Fable had never gotten along well with rules or guidelines. One could even go so far as to say she purposefully defied them just for the satisfaction of it all. She was a nonconformist, a free spirit, and a risk taker; a triple threat with a hell of a lot of promise for punishment. But did she care? Hell no. Which is exactly why she was just a hop, skip, and a jump away from Lentajin's border, looking every bit like the cat who'd gotten the cream. The ginger female had heard tale of the pack's ruthlessness when it came to intruders, and the sweet temptation to stick it to the tight wads was far too sweet for her to pass up. So there she was, practically prancing along their border, head held high and a tuneless beat humming in her throat. Her tail waved behind her like a banner, begging-- no-- daring anyone to try and put her in her place. Psh. Bunch of pansies. "Though' the laddiebuck said this was a frightanin' bunch. Dissapointin'." she practically cooed, green eyes narrowing as they gave the terrain one more quick sweep. It was rather odd for there to be no one out and about. Were they off having some big important pack meeting? Mayhaps they were all just too fat and lazy to protect their own lands? Figures. Once again, she was reminded why the life of a loner was the life for her. "Enough of that, now. Looks like this lot can't handle tha presence o' the great Fable. Ta hell wi'em." And with that, she turned her back on Lentajin and made to leave, not so much as giving it one last parting glance. An open target.

Oh arrogance, it was something she enjoyed snuffing out. The shadows of the pack had seemed to congregate around their queen. Her violet eyes were locked on the golden female that seemed so content to wander her realm. How many lives did she have to enslave till the rouges got the point? Perhaps she would have to execute a few and place their heads along the border. Perhaps then they would take the pack seriously. She wasn?t against a little body mutilation if it made them get the point. Her ear flicked lazily as she waited for the female to think she had won.

Soon enough the confidant stride that the bitch displayed way enough to ripple her coat into attention. Oh she would be eating her confidence soon enough. She withdrew herself from the shadows and made her way to block the on coming female. Her death was edged in the violet behemoths eyes. Her dark lips pulled back in a slick sneer as she looked down at the female. She knew nothing of this golden beauty but all she cared for was that her head would be decorating a spike right to the entrance of the pack borders.

?Oh, what a pretty little head you have. I think it would look far better decorating my borders with a bloody smile and a loss of a body.? She purred to the female. Her violet eyes lingered over her body. Nothing rang out to her as knowing this stranger and soon she was content to allow her future excitation to deter others from wandering freely around the assassin?s lands. ?The realm treats those who belong well but those that think they can just dance around our home with no repercussions, well let me inform you just how scary the shadows can really be.? She growled, her step pushing closer and closer to fable. Her ears were upright, hair on edge, and her violet eyes spoke volumes of what was about to happen.

?What do you have to say for your transgression?? she questioned, maybe just maybe this bitch could talk herself out of her damnation. ?Tell me why I shouldn?t take your head because at this moment my judgment is for your execution.? She said darkly. She was careful to say each and every word painfully slowly. She wanted to let this bitch know that her life was on the line and what ever the outcome was she would either be enslaved or dead.

Everything had been fine and dandy for a moment or two. She'd been well on her way on leaving the pack lands behind, albeit in a disappointed fashion. Would they truly fail to supply her with even a shred of entertainment? Jerks. But then, this monster, no, freak of a bitch had emerged from gods know where, towering over her like a bear or some other animal of immense proportions. The purple hued creature was all quivering hackles and yellow fangs, putting in quite the effort to look the part of the intimidating beast from below. She had it spot on, but it did little to flatter her figure. What a shame. "Pretty, aye? Sorry lassie, you're ain't m'type. I don't go for tall, dark, an' ugly." Her Irish accent was as thick as ever as her jowls twisted up into a cheeky grin. Most wolves would recognize the situation they were in and react accoringly. They'd beg, plead, maybe even cry a little, anything to avoid the death the indigo bitch was hanging over her 'pretty little head'. But was Fable like most wolves? Fuck no. She was a creature of pride, and she'd be damned if she gave the beast an inch. So she reacted as she always did, no mater the situation; she got snarky. "I ain't scared of no shadows, bitch, much less you. And why in the seven hells would I give ye a reason to spare me like tha' merciful creature ya fuckin' ain't?" She took a few steps forward of her own, craining her head up so she could maintain eye contact with the much taller female as they came toe to toe. "So ye can take yer' 'judgement' and shove it, cause I ain't got time ta' deal with egotistical authority figures like yerself. M'names Fable. Remember it. Cause it's the name of the one bitch in this world that ain't afraid of ya." And with that, she would fall silent, waiting for the brutish female's response. If luck was on her side, the pack-creature would be caught off guard by her outburst and give her time to make a hasty retreat. If not, well, the world couldn't deny that she didn't go down without a fight.

Everything froze for a moment. Death was so close that even the crows could see it clearly. It edged ever closer to the golden female. The scythe was only moments away from extinguishing her life. Yet in her moment of judgment she had said the only important thing she could have. Her name. it was her saving grace and the idiotic Irish bitch had no clue who detrimental that name was. She blinked for what seemed to her like a lifetime. This wolf looked nothing like her sister or did she? When was the last time she saw her sister?s face? Her twin but she had forgotten that little tidbit. What color were her eyes? What was her smell? What did her blood taste like again? Could it be? Could this disrespectful cunt really be her sister?

Nothing wavered in the queens expression as the seconds ticked on by. Her violet gaze never left the bitch before her. She watched her moments as it all sunk in. she gave away nothing. Not a hint of her motives. Not a triggered to warn the other of what was happening but she was gone and above the smaller female in an instant. It was as if the laws of physics did not applied to her. With all her mass and all her weight she had moved soundlessly. She was the assassin?s queen after all and her moves would be legendary. She would make sure of it.

Fangs sunk deep into soft tissue as she drank the bitch?s blood. She made sure each painfully increased stab was worst then the other as she slowly began to clamp her jaws closed. She knew the strength of her bite and if she wanted she could bite the bitches appendage clean off but no. This was meant more for torment and dominance than anything else. She could feel the muscles groaning in her mouth. The threat of blood leaking to the surface was becoming more and more pronounced. Soon enough it willed its way into her jaws and she sucked eagerly at it. she released the wound and pushed her paw into the females chest to simply hold her in place. Blood dripped off from her muzzle, as she looked the female deep in her eyes. A laugh erupted from her belly that was stark raving mad.
?Fable you say?? she all but spat the name into the ground beside her.
?Do dead wolves talk?!? she all but roared at her.

A spark of resentment filled her gaze for the female beneath her. She wanted nothing more then to end her life and do as she had threatened. Put the bitched head on a spike for the whole world to see. As it were she was marking her borders with trespasser blood. Her tail lashed out behind her with her furry as she growled again.
?You are a liar, tell me again what you are called before I put a end to that retched life of yours.? She snarled, though a tiny part of her screamed to stop. Just let her go! She could be her! How did they know she was not she? They couldn?t remember. It had been so long and the memories hurt so much. So why wouldn?t it be her? It showed in her gaze. The reluctance to kill the wolf before her now and she wondered if she would notice it. Such weakness. God she was the sentimental type wasn?t she?
?You cannot be Fable.? She said less assured. Her ears twisted backwards with unquenched pain and she whimpered and growled together.
?She?s dead.? She repeated finally. As if those little words were enough to bring her to herself and finish off the sentence she had given the trespasser. Who ever the hell she really was.

Pain, white hot pain, shot through her shoulder like lightning. Muscles spasmed and nerves screamed as the indigo bitch bit down on her like she was a fucking midday snack. A high pitched noise filled the air, and it took her a moment to realize it was her, screeching profanities mixed within agonized yelps. Burnt orange ears flipped back against her skull as her jowls rose, revealing rows of pearly whites. A snarl escaped her as the teeth in her shoulder were replaced with a paw against her chest. "Fuckin' bitch," she spat, green eyes blazing in a mixture of pain and fury. It took more strength than she'd ever admit to to repress the instinctual need to show submission to the creature looming over her, bloody muzzle so close, so potent. No way in hell would she ever give the slut the satisfaction. Fable; defiant until the very end. "Why the fuck would I lie about my name, ya fuckin' physco!?" she growled out between clenched teeth. She could feel the blood swelling from the puncture wounds and seeping into her fur like a warm caress, staining her ginger fur an ugly off-black hue. It would be annoying as hell to clean out-- yet another reason for her to pissed to high hell. "My name is Fable, do ya want me to spell it out for ya, ya idiot? I was born as Fable, raised as Fable, and now I live as Fable." The petite she-wolf wanted to scream, rave, and maybe even throw the brute against a rockface a couple dozen times. Anything to releash the pure, lethal wrath that was swelling in her gut. How frustrating it was to be questioned when it came to who she was. As if she could mess something like that up? It was like telling a bird it couldn't fly. Infuriating. "Do I look fuckin' dead to ya? Huh!? Do ya hear me!? I. Am. Fable. Get it through yer thick skull." Her throat felt raw, even though by now her tone had lowered to a soft rumble. The uncertainty in the she-wolf's eyes was giving her pause, a reason to hold back her anger for just a moment longer. Even through the blood haze that threatened to overcome her mind, she was able to recognize an oppertunity when she saw one. The bitch was second guessing herself, showing weakness. If she played her cards right, maybe she could get out alive, or at the very least without any more blood loss.

Could it be her? What color were her eyes? What color was her fur? God could she remember anything other then her name? Why had she come back! Why! Anger seemed to slam into her face as she pushed her paw harder into the females chest. Her lips curled in a snarl as she all but snapped her head off. ?How dare you come here!? she roared, her voice was almost hysterical with her rage. She didn?t know how to contain it. oh god, where was Zara. She needed her mater to reel in her emotions. Her eyes narrowed at the thought and looked down at the bitch under her. That was her fucking job! Wasn?t it? she was meant to be her guardian, her anchor to the real world and not the fantasy that threatened to consume her over and over again.

?After everything you dare walk into MY kingdom like some fucking harlot searching for a cock!? she raved, her violet eyes burned with death again. If only she could kill her, then bring her back, and kill her again she would. Over and over again she would break her until she knew what it was like to be lost. Until her mind broke and she could remember nothing and know everything at the same time. Then she would feel content to know her worthless sister knew her pain. ?Did you come for the power? Cerberus?s ass you were always lustful for power. Because if you thought I?d forgive you.? She said darkly, her voice growing as cold as ice, ?Well you were dead wrong my dear.? She emphasized on the dead part of it and couldn?t help the cold satisfied laugh that filled her voice as she looked down on her ?sister?.

She lowered her jaws towards the bitch. Her breath was hot against her golden throat. She could feel the life jumping around inside that throat. As if it were something alive and waiting to be set free. She could set it free. She felt herself tittering on the edge of sub coming to her urge. She was panting now as she edged to take the wolfs throat and something snapped in her head and she laughed, ?Oh no, I cannot be so kind as to allow death to take you away. We have much to catch up on you and I.? she purred as she removed herself from the female. ?if you run I?ll do more then bite your leg. I think I?ll just take the whole thing.? she said with a overly cheerful voice. ?You will be a Esclave.? She said finally, her judgment was passed and the sentence was given. The Fable, who she was convinced was her sister, would not become a slave to the pack. Unlike Dom she would be treated as such and they would have so much fun getting to know each other again.