Amaranth. Her name held no meaning other than the power she put behind the title. With each step, her pads pressed upon the dirt, making imprints, leaving behind a singular tell-tale sign that she had explored like thousands of wolves before her no doubt. The deciduous forest was thick, it was easy to become lost, trapped within its confines, a part of her wanted too. This solitude she had procured was beautiful, wondrous. Her thoughts were her own, her choices, her decisions. If she wanted to turn right and start walking she could, if she wanted to turn left and venture toward the ocean all she had to do was alter her direction... and even better still? Not a single cock came anywhere near her, hadn't in months. Her hind in no longer ached, she no longer felt filthy and used up. She was finally free.

The incline was steep, almost ridiculously so, she wondered vaguely why she had even bothered... oh right, she had never seen the ocean and she wanted to see it now, and even if she never made it to the bottom, if she stayed engulfed within the forest for the rest of her considerable days, she would be fine. getting lost would imply she had been going somewhere to begin with and Amaranth had nowhere to be. Amaranth had nothing, no family to speak of, no friends, no pack that depended on her, she was a vanquished spirit, invisible, she would never exist, a smile curled her maw, her chains were gone and she was free! Free! That word had not left her mind once, it made her feel light hearted and dizzy all at the same time.

The forest broke apart vanishing in a few quick paces, the ground turning to liquid sand beneath her pads and with two pads sinking deep, she froze, golden gaze drifting across the waves. She had never seen water move quite like that before. She paced forward uneasily, the sand being a familiar terrain but the water not so. The scent of salt reached her nostrils and she confirmed that it was not to drink. She came to a halt just as the waves were brushing against her ankles. The sunlight glittered off the waves, blinding her just as the foreign scent of a male reached her nostrils.

Her lips would coil over ivory diamonds she called her canines, her head would careen around, golden eyes narrowing in a fierce gaze, her head would lower and her hair would stand on end. Claws digging into the sands, preparing herself. If it was a mercenary she would rip them apart. Her posture promised pain to any that would oppose her. The docile, gentle dame no longer existed. "Show yourself!" The snarl would be menacing and cold, ripping from her larynx and promising something sinister.

Creedance. His name was the name that was told in horror stories, names that pups were told to make them behave. ?You better behave of the deamon Creedance will get you.? Nightmares, his whole persona was that of a nightmare. He would stalk through the forest, watching with satisfaction as little animals would scurry away from him, pausing to rip apart those who weren?t that lucky. Blood dripped from his maw, the crimson liquid staining the white fur and dripping from his teeth.

He thrashed his head from side to side, glaring at the forest around him. The air here had a salty tang, signaling that he was close to the ocean. The forest thinned here, sand starting to creep into the paths. He stalked forward, paws slamming on the ground causing the sand to whip up into his fur. A constant growl flowed from his maw, escaping from deep in his throat, sound that dared anyone to approach him.

His massive form erupted from the forest, at a steady pace. His paws sank into the sand, and he pushed forward and into the sea water. He followed the ocean around the tree line until he could see another wolf in the distance. He drew closer to her, doing his best to ignore her existence.

A snarl sliced across the air towards him, and he whipped his head towards her, his eyes glittering with malice. Who did this bitch think that she was , snarling at him? A deadly snarl ripped from his chest as he thrashed his massive head to face her. Gums rolled up showing his teeth, blood still steadily dripping from his last meaningless kill. ?Why does it matter?? The words tumbled from his maul, the malice behind them evident. He still faced away from her, showing his indifference at her very existence. Should this bitch choose to attack him, he?d rip her throat out, and watch her blood flow into the ocean. Yes, that very thought seemed to appease him.

Amaranth was a vicious creature, prone to furious bouts of rage and aggression. She hated most everything, seemingly nothing could crack through that cold frame of malice and indifference. Her lips would coil back over ivory fangs, a rumbling snarl vibrating up and through her larynx. Her tail would lash behind her, slicing through the air with wicked irritation. She was not a kind or gentle soul. She wanted to rip this figure apart and should it be one of her tormentors, she would meet them with tooth and fang until her body failed her. There would be no hole on earth they could escape her ferocity. He approach her, snapping back his own response. Her snarl would heighten, rising in its pitch, golden eyes narrowing into a wicked glare as she locked gazes with this monstrosity.

His scent was familiar too her. Sparking a memory and instantly she imagined the ruby stain of his life spilling out across his fur drenching his pelt and the sands beneath them, thoughts of the sea had vanished, thoughts of life had vanished. She recognized that scent...but it did not bring forth her anger and aggression. This confused her. Anyone of her past should have brought forth indiscernible rage and malice, they raped her, they beat her, they gnawed at her flesh like demons have starved, but he brought a calming sense of peace washing over her. How...why?

The snarl died in her throat as she recognized the strange markings adorning his face, and for a moment she could do naught but stare. Improbable, impossible, inconceivable. He was dead. She had watched him die. She had watched them rip him part. He was dead! He was dead! He was dead! Her confusion morphed to malice. Who was this imposter who dare toy with her? Who were they to force her to remember? Who were they to remind her of that day? She snapped, her teeth coming together in an audible click. Her hackles rose and her claws tore into the sands, barely concealable rage washing over her.

"Who the fuck are you and why do you pose as my Cree." It wasn't a question but a command. The snarl ripping through the air like the crack of a whip, her tones venomous, poisonous, toxic. He would answer or Amaranth would rip him apart.

The waves of the salt water lapped against his legs, soaking his fur to his flesh. He faced the bitch before him, his jaws coiled into a snarl. Who did she think she was? Something about her, seemed familiar, but he disregarded it. He wondered who she was, but that didn?t matter. His mind quickly turned to his wondering of what her flesh would feel like as he ripped it apart under with his jaws. What would she taste like? How would her crimson life stain his pelt?

He was a handsome wolf, tall with a thick white pelt. Grey and tan markings adorned his face, special only to him, and an anomaly from his pack. His mother?s pelt was a fleck grey and his fathers was tan and white. How these marking had came to be were a mystery to all of them. He took an orb from each of his parents in the theoretical sense. One of his mother?s blue eyes, and one of his father?s golden. He was like the perfect mold between his dead parents.

He surveyed to wolf before him, taking in her frame and build. Her next words, however, stopped him in his examination. ?Who the fuck are you and why do you pose as my Cree.? The words weren?t a question but a statement. ?Cree?? Only one wolf had ever called him that, and that was a name that he used to fuel his vengeance.

His massive frame would turn towards her completely, his head lowering to protect his throat and his paws bracing himself in the wet sand. His tail would stick out behind him, balancing him, and he would then stalk forward slowly. A feral snarl would rip from his throat, as he stared down the bitch before him. No one called him Cree and survived to repeat it.

?I am Creedance. Fool, why do you address me as Cree? Don?t you know who I am?? The words echoed around them filled with power and malice. This fool would answer him and try to run from him, or she?d die the fool she seemed to be standing in the ocean water. Her carcass would be shark food, and he?d stand from the bank watching as they ripped her apart.

Amaranth snarled, fangs born, protruding from her lips. Her hackles would raise just a little bit higher and her head would lower, even and aligned with the rest of her bodice. Claws flexed into the sand, the waves crashing just barely over her paws. She hated this pseudo-creature before him and she would rip his balls from his body if he did not answer her quickly. How dare he impersonate him! She shifted, muscles rippling in anticipation, anger flaring, clouding her common sense and her judgment. Her vengeance could not be sated, nor her anger cooled. Creedance, her only friend in a world of misbegotten lies had been slaughtered mere inches from her. Ripped apart and opened for the maggots to dine upon. Cree was the name that fueled her anger and her wickedness. She would tear this man apart for daring to impersonate what was so precious too her. His memory was untarnished, pristine, perfect in her head, and he would not mock it! He would not be a mocking testament of her beloveds past! She would kill him! Seconds before she charged him, he spoke, what his name supposedly was and questioning why she called him such a nickname. Her nostrils flared, vision bleeding to red, it was impossible he had died. She had seen him! She had watched his body lay still, rotting amongst the rest! This was impossible! She snarled, a vicious wicked sound and in two heavy beats her body was mere inches from his own, nostrils flaring, eyes swimming with a hatred intense enough to be felt in the air. "Lies! Creedance is mine! My Cree, mine! He's dead, his corpse rotting in some God forsaken field far beyond these lands! Stop lying! I am Amaranth! Cree's mate, Cree's lover! Tell me who the fuck you are! And why you impersonate my mate! Give me one goddamn reason why I shouldn't rip your testicles from your body!" If poison could be laced within words, it was in hers. So much hatred, so much anger, so much absolute cynicism... she could not contain it. Her voice oozed in absolute fury, demanding and commanding the ivory creature before her. Speech,

Head would lower, protecting his neck, as he squared off facing the woman before him. She seemed, oddly familiar, speaking to a strange part of him. His fur bristled, as she snarled. He wouldn?t run from this fight if it turned into a fight. What was one more meaningless slaughter? Cree? the only wolf to ever have called him that was Amaranth. His childhood play-mate, and lover. His first love? the only kindness his dark heart ever felt.

She spoke, with malice. Though it was kind of hot, and it stirred a desire deep within him, it also infuriated him. Who was she to speak with him in such a manner? How did she have the guts? She denied who he was, and that was strange but not the craziest thing that he had ever heard. The she spoke her name, Amaranth. Could it be? Surely it was impossible.

Anger boiled inside of him, taking place of his dismissive stance of the bitch before him. A deep snarl would rip from his chest, as he stepped towards her. ?Who the fuck are you to impersonate Amaranth, my mate. My lover. She?s dead. Ripped apart by some mercenaries. Who the hell are you, vermin? Speak before I rip your tongue from your mouth.?

His two toned eyes stared at wolf before him, red clouding his vision. He would rip her apart. Starting with her tongue, he would the rip her apart, tearing her body apart, for shark bait.

He would bristle, his posture turning offensive and she would lower her own head, shielding her own vitals and slamming back her own ears as she readied herself for the rising bloodbath, her eyes would narrow and a snarl would pull the corners of her mouth into a heavy sneer. Eyes downcast and hate filled she would dare him to approach her, dare him to draw closer. She would rip him to pieces, she hated him for impersonating her Cree! She hated him and- She allowed her fury to cool, is only for a moment as she saw the recognition flicker in the depths of his gaze... it wasn't possible, it wasn't possible, she had spent a year and a half convincing herself that he was dead, rotting somewhere nothing but scattered, gnawed bones within the earth. he was dead, he had left her, from the wounds there is no fucking way he could have survived and yet... his phantom stood before her now, albeit angrier and more hostile, but those markings... no other wolf could have them. The snarl died in her throat, her eyes blowing impossibly wide, she took a step back and then another, legs threatening to bow beneath her. "Amaranth! Amaranth is my name! I grew up in a tiny pack, to a litter of three, Creedance, Cree was my best friend we grew up together because his litter mates were still borns." Her voice continued to rise in intensity, her emotions quickly returning to her. "But he died! I watched him! Mercenaries ripped him apart and tore me from his body! They raped me, they beat me, they tormented me and they killed my Cree!" She was suddenly before him once more, angry tears spilling from her eyes as she invaded his personal bubble. Why was he doing this to her? Why was he torturing her? This couldn't possibly be her Cree. "Who are you?" Speech,

He saw it. The moment that the flames died in her eyes, and his head tilted in response. He was bewildered. As she took a step closer to him, he held his ground his head lowering a little more watching her every muscle. She seemed so familiar yet so much of a stranger to him. Her words? her voice it was different but it spoke to him, in such a familiar way. He was bewildered and that made him angry. She said her name was Amaranth, but that was impossible. Those mercenaries had been ruthless, why, would they have kept her alive?

As the tears spilled from her eyes, he felt a strange desire to comfort her. It disturbed him, and he took a step away from her almost unwillingly. The words she had spoken rang in the air, and of their own volition, his lips parted and words tumbled out. ? I am Creedance.? He spoke flatly, coldly. His ears flattened against his head, his oddly colored eyes were dull and void of emotion. This conversation was possibly the strangest that he had endured, and he just wanted to escape it.

Amaranth's tears ceased and a snarl threatened to kill her mouth after her explosive narration of her blood past, in an instant, she had pressed her skill against his own, nose to nose, eyes to eyes, snout to snout. The burning passion in her eyes threatened to consume her, to burn her alive and destroy her from the power of her glare. A snarl, low and threatening would curl at the back of her throat. She no longer wished to play this mindless game, she was tired of her mind and her body being fucked with. Her lips would curl in a sneer that he couldn't see as she struggled to find her words. "Thats not what I asked you." Icy, bitter and cold the words would fall from her larynx. Her bodice trembled in... fury? Anxiety? Utter fucking euphoria? Did it matter? She would grate her teeth and force her brain to work, force the synapses to connect and work down her spine, snapping to her throat and forcing her lips to produce more words. "Are you my Cree? Did you survive?" The words were strained, harsh, grating against her throat as she released them. Speech,

?That?s not what I asked you.? ?Are you my Cree? Did you survive??

Her strained words echoed across the beach, and he took them in upon bewildered ears. Creedance had seen a lot in his lifetime, and had done a lot of things one couldn?t easily imagine, and more things one probably shouldn?t. This, however, was uncharted territory for him. This was something he never had imagined. Something that was simply? inconceivable.

Impossible.

Yet, perhaps it was the incredibility of the moment, or some long lost angel tapping into any fragment of goodness he had left. An angel searching for redemption in his soul. Silence befell him, and slowly his hackles lowered, and his head raised, his position loosing it?s offensive status. His jaws would part slightly and the words would gently fall.

?I am he. I am Cree.?

That was all the verbalization he could muster. That was all he could say. His brain seemed offline, on hiatus or something. He tried again to say something, tried to formulate words but he was unable. He came up empty, again and again.

He would answer her and Amaranth would be at a loss. Too many emotions swirled in the depths of her chest and she couldn't decide which one too pick. Aggression coiled around her heart out of conscious habit. Disbelief ensnared her in the stunned silence. Excitement swished through her gaze... and so many emotions that she couldn't name careened through her. her teeth would come down on her bottom lip hard enough to bleed. She couldn't decide if she wanted him to fuck her until she couldn't see straight or if she to rip his heart out from its place inside of his rib cage. ...For a long moment, she did nothing. Seemingly frozen, locked in place by her own decrepit madness. golden eyes would bore into mismatched orbs and she remained utterly still. How long had it taken her to convince herself that he was dead? How long had she spent hardening her heart because his visage would never be there to light up her world? And now he stood before her like some glorious phantom and suddenly, Amaranth had to move. Sliding downwards gathering her weight in her back legs, she lunged. Coiling her forelimbs around his shoulder and pressing her teeth to the pulsing jugular in his throat her body weight would hold him down, pressed against the length of his own, the contact brought a shiver down her back. The snarl was low, warning, but she hadn't hurt him...yet. "Why didn't you come for me?" The snarl was low... poisonous. Speech,

Disbelief coursed through his veins, accompanying the blood that pumped oxygen throughout his body. This was impossible. Absolutely impossible. Improbable. He was hallucinating. He had to be. Amaranth couldn?t be alive. The mercenaries wouldn?t have let her live this long. This wasn?t happening. In a flash, and faster than he could react she lunged. He froze as her teeth met his jugular and listened to her low words.

Creedance wasn?t a stranger to compromising positions, or positions that could turn deadly in an instant. There was a certain erotic pleasure to those situations, those moments when another?s embrace could turn into a violent fuck or could be the last thing you ever felt. He took a slight breath, and her scent hit her like a ton of bricks. Yes, it was different, but it was still her. It was still his Amaranth. He couldn?t help the slight arousal that began to build up in his even though, he was locked in her vice grip. It was his own biology, acting against his rationale, and he was addicted to it.

The feel of her body pressed against him, only hightened the arousal he felt, a cocky smile plastered across his jaws, he spoke. "I've always liked my fucks kinky, babe." The tone was sarcastic, but he froze as she spoke, her jaws buried into his fur.

A light growl vibrated in his throat, as his jaws barely parted to speak. ?Use your brain, love. Why do you think I am here?? He spoke with a certain sarcastic edge to his tone, his whole demeanor relaxed. She wouldn?t kill him? rip his balls from his body, maybe, but kill him?. That idea nearly made him chuckle with a strange sense of amusement. He couldn?t look into her eyes to see if she believed him or not, no, he would just have to wait to see her next actions.

She would stare, her eyes cruel but filled with disbelief, he would mimic her and even with her close enough to rip his jugular from his throat they would remain locked in what seemed to be impenetrable silence. Instead of blocking off the side of her that had mourned Creedance, she had merely discarded it, careening somewhere dark until it shriveled and ceased to exist. A desperate grappling, a pregnant pause... what was he expecting from her? What was she expecting of him? Until five minutes ago she had been damn sure she would never see the brute again until death reaped her soul. This was a situation the dame was wholly unprepared for, she had expected to be bitter and hateful, vicious and cruel until her dying day, he brought back... feelings. Whether good or bad she couldn't quite decipher, his words would come, laced with malice and she would snarl, a low and deadly sound, a warning. She had been raped so many damned times she wasn't sure if she could decipher pain from pleasure anymore, not that she had taken anyone willing to her bed since...well Creedance. "And how many fucks have you had since you last saw me Cree? I spent the last year getting plundered like some two bitten whore. You still want me body knowing that its nothing more than discarded trash?" The bitterness that crawled into her words could not be hidden, but his next words would almost bring a cruel smile, he answered her question with tones laced in sarcasm and arrogance. She would shake her head, the chuckle falling dark and cruel as she backed up, releasing him. "You came here with the intent to kill me before you knew who I was, I recognize that fury in my own reflection." her tones were cool, filled with cockiness at how well she could still read him. "Now that you have me pray tell... what will you do?" Speech,

Disbelief, hung in the air, thickening the air between the pair as one of the many things he never could have imagined occurred. He always supposed that he would be avenging the murder of the she-wolf that he once had loved, more than life itself, and today he was seeing her again. So many thoughts flowed through his mind as he stood still frozen in her powerful jaws. Muscles relaxed in his body, his eyes softening with an emotion that he hadn?t experience since he had watched those mercenaries take Amaranth away. Guilt course through him, a dull achy feeling that started in his heart grew through his body, frustrating him, the pain almost breathtaking.

Her words referring to his sexual life brought a chuckle from deep within his chest. Did she really want to go there? He was a man-whore at best. He couldn?t begin to count the number of sexual partners he?d had since he began his journey some time ago. None of the relationships had ever been meaningful, rather they had been a means to an end- a release. She spoke of how she had been treated as a whore, and it left him no room to wonder why the mercenaries had kept her alive. A new surge of fury at how the wolf, who had once been the love of his life had been treated rushed through his body. Perhaps the only redeemable quality that the monster had was his desire to see the end of Amaranth?s abductors. He wanted to feel the flesh peel from their bodies and watch with pleasure as they screamed in pain, the agony fierce they wouldn?t be able to form words.

?Darling, do you really want to use this heart-warming little reunion to speak of my sexual appetite? Or shall we continue on to the more interesting things.? His words would be laced with sarcasm, annoyance at her question blatantly obvious. Her words caused an odd feeling almost akin to pity and sadness to pool in his chest. Trash? Did she really consider herself that? For a moment, his demon fa?ade cracked only to be almost instantly re-enforced by his smart-ass shield (of doom), ?Trash? Sweetheart, your fine ass is nowhere near the definition of trash.? A chuckle escaped his throat, the muscles vibrating against her jaws where her teeth were still connected to his lifeline.

What did he want to do with her now that he had her? Could they ever be the same, silence met her final question as he pondered over everything from who they once were to who they could be. He was far from the monogamous wolf. He wasn?t the good wolf she had loved, he was a demon- a fiend of satan himself. What did Creedance the terrible want? For once, he was absolutely speechless.