, it had been a long time since he had lain with a woman, despite his occasional bout of flirtation with the girls he had met. And this one before him, was utterly delicious, with her soft curves, and his fondness for the silky whiteness of her coat. The luminescent glow of her orbs only added to the captivating effect, and he knew without a doubt that he wanted her. Her voice would sing out again in harmony, her words most desired as they offered more of herself that the single taste he had taken. Her use of his name brought him to a shudder and he inched himself forward, brining their fur to touching, feeling the warmth of her full him. Her words had whispered against his ears, tickling him in a pleasing sensation and he would sigh against her coat. Next, she would bring about the curl of her astonishing tale, the long curls touching against his skin and he would shiver against her, drawing her closer, breathing in her scent and taste. ?Your right, I don't think a taste would be nearly enough? he whispered, his chest rumbling with the sensation of a purr. ?I want you? he said now, his voice oddly rough, raw and even soft as he whispered it against her forehead, how he wanted her. "My sounds""My Soul"

More fine detailed emotions were beginning to be replaced by basic ones, ones that had been dormant for far too long. The further the two wolves drew each other in with honey sweet words, the more simple her feelings became. Want. No, need. Othello had not longed over one for a long time, and those had all been to protect herself, to hide who she really was behind a sex crazed beast. But she dropped that facade after it made her feel more and more worthless. She was dirt then, just another notch in most brute's belts. She was nothing to them, therefore she was nothing to herself. But here and now? There was something different about Cru, about the things she felt for him. It was mutual, and she felt wanted. She felt powerful, and most of all, she felt sexy.

Soft touches and caresses were quickly not becoming enough. She could feel the energy exude from both their forms, spiraling towards the heavens in their own embrace. Hunger for each other played in the forefront of their minds, she saw it in his lavender eyes. Her own seemed to shine brighter with the desire flashing through her like heat waves, making her feel as if her world was moving all too fast, yet not quickly enough. More, more. Her body craved more touches, more tastes, more passion. Othello looked the sex god before her with lidded optics, taking him in for all he was. Strong, and large. She smirked at that thought, one half of her smile seeming to pull up higher than the other. Yes... large in a number of ways. He could lift her up with his jaws as if she were a pup, drag her and pull her. She gritted her ivories at the thought, her heart pounding in her chest as an exasperated sigh wound out of her throat. Mmm, rough. She could already feel the bark biting into her fur as Crucifix forced his way on her, their frenzy to claim each other sounding into the calm night. Othello's claws dug into the earth, biting into the ground like she wished he was to her scruff.

She felt a shutter pass through the brute's body, something that she had been waiting to feel. It only tossed more wood onto her own flame, her appetite growing for him. Obviously his name on her devious lips left him wanting more, more words softly spoken between them. Names being howled out in the heat of the moment. Her mind spun at these images filling her head, overlaying each other. She shook her head softly, trying to regain focus. She wanted this to draw out as long as it could, she wanted to tease him until he begged to have her. That, or until he forced his way on her. Oh the thoughts that were clouding her mind, and her judgment.

His next spoken words made her fur stand on end, a strange yet wonderful feeling stirring deep within her belly. Want her? She was wanted? Othello had never been wanted like this before, and she committed that feeling to memory. Hopefully this was not her last encounter with this wonderful brute, for she was afraid that she would never feel this way again. His voice was gruff, yet still silky smooth. His chest rumbled with a sound that made her claws dig further into the earth, pulling up chunks of the landscape. "Oh Crucifix," she whispered, releasing her hold on the ground and pulling herself to her paws. "I want you more than I want to breath." Her nose brushed the rim of his ear as her words were spoken into it. The dame walked in a tight circle around the male, her tail that he so adored drawing across his structure. Teasing, that is what this was. "If you want me so much..." she said out loud, stopping behind the male, "then take what is yours." Standing on her toes, the dame stretched her pale body upwards and nipped Cru at the base of his neck, falling to the earth with a thud. Hunger burned bright in those purple eyes of hers. A temptress she was...

There was something with the touch of their bodies, the warmth of their fur together. He could feel her against him, was so very aware of every part of them that touched, to her head against his chest, to her fur curled about his legs, the soft silk of that extremity light upon him, as light as a brush of lips against his fur. He tingled at the touch, losing himself in the feel of her even this little bit made himself want to lose himself so much more to her. To give himself over to her, and, ohh.. for her to give herself over to him. He didn't know how much time passed beneath the blanket of darkness above them, did not know the movements of the forest. He forgot everything to her, and to her touch. He would caress her gently in his hold, gentle, firm and rich with his flow of emotions. As she had touched her cheek to his he would push his cheek into her again, wrap his tail about her rump, draw her so much closer, so close that only one thing could possibly make them more of a single being. Her words, her every word said in that rich, singing voice would make him gasp with want and need. Said in an admission of her own want only deepened the desires. Then she was up, and he hated to relinquish any grip upon her. But she would not leave his side ? he did not think he could handle it if she did. Instead she walked about him in tight circles, touching and taunting and showing herself to him. The swish of that fine tail would drape against him, and it was captivating, the rump it connected to swayed with her walk in a pleasing movement. Still she talked, and his eyes followed her every movement, craning his neck so he would not lose sight of her for a second. He was very much entranced by her, by the power she held over him. She stood behind him then, her words a soft command, a command he burned to hear. She would reach up and nip at his neck, her soft grip against him was the last straw. He turned in a graceful, slow movement as the thud of her paws against the ground resounded with a thump of his heart. He turned and reared up, grasping her body in his paws, wrapping himself around her, owning her, but he did not yet take her. He pulled her to the ground with him so they both lay upon there sides, him with his legs still wrapped possessively around her. He curled his head into the side of her neck, nipping gently at the folds there, rubbing his nose against the soft of that fur. His tail curled about her hind leg as he pressed every part of his body into her, the thud of his heart audible with his chest pressed into her side. ?Everything of you is luminescent, and beautiful, sweet Othello? he whispered into her ear, tickling against the furs there with his breath and a brush of his lips. ?I want you? he said again, burning, his voice and body burned with all the desire, and then, he took her. "My sounds""My Soul"