oh! 100th post! :D

It was getting closer, the demon, he just knew it. Slowly, he turned his head back to look at her, and his heart plummeted, racing faster, beating harder at his chest. Every paw step reverberated as an earthquake in his soul, and he crouched lower and lower as she neared him. Her walk was strange, slow, deliberate, seductive.... it was everything he had ever expected from a female demon like her. The smirk she wore made his skin crawl. It was the window to her black hole, her black malicious soul that intended on toying with him, torturing him. He glanced about, remembering the white illusion she had conjured, wondering if she would have it reappear again. The musk of fear, already about him, only strengthened. "Stay back!" he whimpered, nearly laying on the ground, unable get any lower, unable to move. He was helpless.

Oh, she was most certainly a manipulative little thing. Unlike the other heathens, she had no denied her claim to power, her ability to warp reality and bend the minds of God-fearing souls like Kiche. She seemed to revel in it, and it was terrifying him. She would not stop until she knew his name. But... but was he allowed to give into the demands of a heathen? No. Was he allowed to lie to her? What would God want me to do. He doesn't approve of liars. Caught between a rock and a hard place, trapped, lying on the ground with only his meek whimpers for defense. He would have to lie. "M-m-my name is... Sebastian. Now please stop." He figured God was more like to forgive him, since, while he was lying, he was getting her to stop doing the magic. For the time being, at least.

As she slowly yet surely drew closer, Volk kept her gaze fixed on him. She still wasn't sure what "magic" she was supposed to be doing; she supposed that it would "stop" soon, since she didn't even know what the poor wolf was talking about. And as she got closer, he grew poorer, pretty much gluing himself to the ground, whimpers flying out of his throat...

The dark yearling stopped, the guilt in her heart shaking her out of her momentarily twisted sense of dominance over him. As a young female, she wasn't used to wolves acting like this at all, and to be honest, while a few moments ago it had amused and excited her, it now just felt a little weird. Put off, Volkan stopped short of him, head tilting curiously as she watched him grovel. Suddenly the illusion was shattered, leaving only a gangly rogue standing there, staring at him in confusion.

"Okay, okay, calm down Sebastian," she complained, now growing rather annoyed, hoping the use of his (weird?) name would help bring him back from whatever delusional fantasy he was in. "I'm not doing anything. Look–" she looked pointedly at him to make sure he was watching, then twirled around once so that he could see her full canine form, ragged tail and all. "See? I'm just a wolf, like you. So... get off the ground already." There was no reason he should be submissive toward her, anyway, she realized. She was just a rogue here, and for all intents and purposes they were equals.

She asked him to calm down as if it was the most rational, painfully obvious thing in the world. Calm down? REALLY? She was a savage, threats had been made against his life, she had plotted to kill him —and probably still was— and she had done magic to him, and she wanted him to calm down? Kiche couldn't imagine that he had ever been so terrified or been in so much danger in his life. Sure, she claimed that she was not going to do anything to him. Obviously, she just wanted him to let his guard down so that she could take him unawares. But he would not let that happen. The massive ginger hulk did not budge from where he lay, groveling in the dirt, his eyes narrowed into two distrusting slits.

When she twirled about, Kiche assumed this was another bit of magic, and growled. But nothing happened. Maybe. Perhaps he just couldn't tell, yet. Maybe it was delayed. Maybe she was just trying to distract him. Wild paranoid notions plagued his thoughts. "See? I'm just a wolf, like you..." What might have seemed like a simple statement threw Kiche into a rage, forcing him to throw aside his fear. "I am nothing like you, you filthy savage! I am not a wolf!" How dare she call him by such a filthy heathen name. He did not, however, know what the name meant, what it applied to. Whatever it was though, it was obviously disgusting and profane.

Of course, her attempt to get him to calm down was to no avail. Her words had zero effect on him as evidenced by his growling, and as his eyes narrowed on her, she stared at him, growing more and more uneasy as the seconds ticked on. Instinctively she matched his growl with one of her own, tail now tucking between her hind legs in irritation, flicking anxiously at her heels. Fine – if he was going to act all crazy, Volkan wasn't going to deal with it. Whoever the hell he was, Sebastian wasn't worth her time. Whatever, she thought, getting ready to turn tail and just walk away much the same as the white female had done before – until what he said hit her like a slap in the face.

Volkan stood stunned for a second, pale eyes wide as she stared at him. But after the shock wore off, the onyx yearling's expression of surprise twisted into one of disgusted amusement, as though a giant writhing worm lay before her in his place. "Excuse me?" she spat, stance widening and hackles raising. She could feel the fur standing up on her back. Her face was hot, her heart racing. Maybe she wasn't part of the Aquila Clan anymore, but she wasn't a savage, and she wasn't filthy – no, she had been raised better than that, she had been raised to stand up for herself, not to take shit from anyone. "Are you fucking kidding me, you waste of space? You're insane." Her teeth, bared in seething anger, flashed at him, her words heavy with a growl. "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you're the filthy savage!"

The last word was a scream. Before she knew it, she was rocketing through the air at him with a nasty snarl, gaping jaws aiming for any part of his face she could puncture as her ears flattened against her small skull.

oh don't worry. and well, Kiche is mostly harmless. he doesn't have much in the way of fighting skills, so your baby isn't in any danger :3

Fancy that: he struck a nerve.

Her tongue lashed out at him first, barbed with outrage and profanity. She threw whatever he had dished right back at him, turning up the volume. Waste of space. Insane. Filthy savage. As she loomed over him, bristling and seething, the picture of rage and the promise of violence, she felt his legs go numb. He could have peed himself had he not felt as if he were paralyzed, attached to the ground by stone pillars he had formerly called legs. His body had deserted him. His mind, however, had not. It writhed and smoldered at her baseless accusations, and found his fear pushed aside entirely, shred like a useless, old skin.

The next thing to lash out at him were the very teeth of the savage, that caught his muzzle, scraping against the thin layer of fur and skin. Immediately, he recoiled, withdrawing his head. But the rest of his body was still in revolt, immobilized, his legs locked. He could not dodge as the yearling continued on her collision course, her body ramming into his as if she were freight train, and he was thrown backwards. There was a sharp bark that rushed from his muzzle as he slammed into the ground, the girl on top of him. Without even thinking, his teeth flashed out to perhaps catch her in the leg —or anything else within reach. I'm sorry, God, I'm so sorry, he begged and pleaded, Forgive me, this is only in self defense.

Boom. The instant she made contact with the maniac she bellowed a wild, almost masculine snarl, snapping her head sharply to the left as she felt her bottom teeth connect with fur and flesh. Instead of clamping down on anything, Volkan wanted to tear the flesh on his face, perhaps to scar him; right now, she was interested only in revenge, not actual harm – though of course, if push came to shove, she wasn't afraid to do real damage to the brute.

He hadn't moved, but his retaliation left Volkan a little surprised – "Agh–!" a sharp pain went searing through the back of her left front leg, in what could only be described as the armpit region. Immediately this reaction was met with a loud yip as the wolf looked down and realized that the bastard had actually bit her. She could see and smell the blood that, though in small amounts, oozed from his muzzle and her underarm, unable to tell just yet how deep her own wound was. With the male's hold still secure on her underarm (I think?), her next instinct was to lunge forward at his neck in an attempt to pin him down; he didn't seem to be moving much, and although he was larger and heavier than she was, hopefully she could force him into a position where he couldn't attack her with much success – with desperately narrowed eyes, she dove for his neck on the right side, scrunching her left shoulder forward in hopes of protecting her own neck, oversize ears still pinned to her skull...

short! :P

A furious noise rang about the ashen trees, echoing. Let that be my cry for help, he thought, although there was no hope that any thing that could come to his rescue would be the one thing he desired: his masters. He was beyond civilization, though, and there was no trace of his masters. He had searched and come up empty. He was alone. There would be no help. The thought struck his heart fearfully, and there was a searing pain at his neck. Except that pain wasn't self pity, that pain was the teeth at his throat, clamping down and pinning him back. He gasped for air and found it difficult. This lack of oxygen was scaring him, and he knew he had to get her off of him, quickly. Suddenly he rolled to his left, hoping to come up on top of her, crush her with his weight.

Volkan got the neck hold she'd been aiming for and wasn't surprised; the male wasn't moving much and seemed to be more on the defensive. She clamped down hard with her jaws, wanting to inflict as much pain as she could in her current fury, and began to shake her head left and right, hoping to tear. She wanted to hurt him, to make him suffer, the dick –

He rolled suddenly to his left and suddenly what he was trying to do clicked. He was trying to get on top of her. But Volkan wouldn't be so easily subdued. Quickly she pulled away from him, aware from her fighting experience of the dangers of being pinned, especially by a larger wolf... she released her hold on his neck, no longer wanting to fight, no longer wanting to cause pain, only wanting to get the hell away from this crazy wolf.

She wrenched away, jumping backward, hoping he'd abandon his hold on her underarm...

should have been more specific about that, but yeah. we'll go with that.
uhm, i'm going to finish it here, okay? :3 you can post once more if you like. otherwise, just archive it.

The little maggot ripped and tore at the fur of his neck, tearing fur, tearing skin. He would have very much liked to roll on top of her, crush her, force her to release her grip. Except when he twisted about, he found that she wasn't underneath him. She had vanished into thin air. Magic Struck with a violent wave of fear at the idea of a force that he could not possibly contend with, he leaped to his feet and stumbled backwards. And there she was. Standing there in front of him.

Locking eyes for only a moment, he was hit with all the strength of her heathen magic. She was holding back. It had been a horrible, horrible idea to retaliate. In a flash, he turned tail and ran, throwing himself madly between trees, weaving left and right, hoping to put some distance between the witch and himself. But did it matter? Would she just manifest in front of him and eat his soul? God, I hope not. He had never run so hard in his life.

[dohtml]gone.[/dohtml]