She fled the pack, and used Lioness to help her do so. Knowing any who saw the cat would believe she was following after her mistress. But not this time. This time Kite was alone as she made her way into the approaching night. Pain jostled her every step, and she pressed her teeth together so tightly she almost got her tongue more than once. But she was accustomed to pain, it had been her companion from the moment she was born.

She believed she had lost her siblings by the time she dragged herself to the wall. She didn’t stop until she could put her back to a stone pillar, and know the Armada was behind her. Safe. She had made it. She breathed slowly, breathing past the pain, and the memory of her loss. Basilisk was a towering giant, but he was also slow, and an idiot. She had believed… and she had believed wrong. She wasn’t strong enough. She would have to get stronger, and by the time she faced him again, she would be strong enough to win. The Armada and its wolves would be hers.


"Speech"

Ah, dear little runaway, how she amused the God with her desperate effort to escape. Escape what? He does not know. But he does watch. Drawn in by the scent so alluring to his nares, it beckons him to complete the puzzle forming in his mind. A female, blood, the sweet smell of her sweat - stricken with pain and anger. The Ivory Prince could practically taste her on his tongue. His senses were attuned to her trail like it was a life line, perfect framework following with grace and precision.

And when he saw her. Oh when he finally laid eyes on that figure, he was taken with the way she reminded him of the night sky, blue and black; cream painted with sapphire. He watched from the shadows, a phantom of stealth as his molten orbs observe her every trip and lurch. He imagined her musculature writhing instead of the steady ripple she observed as she continued moving.

She stumbles through the night, each step a testament to her stubbornness, her will to continue on. He cannot know what brought her to him, why such a striking creature is enduring the torment she is. Pain is etched upon that pale face, yet she presses on, leg broken and dragging as she goes. He was never far behind, biding his time as his insatiable curiosity urged him to know her.

As she leans against that cold stone wall, he cannot help but smile at her quick relieved breaths. Night has long fallen, and he had gathered that she might’ve been in need of a companion. So he revealed himself, easily cutting a path straight to her. The God had fixed an expression over his delightful visage, one that told of secrets she couldn’t possibly know. And when he spoke, pristine bodice coming within a few feet of her, his voice rang out like a lure; an enchantment. "Ah, my dear," Setekh purred, his voice dripping with charm. "Who dares to mar such beauty with a cruel wound?" The God purred, testing the waters of her boundaries, subtly edging closer under the guise of analyzing her leg. What a sorry thing, this pretty pretty girl. Broken, broken, but who has given her such a token? He flicked his volcanic gaze up to her own, the colors of fire swirling and swirling, hints of madness there, obsession. It was then he saw her eyes fully, like two jewels staring back at him. “Oh, how divine.” Her luck is unkind! The words fell from his maw like a prayer, a mumble as he failed to rip his gaze away from the trinkets she beheld the world with.

"He Speaks" | 'He Thinks' | The Madness

A voice startled her, and she responded with bared fangs. Rising slightly as she found his pale form in the dark. Her lips peeled back from sharp silver fangs, and her eyes… there was just enough moonlight to spark across the crystals encasing them. In return, they burned with an ethereal glow just shy of causing her pain. 

Hey bared fangs lessened a little when she realised he was a stranger. He was not family come to avenge her idiot nephew, or misguided siblings come to redeem her. None of this meant she trusted him.

“Come a little closer and I'll gift you a mar of your own” She promised him, holding his gaze as the threat rolled off her tongue. Injured and alone, without even Lioness as back up, and she still wouldn't give him an inch. 


"Speech"

Setekh's lips curled into a smirk as the girl's bared fangs gleamed in the moonlight, her eyes aglow with a chilling yet wondrous light. He found her defiance exhilarating, her unyielding spirit in the face of adversity intoxicating, especially considering her broken leg. "Such fire," Setekh remarked, his tone tinged with amusement. Fire, fire! A thing to admire! He savored her wariness, her reluctance to trust his companionship, finding it all the more intriguing. "A mar of my own, you say? I'd quite like that. I am no stranger to anguish." His chuckle echoed softly, the threat in her words adding to her allure to him.

Despite her injuries, she remained steadfast, refusing to give ground. Setekh admired her resilience, her refusal to submit, it only fed his fixation on her at this moment. "My dear," He replied, his voice silky smooth as he attempted to ease the tension in the air, "I am but a curious wanderer, you've no reason to believe I wish you ill." Stepping closer, he locked eyes with her, a silent challenge hanging in the air. Surrounding, surrounding, heart pounding! But then Setekh's smirk softened into a sly grin as he observed her. Beneath the facade of charm and intrigue, a flicker of genuine interest sparked within him. Despite her mistrust, he sensed a vulnerability lurking beneath her fierce exterior, a vulnerability he was all too familiar with. It was his usual target, sweet insecurity.

"Eyes like jewels," Setekh began, his voice now laced with a hint of false concern, "Why do you struggle? It seems you're in need of assistance, and if you had anyone to turn to, they would be here for you now in your hour of need." With a graceful step forward, he closed the distance between them, his gaze unwavering as he met hers. He hovered over her, carefully analyzing the extent of her injury. It would have to be set, and bound. There would be worry of infection as well, and she would be forced to be bedridden more often than not. "Allow me to offer you my aid," He continued, his words dripping with sincerity, "I have some knowledge of healing. One of many skills I possess." Setekh extended a paw towards her, a silent offering of support. "Take my hand," Take it, take it! She does not know what is at stake! He urged, obsession tinging the core of his molten orbs as he gazed down at her prone form, "I’ll guide you somewhere safe." In the depths of the night, Setekh stood poised on the edge of uncertainty, testing the girl's resolve in a delicate dance of danger and wonder. And the God did so love to play with fire.

"He Speaks" | 'He Thinks' | The Madness

After the challenge of leadership in the Armada, Kite had fled from home on a broken leg with a large, bruised ego. Andy had wanted to chase after her right away but the lavender woman had lingered behind to try and sooth others while also showing Bas her support. It took some time before she able to slip away and give chase and Lioness tried her best to throw the concerned woman off of her sister’s scent but Andy would not be so easily fooled. Underneath the canopy of trees, she races to find her injured sibling, intent on trying to bring her back home so that she might recover.

A man’s voice, not too far has her quietly skidding to a stop, form still hidden from sight by the shadows of the trees as the wind working with her to keep her scent from the pair. Silently, she moves closer so that can watch as a pale man slithers into view, his words too honeyed and laced with charm for Andromeda’s liking. Yet, she hangs back, not wishing for Kite to take her suddenly appearance as a sign that she was weak and in need of help. Against her better judgement, she stayed hidden in the tree-line observing the pair talk as alarm slowly begins to build.

Something is off about the stranger but Andy does not rush in, favoring the slow approach in the hopes of gathering information while she can. Should the man try to attack Kite, Andy would rush in, breaking from her hiding place to leap forward and help her injured sister… should she need it. For now, she waits, hidden by shadows and obscured by the thick gnarled roots that raise from the ground around her. Keen pale blue eyes never leaving them as she silently watches, ready for anything.


"Andromeda Fatalis"

Kite had tried for so long to be the good little girl her family needed. She had taken Azure’s abuse, she had taken Andy’s rise to power. Basilisk was a road too far, and she had taken a stance. Now that she had let out all that hurt and anger and burning rage she had no desire to wrap it back up into a neat little bundle in her heart. It was free now, and there was no turning back. If this white wolf pushed her, she would show him exactly what that anger looked like.

That she was leaning against a wall, her broken leg going numb in the cool night air was no matter. She would fight, even if it killed her. Her snarl only became a little more pronounced as he so easily accepted her threat without fear. Did he think so little of her, like the useless family she had left behind?

“Every move a wolf takes is for their own gain. Ill-wishing or not” She growled at him, watching as he took a step closer. She felt like a coiled snake, waiting for him to enter her striking range. “I’m not here because I'm alone” she spat at him like a puffed up cat. “I’m here because I’ve shaken them off, like useless excess in my fur.” She straightened a little, the effect likely marred by the war her skin turned white and waxy. Her leg was in agony at this point, a burning fire crawling up her skin. “I, Princess Kyanite, do not need your aid.” But she paused then, a scent catching in the air. Was that one of her family? Were they closing in on her? She alerted, tilting her head as she listened for any sign or scent to confirm it. Nothing. All the same, she looked at that paw. That faint brush of scent decided her. “I don’t care about safe, only away. My family are like burrs, not easy to get rid of.” She growled, and thrust out a forepaw, touching it to his white one. She didn’t need to trust him to use him.

"Speech"

Setekh's molten gaze fixated on her, observing the turmoil of emotions swirling within her, a tempest of volatile feelings unleashed upon him. He craved more, an insatiable hunger burning within him until his very flesh seared off his bones. Her rage, a blaze of blue, the most potent kind, both intrigued and called to him. He savored the challenge she presented, the raw power of her vengeful spirit pulsating between them. Delicious. Sweet vulnerability.

As she spat venomous words tinted with bitterness, Setekh remained unruffled, his smirk unwavering. "You speak the truth, my dear. We wolves are indeed a selfish breed," The Ivory Prince conceded, his voice a deep melodic rumble. He watched her, his gaze steady, as she bristled with defiance, her snarl igniting something within him. Yet, caution whispered in his mind. Beckoning, beckoning him! Begging for a reckoning! A reckoning!

"I extend my aid not from pity, but from mutual gain," Setekh explained, his words deliberate and measured. "Trust is not a prerequisite for utilizing someone, is it?" He added, his voice smooth as velvet, eyes gleaming with certainty. Her pride, hungry for validation, danced in her gaze — something he meant to take explicit advantage of. Use. Use. Only to abuse? What a ruse!

As she wavered, torn between distrust and the lingering memory of her pursuers, Setekh reached out his paw, a gesture of solidarity. With a flicker of hesitation, her paw met his own, a reluctant connection that sparked excitement within him that crawled up his spine with a shiver of satisfaction. In her touch, Setekh felt his mind whirl, a binding thread woven into his beautiful psyche as he stared into her gem-like eyes, unblinking.

"Then I shall take you away like you so desire," Setekh murmured, his voice laced with quiet, obsessive fascination. "Until the day you decide to cast me aside like another useless burr, hmm? Does that prospect entice you, Princess Kyanite? Though I cannot guarantee that day will ever come." With ease, the Ivory God lifted her to her feet, offering his shoulder for support. But what will come? What will become of this darling crumb?

"speaking" | voices

Anger would only get Kite so far, she knew that once it cooled she would crash. The only thing keeping her upright was the blinding strength of her emotions. She needed to keep going, keep moving. Get out of here before her family found her. She wasn’t ready for that confrontation.

She flashed her teeth at the white wolf again as his words sunk in. He didn’t pity her, he wanted to use her. “Promises, promises.” she teased him. She felt nothing for him, and using him would be so much easier than dealing with her family. Her mind was made up, she knew she wouldn’t get out of here without his help.

She put her paw in his, determined to believe she would be strong enough to fight him off if he meant her ill. Broken leg, and half-blind eyes, she never did learn her limits. “Well see how useful you are.” She told him carelessly, letting him pull her upright, and leaning on his shoulder. As she moved her back leg, pain flashed through her. Sudden, sharp, and brutal. She let out a small noise, and hated herself for it. She turned her head into the shoulder he had offered her to lean on. Opening her maw, she sank her teeth into his flesh. Biting down as she sought to ride the pain that riddled her body. It wasn't a truly scarring bite, almost a love bite. If it could be called such a thing.

"Speech"

Her defiance was a tangible thing, a barrier she brandished against the world, there were not many so strongly suited to life. Setekh could only speculate about the family she fled from, and what cruel purpose drove them to fracture her limb. Familiar with the intricate dynamics of family, he was eager to sate his growing curiosity about the girl's motives and history. He sensed her astuteness, her ability to decipher his true intentions, but to what extent? Surely she couldn't fathom the depths of his deeds, the sins, the atrocities... yet perhaps she would find pleasure in his recounting of tales.

"Promises, promises," She teased, her words dripping with sarcasm. Oh, the allure of her writhing form, how it tempted him to make his imaginings come to fruition. He envisioned how her willful visage could transform into something more... enticing. But did he crave that? Her beauty was captivating as it stood. She embodied haughty instincts, driven by her impulses.

As their paws met, a silent pact formed between them. To use and be used. She believed she could fend him off, yet Setekh knew he held the advantage. With her broken limb, she posed no threat, yet she refused to show weakness. In her defiant mind, she likely deemed herself far more capable than reality permitted... or perhaps she was his harbinger of demise. His angel of death. Internally, Setekh erupted in laughter, his lips curving into a winning smile outwardly.

"We'll see how useful you are," Oh forgive her! My God, forgive this lamb! Do not lay her upon a slab! She remarked casually, yielding to his support as she rose from the ground. But as she shifted her injured leg, a sharp whine of pain escaped her lips. And then, without warning, she turned her head and sank her teeth into his flesh, a gesture both fierce and intimate. Setekh winced at the sensation, feeling the sharp sting of her bite and letting his own groan escape him, but he made no move to stop her. He allowed her to seek solace in her own way, finding his own depraved pleasure in her bite, his face alight with ecstasy as his molten gaze swirled affectionately.

When she finally released him, Setekh was forced to find his voice, and when he did it was brimming with satisfaction. "Come now, Princess Kyanite." Come, come, and be undone! He murmured, his tone positively delighted. And with that, he guided her away, shouldering her burden as his own. His shoulder remained within her reach as an offering in case she needed to relieve her pain again.

[Exit?]

"speaking" | voices

From the shadows, Andy watches, her heart slowly breaking with each hated-filled word Kite spits out into the air. How had she missed the signs that her once dearest sister now detests her very existence? Tears spring up in her pale blue eyes as she watches her sister willingly sign away her life to this stranger, eager to be free of her and her family. Teeth dig into her lip as they flick to the man, listening to his honeyed words that are carefully picked as they promise Kite everything she wants. Part of her knows that she losing her sister but the other part realizes that she had lost her a long time ago.

Tear silently fall in the shadows of the trees as Andy yearns to run forward and break up the meeting, to drag Kite back home where she belongs… but the young woman holds herself in check. This is what her sibling wants and, as much as wants to selfishly drag her away, the lavender woman knows she cannot stop what her angry sister is about to do. It would only serve to make her hate Andy even more. Without a word, she slips away, leaving Kite to her fate with the pale man, while she takes those hate-fueled words and holds them close to her heart.

Paws pick up pace until she running, running from the pain and anger that surges inside her chest like ocean water against a breaker. The tears fall, blurring her vision as Andy runs, not knowing where she going but knowing that she has to cry and scream until her eyes sting and her voice is raw. Silently, she bids farewell to Kite and any future the siblings might have had together.



-exit Andromeda-


"Andromeda Fatalis"