•••words|are|[worthless]__Rose, ,

[Natsumi Sayuri]

+ NATSUMI SAYURI +
•••CALL ME RIN•••


My beautiful liar why are you crying on your knees?
You've crucified yourself and now denial is rising...rising...

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It was coming, the tide, the darkness, but not the ubiquitous black of her truest nightmares. This one was familiar, a stalking creature of moonlight, a black smear of sin come calling, come licking up the line of her neck. She shivered, and didn't know it; goosebumps rose up along her skin. Numbness was her existence right now, yes, now, this cold, frigid sea of loneliness which gaped open before her. Night fell hard and black, an insidious call that wrapped around her throat and pushed liquid down her throat -- yes, she was drowning, as at that time, drowning as she had always drowned. In the need, the want, the wanton, sexual desire to finish what had already begun -- what had begun long before she was even born. To shift, to break free.

There was an animal inside of her and it was only partly the Wolf. It was the demon of insatiable greed, the lust, the gluttony as she pulled that succulent hit closer to her lips, as she inhaled deep of this sin, this shame, took a metaphysical delight as she was torn asunder. Again, and again, a victim of rape that enjoyed the hard thrusting, the vulnerability ripped away as her individualism was lost. No power here of her own, just a terrible submission that thrummed deeper than the bones.

It was coming, yes, in silence -- no calls, no growling. The Wolf was silent. The Wolf was absolute. She came like poison, slipping into the very fabric of her dreams, roused the girl to waking with every hot breath on her neck, on her ears, rousing the heart, the spirit, the very mind. She dreamt of blackness, the forbidden temptation kissing along her skin, urging her to open up to this evil, this shame, to let it slide over her body with warm hands. Nothing of love, but brutal lust sensitizing her skin to such rough play. It came with claiming in mind, with ownership -- the Wolf was coming, slowly, slowly, a tantalizing dance that rattled the very foundations of Rin's desires, fanning the flames, the yearnings, the wants.

She lost herself in it, suffocating on dreams of fiction, fantasy, reaching out and burrowing her fingers in softest of furs, rubbing her face against the tantalizing scent of deep musk, wolf musk. She dreamt of pitiless eyes, dreamt of hot tongues and sweat. The hunt was on it's way, claiming her more forcefully than anything she had ever felt -- eyes snapping open in the dark, feeling every part of herself tensed and knotted, Rin stilled, a thin sheen of sweat beading it's way down the delicate slope of her brow and cheeks, finding a nestled home along the curves of her neck and shoulders. Sheets damp from her struggles, from her flight from god-knows-what -- but she knows, oh, don't discredit her, she knows, and hates it! --- Rin finds truth in the trepidation of her heart, in the sweat-logged locks of her black hair, in the clenched fingers roped in the very sheets she would seek to throw away.

Yet this wasn't a night for rejections or refusals -- this was a night for dancing, for singing, for breaking free the binds, for letting loose this terrible skin, this tight skin, this alien skin. It isn't right -- and the voice pulses in her blood, an intimacy unknown to those outside of her race; the beast isn't lurking, the beast is moving, dancing circles around her, taunting her, nipping at her -- she feels her senses heightening, feels as if she is too tight for this skin, for these clothes, for this life.

The Wolf nearly purrs in it's delight as it rubs itself against Rin, as it coaxes and cajoles, sweetening the run, sweetening the very need that has always plagued her. Yes, it's time, it's time. Again, so soon? But still the thoughts are finally, finally. Let's leave again, let's fly again, let's run again -- run until the ground can no longer hold us down, until our paws are bleeding, until our hearts have transcended this pain. Let us outrun it all --- and Rin, reckless, foolish Rin cannot stop the emotions from overpowering her, from glittering wickedly in her black gaze, from moving her body in silence -- pushing away the sheets and leaving the room, leaving her world behind to exist in this one: the one in her heart, where Wolf is inescapable, where Wolf is Goddess and Sanctuary.

Yes, Goddess, yes -- the girl is in your palm now, you devilish thing, strung along by the sheer inebriation of your power. So she runs, bolting through the door on silent, socked feet, her body almost shifting, almost changing, move, move, move and the girl is nearly flying, held to the tune that screamed out of her head. Let us be free!

Gods, yes, yes, this drug, this hit, this shameful, beautiful, perfect thing! She gives in as she has always given in, following the current of strength, leaving behind the shell of the vulnerable. She is indomitable, she is Wolf, she is free -- and the clothes are being ripped off of her body as she struggles with buttons, with elastic bands that catch on her arms and her legs. Away, away, away! and she fumbles and curses, too eager for the hit, too eager for the drug of redemption, for the pain that comes to haunt her, reprimand her, remind her. Yes, let's not forget the hunger, the coiling knot of feral madness -- and the Wolf lunges forward into her mind, tearing through flesh more poignantly than she had through the clothes, leaving the shorts, the panties and the tank top lying scattered. The tempest has come, the orgasm of release shuddering through her body as arms retract, as body contorts -- agony, agony, yes! -- and she is finally struggling free of skin and bone. Fur curves over her body as black as the eye, as black as the night -- and the creature of shadow, the creature of moonlit dalliances is running, dashing into the forests of her retreat, into the world where she could bury her nose so far into the stench of earth rot she could forget the crashing waters of her oceanic prison.

So she runs, runs, savage and snarling, her fangs glittering in the night as her face wrinkles in this primal rage to be free. No one can tie down the Wolf! No one, not even the girl who the Wolf holds as precious as pack mates. They fill the night with their voices, howling up at the moonless night, slaking their insatiable glut with the vicious victory of sound, with the tenacity of spirit that becomes this ethereal, feral -- but still so physical, so visceral! -- wolf woman come to destroy the very thing she cherishes most. The Wolf is here, yes, yes -- and the girl watches from behind her eyes, gleeful and delighted, full of adrenaline and exhilaration.

This was freedom; this is what life feels like running through her veins.

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word count;; 1190
tags;; Rose ^-^
OOC;; skidoosh -!

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[Rose Graham]

The night sky was so dark it was black, and the stars were the only thing that had enough courage to break through it. The moon was hidden somewhere that Rose couldn't see, but it's light bathed everything in the softest glow, it was almost moving. Even though it was awhile past midnight, Rose sat balanced on the windowsill of her room, her knees brought up and tucked under her chin. Her eyes were half closed as she looked out the window, but she had never been more alert in her life. Seeing the smallest movement to hearing every breath her roommates stole from the atmosphere. Though the world all around her was silent, sleeping, the world inside her was pure turmoil.

The day had started off fine, and school had gone fine, and it wasn't until she had gotten a letter from her father. The letter that brought her news of her mother acquiring cancer in the past week. Rose was tempted to run home right then and there, but she realized there was nothing she could do. And she put on her calm mask, took a deep breath, and the world was right again. At least, she kept telling herself to believe that. Nothing inside her would believe it. The pit of her stomach never stopped throbbing, and she hadn't been able to sleep. No tired feeling even entered her brain, only feelings of anger, and worry.

Rose came back to the present to realize her breath was quickening. There was a throbbing feeling in a place near her heart. The world outside dulled, and then it slammed into her, so hard she had to grab the windowsill, so as to not fall off.

Never had she felt it this strong, except the first time. There was a place in her chest, right behind her heart, where nothing sat, nothing touched. It was an empty hole within herself, only to be filled with a fire so intense, so consuming, so unwilling to bow down to anything. Rose knew what would happen next. It would grasp her heart, with intentions to release the danger, the evil spirit within her, to just make her let go of everything and just . . . forget that she had anything to do with the human world around her, forget that she even had worries. It was so strong, Rose had to cover her mouth to not scream. She had to get out of here.

Not caring about making noise, she ran across the room and flung the door open, not even remembering flying out of the dorms and across the grass, not even thinking as she ran to the only place that would comfort both her and this fire within her: the trees. Rose was stumbling. The fire was spreading, numbing every human sense she had ever relied on. When a joint popped in her knee, ripping through her pants, she realized she had to get out, get out of her clothes. She had barely enough time before she was forced on all fours and, within a second, the animal emerged.

The world came into sharp focus. The every tree became individual, every leaf standing out. A feeling in Rose comforted her, and she wondered why she ever wanted to be human. Why did she want to avoid this amazing feeling, this power, the fierce intensity that flowed through her body every second. Prowling deep into the forest, they (for this was not just Rose, it was another presence inside her also there) enjoyed. Just enjoyed. The sharp eyes closed, the fur covered chest taking a deep breath of crisp forest air--and stopped. The eyes flew open, and they automatically fell into a defensive position--pressure on back feet, muscles contracted, lips pulled back to show the sharp teeth, eyes narrowed in anger. There was another presence in the forest. Not only just another being, another wolf. And not just a wolf, a shifter wolf. The strong scent of animal was intertwined with the faint sent of a human. They let out a low growl, almost a warning.

[Natsumi Sayuri]

+ NATSUMI SAYURI +
•••CALL ME RIN•••


My beautiful liar why are you crying on your knees?
You've crucified yourself and now denial is rising...rising...

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Freedom pulsed in her veins, fire maddened her heart to racing as she thrust herself through the very forest; she claimed it with each touch of her paws on the ground, with each powerful, throaty howl that flung itself into the night sky. Trees swayed with the gentle caress of wind, but she was the focus, she was the monster come to call. Tempest, we've named her, violence her passion, blood her desire -- she runs because she has no where to go, caught in a treadmill cage where doctors with coats poke and judge her. Caught beneath the stares of teachers, of students who do not know her. They think they know, these terrible men and women, these adults so slick and sly, with their vile lies, their false faces, false scents.

They lied with their body, their smiles reminiscent of snarls and fangs, of threats and laughter. Mockery never tasted so sweet as the rattling stench of their perfume on her skin, their voices clogging up her ears. She couldn't hear, couldn't hear! They were talking too loud, and the Wolf just wanted to be free. The girl just wanted to be free; staring out the window, wishing she was there --- but now, she's here, and the dance has only begun, their steps taken in communion, a partnership deeper, more intimate than lovers as fingers reach out for fur, as they entangle their laughter and their rage, as they sink into each other's consciousness. No longer the they, but the we, no longer separate but together for this one mystifying descent into madness. The blood is pounding in her ears -- black ears flick down against her skull, flat and trembling with the onslaught of exhilaration, with a gleeful insanity that tenses out the muscles of her jaw.

Fangs flash in the darkness, like a slash of lightning lighting up the world before disappearing in a void of black; her fur the color of sin, of ashes spread on tawny white skin: harbinger, madness, there is a viciousness in her soul that is crying out in two voices, one voice, intertwining around their hearts, constricting their lungs.

They run, because they must. They run because they must live, and live well -- and death is looming behind them, seen in every dusty corner of their shared dormitory, in every polite smile, every splintered word. It was gone, gone, gone, the mountains, the pack, the family, and so the Wolf strikes out on her own. If they are to be exiled, then they will carve out a place for themselves in the trash. They will submit to their label, become trash, so tarnished and filthy, scum lingering in between the crevices of tooth and tongue. Let them rot, then, if it will mean their freedom, if it would mean an unending dream, uninterrupted and blissful. Let it be filled with thoughts of hot blood and metal, with rivers that crash violently in her hear, of winters so cold they sink further than bone. Let them remember the wastelands of their home, the smiles etched in a memory that is slowly forgetting them, forgetting the scent they had grown so used to -- the scent that was their own.

Sky and ground clash so far in the distance, meeting that silver lining they could never wrestle free in their jaws -- it existed merely to taunt them, but it was okay, for it was a goal, and the girl needed a goal, a thing to yearn for, a thing for be human for. Running, they were spawned anew: creatures of shadow, exhilarating in the run more fiercely than any other creature. They owned the land they claimed, raised themselves up to be Kings and Queens, never to back down. Let this be home! and their voices are entwined, loud and shimmering in their heads, reverberating against the walls of their skull. Mine, mine, mine, the Wolf is insatiable, the chant running through her heart and into the girl's. She becomes possessive because the Wolf is so, and so the circles continues, one life form feeding off of another, a companionship and camaraderie based on a parasitic blemish in her chromosomes.

Why her? -- but it doesn't matter, for tonight is not a night for lamenting. Tonight is for strength, for gathering the courage and the will to succeed where others would push them down. And so the tale is unraveling, the emotions uncoiling from their heart, devouring their logic, their sanity, their calm -- steadiness breaks away into fractured prisms of foolishness, of a hunger that is soul-deep and untouchable. Excitement is their motivation, ownership their call; they come, because they've been called, running as their claws dig deep into the earth. Mine, mine, mine, their jaws snap, their pitiless eyes gleam wickedly with the conviction of their need.

It doesn't matter when they caught the scent -- where they heard the sound. It all blurs together, time flying away from their minds and hiding somewhere in the future when the Girl will awake with the soul tucked safely away in her subconscious. But the black wolf is running, her tail raised high, aggressive and needy -- ears flicking up at the sound, heart rushing forward with hot, fiery anger.

Rage slithers through her, feeding the fires, white-hot and branding as she crashes through the underbrush, callously looking over the female, the crassness of her stench offensive and terrible. Another wolf? Invader. Protect the pack, protect the land -- and she is receding, this little girl, this gleeful, wicked little girl. The wolf is smiling, smiling, flashing fangs as her voice bursts out from between her lips, snarling rage, face twisted in a depiction of feral hunger. The growl thunders out, snarl snapping at the ends as tail lashes, hackles bristle.

She is no big bad wolf in terms of size, but the size is unimportant when fangs are sharp, when minds are clouded by the visceral need to drive out the invader, drive out the enemy. Outsider, she snarls, her eyes hard and gleaming with malice -- tick, tick, tick of her heart hammering -- no, thrashing -- about in her chest, coursing blood, precious blood. She steps one way, swings around, paces the other way. Restless, untouchable, uncontainable, this need to move, to act swiftly; another snarl as wrinkles pulls back the slender beauty of that wildness, makes it into something monstrous -- fangs gleaming between black fur and blackened gums, white and atrocious as the snarl rips out of her very heart. She launches herself, power coiled in her hind legs as she pushes herself forward toward the intruder, hackles raised, tensed, claws sharp where they parted her toes. Mine, mine! -- and she reaches to sink her fangs into flesh, finally, finally -- no more running, no more hiding.

Finally action, finally something that bleeds red, bleeds blood. Finally, something that dies.

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word count;; 1159
tags;; Rose ;3
OOC;; heh, my muse like you >.>' Sorry it's about the same length as the other one.

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[Rose Graham]

The forest was alive all around. Little insects chirping, the soft crackle of bushes as night predators stalked their prey. Underground, there must have been hundreds of little animals curled up in nights slumber. Overhead an owl called softly into the night, the took off in soundless flight. The forest was still full of life during the night as it was during the day. But the gray wolf, tensed in the middle of the forest, noticed none of it.

It was coming. The adrenaline pulsing through the wolf's body was focusing on one thing: the other wolf. Sharp claws were flexing in the soft soil, one word was flashing in the brain: threat. They had no pack, no family to protect, nobody to protect but themselves--but that was enough. This lone wolf only cared for itself.

Then it appeared. The other wolf. A wolf as dark as the night they were standing in, with bright wild eyes. It was already poised to fight, something not surprising. A wolf's first instinct upon coming another wolf was to kill the threat. Both of them felt it. No human feeling was shoving it's way to the front right now. Blockading anything else but protect--destroy. Another low growl rolled between the wolf's teeth.

Within a second of it's appearance, the black wolf lunged. It was aimed for the throat, but with a movement at the last second, only came in contact with the shoulder, biting down hard. The other wolf, the Rose wolf, let out a loud howl into the night. All sane thoughts, any sensible thoughts, fled. It was now a fight. Trying to twist out of the deathly grip was worthless. Reaching around blindly with one paw, the gray wolf found contact with the other wolf and raked its claws in in its side. It gave time to get out of it's grip, and the gray wolf quickly did just that. It quickly jumped a few feet away, but turned around just as fast. Never turn your back on an enemy.

This is madness! Rose, the human Rose, screamed from somewhere in the back of the brain. She was banging on the cage she had been confined to, insisting, begging, pleading to be let out and stop this insanity, this worthless mess that would end badly for both of them. What was worse, she knew it would end bad for her and her wolf. It was obvious they were no match for this wolf and it's wild eyes. But nothing would listen to the worthless girl and eventually it was exhausted, slumping and giving up the the wolf, only seconds before the black wolf lunged again.

[Natsumi Sayuri]

+ NATSUMI SAYURI +
•••CALL ME RIN•••


My beautiful liar why are you crying on your knees?
You've crucified yourself and now denial is rising...rising...

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There was a call in her blood, ancient and primal, bypassing thought, superseding emotion -- it was a knowledge, a call as vicious as her fangs flashing in the night, as terrible as the onslaught of her snaps and snarls. She was a beast, no longer thinking, thoughts gone, gone -- away from the plural complexity of humanity. They dove headlong into instinct as ancient as time, as feral as the very ground they were standing. The universe never lost track of it's monsters, never lost track of it's most cunning creatures, and in this angry, wrathful display, the truth of nature -- her most's splendid face! -- was exposed. There was nothing kind in the forest, nothing tender, just the survival, the blunt need to push your rivals out of the way, to let them be eaten by Nature's call, by Nature's insatiable appetite.

Death came in silence, slipping beneath the Wolf's feet; she was his weapon, beautiful and terrible, repulsive and magnetic. In the trembling of her jaws, in the slip of her ears, in the hackles that raised themselves to stiffened spikes there was an energy as pure as love, as sharp as hate, and all consuming as jealousy. She was the epitome of Nature, the very life-like effigy cast in bone and fur. With blood calling to her tongue, with a sweet sound of pain in her ears she was called: she came, with force, with brutality, her maddened eyes exposing nothing human.

Rin did nothing by halves -- caught in the current of the Wolf, she tangled her fingers deep into it's fur, perched on the blackened back and dove into the waters, no, no, the fires of this hell. This existence. This tale that would end so very badly in blood and violence.

But the blood spurred her on, tasting sweet and metallic as she launched herself, as she felt the shoulder of the invader sink beneath the strength of her fangs. A wolf can crack a thigh bone in half without trying; this fleshy, succulent piece of meat and fur proved to be nothing but sand and paper against the strength of her jaws, the trembling excitement which sizzled like lightning through her body. Yes, yes, yes! -- thinking, believing, she was driven like a beast, held by the hand of her lusts, by the sight of the blood as it splashed against her fur, as she sunk deeper and deeper struggling to free that rapidly beating heart, that pounding menace that resembled the victorious song that throbbed in her ears.

She heard nothing but the rush of blood, felt nothing but the fur in her mouth, the flesh against her fangs, tongue stifled by her closeness.

------------------------------- then pain, quick and scalding, but it was delicious and the black wolf grunted as her muzzle spasmed, as she loosed her hold on the enemy. Like a dream, but clumsier -- like prey -- the other wolf jumped away, swishing around, around, as if by seeing the black sin, the black inevitability, she could keep her away, at bay. Blood pooled in her fur, but it was hot, and it only urged her on -- fury made the black wolf grin, made Rin howl in the confines of their head, their heart, their soul clamoring for more, more, please, give us more! We're not done. Finally, something that bleeds, something that will fall beneath their jaws. Something that will submit, become theirs, hah, hah! Yes! Theirs. Always claiming this hostile, lost wolf, this wandering, searching wolf. Gone were thoughts of battle, of a thousand years of tradition: when the grey wolf moved, the black moved as well, a synchronized dance that she had started the moment she had called to the Girl.

It started years ago, when the Wolf had first claimed a piece of the girl's soul. Now it continued, this dance with death, this flirtation of life and limb as blood dripped from her side, as the other wolf shifted and moved -- but the black will not be outdone and she follows, oh how she follows, uncaring of the pain which rips through her ribs: she does not care, for it evidence that she lives, that she breathes, that this dream has become reality, finally, finally. No longer just running aimlessly, hunting a black pain in a black night -- now there is something before her, and she follows it, not lunging, but rushing forward, keeping the distance shut. So it was: when the wolf cut through her ribs, she let go of the shoulder, but even as the grey moved back, the black merely stumbled after, keeping the distance short, keeping her on a leash of fangs and blood. Come to me, she snarls, ears pointed high up on her skull, tail raised in haughty defiance.

Oh she knows, she knows, this vicious devil, this insatiable beast of moonlight. She comes with rage, and laughter, with blood-madness in her eyes, rises up to claw at the grey's eyes, hoping to stun the wolf as she goes again for the throat. Always the vital areas -- no time for anything but death, but submission. Give in -- her personality is a palpable storm crackling around her, demanding, demanding, seeking nothing but that submission, that ownership. Mine, mine! and the Wolf will not be happy until the grey has become her own, or has died. Jaws snap as she once again seeks the thick wealth buried in the jugular.

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word count;; 916
tags;; Rose ^-^
OOC;; She's a beast!

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[Rose Graham]

The step away from the other wolf had pushed the gray deeper under the canopy of the of the trees, completely blocking out the moon and the stars. The only thing the gray could see of the other wolf was bright eyes and a blurred outline, and even the outline was disappearing. The gray barred its teeth, twitching it's ears. Eyes were not going to be the only way to fight, now ears were necessary to find movements. The thought made the wolf uneasy, for it had never been good with listening, relying mostly on sight. Smell was worthless, because it already knew there was a wolf in front of it. But it would have to try, try it's hardest, because this was happening, this fight. The throbbing in the shoulder made it more of a reality of anything else.

But the throbbing was a distant thought. The only thought needed right now was to focus on the ominous figure not a yard away. Both were still tensed tight, even though both were bleeding freely. The gray could already feel the blood from it's shoulder hardening in the dark fur, making the shoulder stiff and harder to move every second. Breaths were quickening, claws were flexing faster as the pain tried to fight it's was to be noticed. But the wolf had to focus on the threat. Had to focus, must focus. . .

The jump was not unexpected, and the gray had enough time to move out of the dangerous path of the teeth. But the sheer force of the black's body, clipping the gray at the side, was enough to shove the gray up against a close tree. Something cracked, but whether it was in the tree or in the wolf, it wasn't discernible--because all the wolf felt was an explosion of pain. A harsh noise, between a grunt and a growl, escaped between it's teeth. Sliding down the tree, it hit the ground with a thud. The world was spinning, but it refused to give up. The whole left side of it's body was now useless, so putting all the pressure on the right side of the body was hard as it struggled to get up. But it did, and tried to face the threat once more.

The only satisfaction that came out of the last blow was that it had cause the wolf to stumble just a little bit. But no surprise when the black was already ready to fight again. Something inside the wolf's brain collapsed. Whether it was it's willpower or physical ability, it just crushed. Rose, from the back of the brain, looked on with pity and . . . sadness. She knew it would come to this, but she had wished it wouldn't have made her look so weak. Working her whole life for a reputation as strong just to be defeated as a wolf. But the wolf was desperate, and it tried to step forward, and that only resulted in failure. It's legs gave out, and it fell--on the left side. With a pathetic howl, it rolled over on it's back, clouded eyes looking up at the tilting landscape. Though being on the back didn't help much, it was a sign of defeat.

The black had won. The gray had failed.

[Natsumi Sayuri]

+ NATSUMI SAYURI +
•••CALL ME RIN•••


My beautiful liar why are you crying on your knees?
You've crucified yourself and now denial is rising...rising...

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[/CENTER]

She was terrible, so terrible, out of control and uncaring -- a waiting bomb, ticking, ticking, ticking, like her heart, ready to burst, ready to destroy whatever lay before her. It wasn't the grey's fault, not at all -- the black sin was in the midst of exploding, was at the end of her countdown; canon fodder, terrible, terrible accident. But the silence of the forest could not compare to the chaos and noise inside of her head. Yes, yes, the blood was a living, breathing beast, an angry snake that took the Wolf by the very veins and picked her up like a puppet. Yes, be angry, be angry -- this is place is yours, make it yours. No place else to go -- and she revolted, her face contorting, twisting in pain and fear, fangs glistening molten white under the light of the moon. She was as dark as shadow, but for her fangs, but for the vivid light of her tongue and the flash of her pads.

Rin was a shadow that had lived in the darkness for too long to be clumsy, too long to feel anything but the loneliness. In the darkness, she was overcome by her own emotions. In the shadow, she was simply herself, simply Wolf -- struggling for a life that had been denied her.

But tonight, this very moonless night where the stars gleams like wicked gems? It held no hope for her --- nothing but the strength, nothing but the new commitment. The world didn't want her? Well fuck them, then; she would carve a place for herself, take her claws and rip flesh from bone, take those delicately curved fangs and rip the very skin from the earth and force the world to bend to her will. Keep her down? Destroy her? Rin wasn't to be overcome by death.

Chasing the black pain -- that horrible emotion which curdled her intentions! -- she ran from dusk to to dawn, chasing down the littlest scents, the littlest happiness. If this is what it took to be happy, to be overcome by emotion, then damn the world -- she would take it with both eyes wide open, with her jaws open wide. So she came like a hurricane, in the midst of her construction, taking the very world by it's feet and shaking it around. Yes, yes, come on, come all! See the broken creature, this angry, hurt lonely wolf, on the verge of death, chased around by memories she would never admit out loud.

The Wolf sniffs the air for prey; Rin looks into a faceless, soundless crowd looking for a brother that will never look back at her again.

So this fight, this adrenaline which purges the pain from her very body -- pushes it out like poison, leaking out in the blood which soaks her flanks, with the sweat which pools under her scruff. This scuffle, this battle was short, so short -- a lunge, a tear, a duck, following, following, a rush. It was a dance, a wolf dance where fangs met fangs, where anger met anger, where the sparks from that collision made the noiseless night sing with triumph.

So quiet this forest -- but Rin didn't know that. The Wolf didn't know. So quiet, for sure, for sure, but inside the Wolf, inside the Girl a storm was brewing, was clashing about under the cage of her ribs, swallowing her heart whole and thrashing it about. It was a storm of pain, a storm of mourning, of anger. You don't want me?! and she hurls the pain in the other's face, throws it like trash, making the other nothing less than herself. Let us be trash together and the brain switches, the mind's focus alters. No longer death, but humiliation, but broken, wretched desire to be on equal footing, finally, please? Is she not worthy of a fight? Is she not the one who is winning, who is following, following, so close her breath must heat up the grey's fur? Tell her she is not worthy. Tell her! Force her to know your truest thoughts -- don't look so frightened my dear, my dear. The fangs are coming, the pain will end soon. The world kept turning and the bomb kept ticking, down, down, a countdown of life that ended when the ticking stopped, when the clock's gears ceased spinning.

Anger was just one part of this face, this mourning of self and life. Anger was simply the conduit, the weapon which filled her head, her mouth dripping saliva as the hunger came. She had stood up on her hind legs, had slashed at the other's eyes -- but too late, too slow as the grey shifted back, forced back against the tree with her rush; broken, cracking, a massive beast in the midst of snarl -- the grunt in her ears was pleasurable, and she wanted to hear it again.

Punish the world, punish the wolf. Yes, yes, fangs snapped at air as the other stumbled, as the black wolf fell over her own feet, her body lurching against the harsh tree bark. Fur pulled, bark biting deeply into her shoulder as she scraped herself, as blood surged upward, happily, eagerly awaiting the surface. But no ... not yet! Not yet -- and she snarled, her voice cracking like branches, like thunder clapping it's hands together. Not yet; you cannot get away from me --- a pause as the other stood, and the black wolf's ears flick down against her ears, hackles stiff and raised, tail rising, rising, haughtily, overpowering in her confidence. Blood seeped, but scent of it crawling into her mouth, into her nose and driving her wild.

The grey moved -- and as the black tensed, felt a certain victory as primal as her existence rise up. The grey fell forward, rolling to her side and visceral pleasure cut through her -- rushing forward, the black's fangs entrapped the grey's neck, without puncturing, claiming victory as fiercely as she had entered. So quick this duel of flesh and blood, of pain and sorrow -- so quickly ended, but the intensity of it sang in her blood, sang in her head as she released the grey as she stepped back, back, hackles raised, tail curled.

A heartbeat of stillness as those black eyes glittered, as those pitiless eyes soaked in that victory and her head tilted back, thrown back with primal force: a sound, breathtaking and claiming resounding out of her throat. Her whole body became the instrument of her victory, her win, the triumphant, defiant sound piercing the black night, silencing even the crickets in their incessant calls. Victory yes, it tasted fine on her tongue indeed.

Nosing the grey with the black leather of her nose, Rin took a deep breath of that scent, that musty scent of wolf, that light-airy musk of female. She branded her brain with that smell, tongue sliding out to caress the wound on her shoulder once, enough, before a sound within the forest swiveled her ears around. Humans had come into their forest -- and the Wolf was receding under the gluttony of victory and the possible oncoming of students, or worse -- teachers. With a snap of her fangs, the black wolf jumped in the opposite direction of the stumbling footsteps and disappeared into the night.

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word count;; 1233
tags;; Rose
OOC;; I guess this is the end of our awesome thread! O.O I had people come so Rose wouldn't be completely abandoned >.>' hope you don't mind lol

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