Well this still wasn't right. She had tried to use her nose but things just got her all turned around. Now she was even more lost than before. Trees were here and snow was falling slowly. There was already some on the ground, and truth be told every track she found was starting to dishearten her. She had found some deer and even a few of her own. She was going in circles now.

Hunger crept up her throat and she was tired. She was almost going to just give up. At least if she did so she would have a chance at living. Though the promise of Rhyme's strength to defend her from ever having a master again had her hoping still. She stopped as she crossed another of her own tracks. This was harder than she thought. These woods had her turned around too. She laid down then a defeated look on her face as she set her head on the ground. She had a hopeless sense of direction. If she ever found her mother and her brother she swore she was never leaving the den area.

Breath pale against the numbing air, she blinked thoughtfully as the frost patiently kissed her face, captivated by the soft, dusty illusions of light that sat heavy on her ebon, long eyelashes, acting like a veil, protecting actuely beautiful visage. The world around her seemed like an unfinished painting. So much of the canvas was still perfectly white, as if waiting for the artists hand to return on the canvas and continue his ministrations. The morning light struggled through the murky cloud, but even in its weakness it was enough to blind. Her mile-long legs were gracing against the earthly terrain; so keenly traced, by the lengthy delineation of delicate toes and sultry, burnt siena nails. Long, sharp as their avian curves cut razoring angles amidst forzen thrashing snow. Before long, violet gaze encrusted with specs of gold and orange came to fall upon a distant silhouette. Inhaling, her chest raising with the deep, life-giving breath; her scent, she could almost taste it if it weren't for the snow and its chilly breaze. Definitely female, that is as much as she could tell. The woman curiosity was peaqued once again, with nothing to lose she rotated her reptilian bodice and sinisterly loamed towards the creature. As the Egyptian Goddess descends towards the mortal she seemed eerie, her graceful posture, one could swear she was floating; wretchedly divine was Nephthys, borne of hell and seductive rapture. Her tail remained curled upon her slender, feline spine. Her pheromones were not in full swing, it was odd but her heat seemed to have stopped earlier yet she still emitted and air of power, dominance and strenght, one that demanded respect; she was one that was seen. Speech

Yup this was hopeless. Here she was the only wolf who couldn't track or find her way out of a bunch of trees. She was definitely not one you wanted to send on a search party, nope she was the one who was always in need of a search party. This was her personal hell. Well if you didn't count the whole slavery thing.

Her head lifted as another stepped into view. Only once she noticed everything her ears fell back and she dropped her eyes. She definitely saw the domination immediately and she wasn't about to challenge that. nope too many scars were already on her body as a reminder of that. She really hoped she wasn't noticed but she knew better. The fae had seen the other looking directly at her. Yep this definitely wasn't just going to go away. She dared not look at the other, her head even turned to the side to look at the ground beside her.

Her pace slowed until it became a lazy walk, closing the distance between them and only when tw two women were seven tails apart from one another did the Egyptian Goddess halt. The other woman next actions didn't surprised her, instead they brought life to her hellish lips. Hmm, make the bitch submit, she cooed darkly from where she was. Glowering smirk burned into her features, reaching her very core. She always like a little entertainment. Oh, don't mind me, mortal. I never pass up a good show. she coed, hissed darkly and low in her throat, melodious and heavy words escaped her ebon lips. Violet gaze encrusted with gold folowed the figure, measuring her size, taking in her muscles yet one could not help but to linger more upon the ugly, deep, ghoulish scars the woman had on her. You have quite a few marks. she questioned, pointing her crown at the whole lot of scars scattered across the soft tissues. A curious case, was she not. The witch sat on her haunches with a sway of her feminine, curvaceous hips; registering the woman, inhaling her perfume and deciding what shall she do with her new discovered toy. Speech

Her ears couldn't press any further back if she tried. The other spoke and it sounded more like a beratement than anything. She really wished she wasn't so alone right now, if Rhyme was her maybe she would be okay. Even Vladimir would of been a welcome sight. She didn't handle anger from others well. Her head tilted and she did her best to not look at the woman. At least the last dominant figure she had seen in these lands had backed off when he realized what he was doing to her comfort levels.

She kept her scarred lips closed to try to appease this woman. She had no clue why she was so angry either. Then she commented about Eulogy's scars and she wasn't sure she wanted to answer. But a good slave always answered and did as they were told. "From my training.... my masters wanted me to know what my job was and how to serve best...." She was no more than a breeding bitch, though if she found Rhythm and Rhyme that might change. Obviously if they asked what she wanted to learn it was more or less politics and to hunt, though she wasn't sure her nose even worked. She wasn't even thinking that if she didn't find them fast someone might take her prisoner and use her for anything they wanted.

She was off to the wrong foot from the start, she presented herself with such submissive mannerism, would not even met the Egyptian Goddess gaze. She feed off of this, indulging her character into the elements that were set up. She always did whatever the fuck she wanted whenever the fuck she wanted. A light mocking frown crossed her beautiful visage, creating visible wrinkles to her forehead. The witch narrowed her violet optics at her slightly, assessing her aspects once again and everything in between. It was rare for her to meet such sublime specimen of absolute submission. Sinister amusement came into play as her ears caught the sounds of her soft voice. She was rambling on about masters and jobs and training. What this woman a slaver? Oh, she really was. Well this was a twist usually she wasn't one to care for slaves but maybe this particular damsel will be of aid to cure her boredom and her headache from last night socialization. She rose to her full height, over-looking over the woman with at least, if not more, than 6 inches. Mile-lon limbs, slender, graceful in their movement, rocked forward, debating if action would be taken or if she shall idly wait for another moment for her scene to be absolutely perfect. Devious mind began to wonder what was to be done in this case. Eyes showed a hint of the dark that lingered behind in her mind. Feline qualities painted her graceful movements, her shoulder blades rolled backwards as her mannerism was that of royalty, regality at its finest. A purr came to a boil. They did not take theirs seriously if you are roaming free of them. hisses went forth from her succulent, ebon lips. Venom was lurking beneath the surface until she knew exactly how to handle this particular situation. A single brow was arched in question and once again, curiosity, as she was now 4 tails apart from the woman, getting closer and closer with each divine step. Where are they now? Your masters? Her words were teasing, but her tone was grave, falling heavily from foreign-kissed lips, her egyptian accent wrapping around each word, each careful spilled syllable that rolled from plush, humid tongue. The witch inhaled her perfume deeply into her lungs, tasting it, she certainly scented something familiar about her, something masculine that she had inhaled before but she could not put her claw on it at this distance. But nothing else, perhaps that particular masculine cologne was this master? Beating someone into submission is so raw and primitive. words rolled from her tongue, escaping her pretty maw yet she was still coming hot, closing the distance even further, leaving only 2 tail lenghts between the two of them now, before she lessened her pace. Speech

The woman kept coming closer and eulogy kept shrinking back into herself. She really wasn't sure what this woman wanted, just that she could see her paws coming closer and closer. Her head couldn't lower anymore by the time the woman got closer. Her eyes closed and she leaned away. She expected pain honestly. Her body was leaning away on her side. She was submitting without needing a real reason to. Where were they? "Far east." she didn't want to go back though. Toxic would see to it she was bred and that her body was used for pups, even if it cost her her life.

She only knew pain and her place as being under others, both metaphorically and realistically. She chanced cracking open her eye and she finally caught sight of something that made this woman make less sense to her. Though it also made her make more sense. She wanted to breed possibly. She wasn't absolutely sure though so while she wanted to move she also didn't.

What a peculiar creature she was but if what she told her was true than it was not much of a surprise she acted and hold herself in such manner. Did she find her intimidating? Did she thought she was going to be attacked and maimed by the witch right this instand? Such thoughts amused the witch and she found a throaty purr rumbling from the pit of her throat as she allowed her twisted imagination to get the better part of her devious mind. She was pulled back into reality as the slave vocalizations graced the air to answer the witch question, which one she did not know yet it caused the smirk that consumed her acutely beautiful, exotic visage to elongate. She did not know what the mini expression that flashed the slave femme visage was nor what caused it but she wanted to see more. She wanted to play more and dissect her mind to find even more weaknesses under it. She wanted to pry inside of her for her own amusament. The witch manuvered easily about her scarred form, that surprisingly still hold her feminine beauty, with a sensual swagger, if allowed without interuptions her right shoulder would graze along the curvature of her scarred, brown physique without pressing too tightly against her, her touch barely lingering in a teasing manner. Once she had completed a semi-circle around the femme, she would halt at her side, the gap between them almost nonexistent. Are you running away from them, little one? she would hiss smoothly, a devious smirk that wouldput even the devil to shame landed upon her chiseled features. After a moment longer, the witch would break free, wondering back to face the woman with a victorious gleam to her violet eyes. This was all a game to her, entertainment to pass the time but maybe, just maybe, it will be proven fruitful. Speech