There was a bit of pep in Isabella’s step as she wandered the lands of Boreas. Somewhere here her aunt lived, her father could be wandering, and surely her brother had come! A soft hum rose in the young femme’s throat as she swung her hips back and forth. Her orange eyes danced like a flame in the night, craving companionship, but alas she had yet to find the sort of… clients in this land she once had. It was such a shame… what was a poor girl to do? She let out a laugh, throwing her head back to let out a howl to those who might be nearby. Let those who dared come and play… she wouldn’t mind if it were a bit rough.

She's a silhouette upon the cliff where she is draped, head and front paws dangling dangerously over the edge. The moon is high, bathing the woman in silver light and giving her an unearthly look. Eyes glinted dangerously in their light and it was as if the demoness had finally clawed it's way from within to claim the woman's features as her own. The wind whispers against her skin, pulling at the tendrils of slate and ebon cloak, wishing to coax her from the edge. Part of the woman wants to give to it, to feel the adrenaline of the fall. To feel the brief kiss of death. Lips drawn into a crooked grin as a contented sigh escapes from wide chest. Lids slide to veil iced optics, a haunted tune rumbling from her chest in a soft hum.

Howling. It breaks her peace and lids snap open with an agitated growl. Audits whip wildly atop black crown to the direction with which it came. Lips pulling back to let ivors glint hungrily in the moonlight. Are you fucking kidding me? Thoughts are a snarl and she finds her limbs drawing her up onto pedestals in one quick movement. In an instant she is on the move, rhythmic and swift strides crossing ground quickly.

She slithers amongst the landscape, finally catching the scent of the one that had disturbed the beast. Eyes catch upon the woman as she emerges from behind a pile of cast aside rock, rejected and cold amid the beauty of the rest of the area. Her paw steps have slowed now, stalking towards the woman. "One should be cautious when casting out a call into the dark. You never know what demons it may summon." Lyrics are almost musical in origin but drip with the lethal promise of danger. Of one you would not want to turn your back on.

Issy was not to be disappointed that night when it came to company. Alas it seemed she'd summoned one of the dark hearts of Boreas, a self proclaimed demoness that stalked through the darkness towards her. Isabella knew demons, yes, and she was not afraid of but one more creature of chaos. She'd meet the threat, the promise of danger, with a good natured wink as she blew a kiss toward the other woman.

"Caution can go away with the wind, my dear." Her orange orbs shine with interest, her steps light as she begins to mimic the approach of her intended quarry for the evening. "I dance with devil's and laugh in the face of danger. Come, do you honestly think you can top the suffering that has already been cast upon this vessel? I dare you to try." Issy grinned widely. Oh yes... Regardless of where things were going she was sure to have a show tonight.

OOC: These two are going to be so fun!!!!


Dancing. It’s the only word that would describe the two women as they prowl towards each other. Bells of war and alarm sounding silently in the thick night air. She speaks and the level of self-confidence in her demeanor makes her fur prickle. Heat races within her frame, bringing with it the familiar longing for the fight. The longing to feel flesh break between ivors and even for the smart of pain from a lucky blow landed by the competitor. Paws are spread wide for traction as she continues to close the distance, hopefully stopping in front of the woman with the barest spaces between them. The stranger is similar in size to Quill but she was build for speed, being light in build, which she was clad heavy with muscle for war.

I dare you to try. The words caress audits, coaxing forward the woman’s inner demoness as she snaps angrily in her cage. She pulls at the bars and Quill can feel it deep in her chest, a low growl echoing from her vocals. Muscles twitch lightly in response, begging to close the distance but she stills them keeping the thoughts at bay. You say you know suffering but I would love to show you a complete other level. Thoughts are a hiss, echoing quietly in the caverns of her skull and her iced optics dance with excitement and hunger. Every part of her is alive and buzzing. Finally something interesting was happening around these increasingly boring lands.

”I am not dear to you, and if it is a fight you seek I would more than happy to give you one.” Words are cold, cast down hard to the small piece of earth between them. Ivors flash in the moon light, risen full above them to give the lands that ghostly glow. It seemed the lands around them were holding their very breath to see what would come of the pair.

How her eyes shown, alive with interest and desire. The beautiful woman before her, be her a devil or demon, was calling to her oh so sweetly. She was certainly no angel, for those feather brains were no fun at all. Issy didn’t mind a fight, even if she’d much rather prefer to be doing something else with the other femme. Perhaps, the femme thought, she might even have a chance at getting both yet from the temptress before her. Time was going to tell… and Isabella had decided that she had some patience to spare this time.

But oh how the growl that came forth made her shiver with delight. She perks her ears, a child who was playing with a new, and dangerous, toy. But her orange optics are not yet narrowed even though she moves lightly into more of a defensive stance. Her position was widened, weight distributed across all her limbs, shoulders squared, and finally her tail was aligned with her spine to aid in balance. Claws lightly bit into the soil, ready for however this evening was to turn out.

“So quick to fight and shoot me down…” Isabella cooed. “Surely I can entertain you in another way…?” She arched a brow at these words, giving a sly grin. “Though if you covet blood alone than I suppose there is nothing for it. Come then! Show me pain.” The she-wolf tipped her head downward, aiming to keep her throat at least somewhat protected. Her muscles tensed, she narrowed her eyes, and her ears pinned back flat against her skull.

Let the battle begin.

Isabella "Quinn" versus Quill for Spar / Dominance?
Round 0/2?
30"
Medium