Willow Ridge heaven go easy on me

Bear with me, here, I know there really sin't much of the wya of plant life available. HE A GOOD SCAVENGAR.

---

Draped over the cliff edge was a curtain of stone that rippled and teased the trees at the edge of the forest, thrusting it's boulders and rocks amongst the roots. Perhaps one day the mountain would swallow the forest entirely, the lowly wolf mused as he paused for a moment beside the wall, strange roots in his mouth. Now, he said, turning his attention aside, Where is it again? Gently, he placed the strange looking roots at his feet and lifted his muzzle to the sky.

This time, when he drank deeply from the air it meant something. The breeze spoke to him. It carried the stories of this poor land whose past, he could sense, was fraught with pain. These wolves he lived with — they had not been the first; they would not be the last. The red man sighed, wondering how he could have been so blind to the world that lived in the wind, the world that his nostrils could read and his eyes and his heart could not. How could he have denied this part of himself for so long? There was no sin in this sense. He was only using what God had given him. I won't take it for granted, Pangur, I swear. His exhale was heavy, the steam of his breath swirling from his nostrils and disturbing the roots he had set before his paws.

Ah, yes. The roots.

Once more he picked them up and started off again. He trotted close to the wall, his ginger fur brushing against the time worn stone. From time to time, he would stop and glance upward at the cliff-side as if looking for something, then shake his head and continue on. It was some time before he finally stopped, pausing where there were a number of tumbled boulders. Here, he began to scramble upwards, bounding from rock to rock piled up against the wall. Eventually, this path gave way to a cavern that had been worn into the cliff side. Cautiously, the red man stepped in side the dark, fairly shallow cavern. It was cold in here, surrounded by stone that never saw the light of day. But it was dry at least, and it would keep his small collection safe.

Carely, he laid the shriveled, tangled mess in his jaws in a pile next to several other piles of assorted things. There was a pile of shriveled yellow flowers, and a clutch of some dark berries, and a collection of something like wheat, and a bundle of spiderweb. Now, Kiche wasn't really quite sure what any of these things did... but he had smelled them on Elettra before. He had caught glimpses of them in her den in Grizzly Hollow. He figured they were probably worth collecting if Elettra had bothered to keep them around at all. She didn't seem like someone who would waste.

Once more, he took a deep breath and steps out towards the entrance to cavern. Slowly, he lifted his head to the sky and let out a bellowing cry. His howl was distinct —a strange mixture of scream and shout. Kiche had never learned just precisely how the heathens made their music, but his improvisation wasn't that far off.

ST. KICHE of WIllows and Hollows

image by GREY | AUTUMN BREEZE made by BONKO of caution 2.0, rpg-d and shine.

(This post was last modified: Feb 11, 2013, 04:20 AM by Kiche.)

like my art? comission me!

Choppy - mixed with the short of a growling and a yipping manner of a coyote. The howl was different from the voice behind it, but familiar to a way which Elettra could take great assumption in being Kiche. His sound echoed over the lands like a pup's might, new to their voice. In fact, Elettra could never recall a single time before hearing the howling voice of Kiche.
Though she meant well not to have to deal with the Low member within their pack, her worry, come with anger and frustration would do well with seeing him and perhaps, offer some sort of release. Though whenever Elettra saw the Lowest within the pack lands, she would snap at him, slash at him and work him to the bone, it had been long since he had truly tore into the man she considered nothing more then her own personal punching bag.
Though only just recently had Narime been returned to the pack by her own abilities in finding her escape, word of Koda was minimal to none and evermore did Elettra find herself able to keep her cool. As the seemingly remaining Lead and with spring approaching, the darkly coated woman was on high alert. Her strides were long and fluid, slow with each cautious step. Her footing crunched under her from the snows below and her body held high to greet the flurries falling from the sky. She found herself moving to the edge of her territories boarder, near where the land became much more rocky, opening up to the beginnings of the Heights mountain face. She could smell him with an obvious wrinkling of her nose, though she could not see him.

After some time, Her dark shadow emerged from the trees and passed over his heart. It had been quite some time since he had last seen her. A few weeks, maybe. They seldom crossed paths since most of his time had been spent out here, at the very limits of the Ridgelands. And Kiche was okay with this,He trembled, suddenly, as if frightened.

But it wasn't fear that made him shiver, so.

Oh no. It was Lust.

The judgement she had promised him was coming, he could feel it. Every part of his body hummed and resonated with a strange anticipation. This is what he had came here for. To make up for the past. To be convicted, put on trial, and sentenced for every wrong he had done. Wash me, clean me, beat me, hate me, anything. Every beating brought him a little closer to his God, a little closer to redemption, a little closer to understanding his place in this world. And yet, there was something more to these feelings than the religious desire. There was a thrill that quickened his pulse and a perverse desire to be the victim. Somehow these two realities existed without contradicting each other. Both held equal sway over his mind as they ripped him apart.

But he had always been a broken man.

"Elettra," he barked from his perch on the cave, flicking his muzzle towards the rock pile he had scaled. "It's up here." Would she snarl at him? Would just shove him aside and put him in his place?

He could only hope.

ST. KICHE of WIllows and Hollows

image by GREY | AUTUMN BREEZE made by BONKO of caution 2.0, rpg-d and shine.

like my art? comission me!

So she decided to beat him up for a sec. XD

And there he was, calling out to her, coming up out of the snow and rock-face. He was a beckon of brightness in the white and grays by his gingery red coating. Elettra on the other paw, blended well: she was dark in much places, yes, though here along the rockier portion of the terrain during this season she matched. Her blacks, gray and pales to white bits mimicked the rock and snow. Though once he poked himself out he was seen clearly and with a scoff, she followed to him. She bounded from rocky step to the next rocky slope and platform. Up on the beginnings to the cliff side it was much above ground but not high, high to which a fall would be more damaging then bruising on a twisted ankle.
"You." Her dark voice coos as she stalks her way closer into his direction. "I've been craving a piece of you." For the time being, she would not take to notice the piece of property he had founded within the outskirts of Willow Ridge territory. Momentarily, she was blinded with worry, hurt, fear, and best of yet, rage. Reaching to the opening of the cavern, she lunged at him, taking in a low leap to which her left should would aim to slam into his chest as her jaws sought to claim his own left shoulder. Her force was made clear, to knock him straight back onto his spine on the cold cavern floor with him below and she on top, where they both belonged. This cavern was overdue for a christening of blood.

(This post was last modified: Feb 02, 2013, 03:55 AM by Elettra.)

LOL this is going to be one kinky thread. here, have some random lyrics:

I am the Law and the Law is not mocked
I'll spit his pity right back in his face
There is nothing on earth that we share
It is either Valjean or Javert!

— Javert's Suicide, Les Miserables

(After writing post) OMG I did not mean for it to turn out so dirty. I BLAME YOU.

---

He shuddered with every footfall that brought her closer.

"You."

Her sultry murmur was enough to throw red man to the ground. He pulled his tail up towards his stomach, as if to make some attempt to protect his sensitive man-parts. The fear began to fill him up, and yet he was excited. He had waited so long for her to do something, to make something of him.... and now the moment was here.

"I've been craving a piece of you."

His lids fell down over his amber eyes as if in ecstasy. He did not know what forces compelled him anymore. Was it godliness or something else, something less pure? He did not question her motives or ask why. The boundary between heaven and earth seemed to fade. Images of Pangur and Elettra began to merge in the darkness behind his eyes. Kiche had been bad. He had spent years questioning her, his God, and he had no right to ask any more questions of her. She probably didn't even hear him. Just before her body connected with his, he whispered, "Take me"

Their bodies met and he could hardly stand the strange feeling that flared in his heart. The sheer force of her, with all her hard muscle and hard-won weight, was enough to send him onto his pack. But she was strong, and the jaws that found her shoulder came with him as he fell backwards. She broke the skin. Bright ginger fur came away from his shoulders in tufts and blood began to seep up from puncture wounds.

Oh, how it hurt. And yet it felt good. It felt good to hurt. The red man's eyes flickered but he held them shut. Otherwise, he made no other move to defend himself.... in fact he pulled his head back, baring his neck to this dark shadow the lay upon him. Take it, he dared her, Take it, it's yours. I'm yours. So lost was he in this crazy fantasy that had run away with his morals, he actually began to speak this out loud, "I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours," he whispered with a strange longing.

ST. KICHE of WIllows and Hollows

image by GREY | AUTUMN BREEZE made by BONKO of caution 2.0, rpg-d and shine.

like my art? comission me!

Damn! Kiche has a filthy mind despite the fact that it's not exactly filthy! Lol. And those lyrics seem to work perfectly. XD Also, assuming she got a gold on his throat since he exposed it, ok?

I'll carve you and from that flesh ill create something of worth.
She could feel him under her, his fur prickling between her own along the length of her chest and stomach, red mingled with black - darkness and blood. Straddling him, her limbs at his sides, she felt the heaving of his chest with his deepened breaths. Her teeth sink into skin and flesh and once contact is made, her jaws tear away, attempting a gash. She wants no hold to him, but to mare him in various places to which it will take longer to heal, leaving a longer memory of this act. With his lifted throat, a begging, she attacks straight for the exposure, seeking his neck, his windpipe.
Within her jaws, was his life. His pulse echoed from his throat against her teeth and as she paused, his quickened her, with her own, pounded like a drum in her ear. His whispers, a vibration against lips. Take me, I'm yours. His voice echos on the cavern walls. I want you! Her mind sings. Her jaws tighten, likely to break off his words, to catch his breath. For a moment Elettra's own breath catches as she finds herself in pure ecstasy, adrenaline rushing through her in her act of rage, in her display of power. Little did she often express herself in such a brutal way as she wished and though she held the brains of her parents, her line was of brutal beasts, most acting before thinking and often or not Elettra was no exception to this. She was a warrior. She was a killer. If any of her members thought to fear her now, they hadn't seen shit yet.
Moments still pass, and she holds him there, willing to feel he heightening and quickening of his heart against her, to smell the fear and lust on his being, to hear the gurgle of his breath. She felt him, smelt him, heard him and tasted him and all the while she saw not, savor the screaming of red. Though her mind grew foggy and weary with the intoxication and when the fog cleared, she realized where she was. Her grip remained but loosened so if he could not breath properly before, he could not. Her silvery gaze sought the area about her. A cavern, hidden and snuggled away, small but to perfection for it's purpose. The smell of herbs, dried out and mainly dead mingled with the smell of blood and she found the bits Kiche had sought nestled in the corner.
Instantly, she released him, bounding over his fallen frame to trail the sides of the cavern, sniff and prod at the herbs found and take interest to what was truly around her, savor the muck of a wolf at her paws. Everything that he had dedicated himself to working on with the herbal storage den was beautiful as of yet. Admirable, despite the fact that she held no admiration for the wolf who built it. Her lips, licking at the blood which soaked them, taking in a deep breath. "You did this?" She questions, with clear amazement to her tongue. She could have never imagined something good coming from a man she had only known for as pathetic disaster.

• phin gets the playful side, sica gets the emotional side, kiche gets the sexy side :P i see how it is.

And as he bared his throat to her she took it in her jaws.... but her touch was not gentle. No, she bit into him, and blood began to gurgle up from his throat. Oh how this monster, this woman stole the breath away from him, took it from not with words or romance, but with the force of her teeth, with her vicious power. Oh, he didn't want to breath anymore if she didn't want him to. He was hers. In such a small moment the fear had melted away from him and he was left with only nameless feelings. Oh, he was hers and he would never belong to anyone else. Not even Aisling. Oh, he had belong to her once... but hers was just a nose to kiss, to bump with his own. She had been a girl, a silly girl.

Elettra was a woman, a goddess.

For several moments they were still, intertwined and bloody. The lowly saint reveled in the dark woman's scent, the strength of her jaws, the weight of her body on top of his. This was his place, here, underneath her, underneath everything. For the first time in a very long time he felt completely content, as if he had finally slipped into the niche God had always meant for him, had patiently been urging him towards all this time. Oh, this was bliss. Kiche never wanted to open his eyes again.

But suddenly her jaws fell away from his throat and the perfection of the world was shattered. An overwhelming shame came upon him. The thoughts that he had allowed himself to think were suddenly exposed by the daylight as the black shadow moved away. How could he have allowed himself to think... to think such disgusting thoughts? Had he been bewitched? Suddenly his firey eyes flickered to the dark she-wolf gazing at the cavern, he searched his heart. No. She had done nothing to him. His thoughts were his alone. The shame deepened. She needs someone much better than me.

The awe in her voice sent a shiver of excitement through his body. He had never heard this tone in her voice, but she knew it was meant more for his work than for himself. That stung him deeply. "My Lord God lead me here, my Lady. I do not pretend to take all the credit for his work," a shy, humble smile played on his lips as he spoke to her paws, a red flower blooming on his throat. He longed for her to turn and face him again. "Does it please you?"

(This post was last modified: Feb 11, 2013, 04:31 AM by Kiche.)

like my art? comission me!

"Did he now?" Her words spoke lightly as still her body moved about the cavern walls. It was a small area, but a crack within the mountain's footing which within an open space lay. She speaks little more on the mentioning of his 'Lord God', for though Elettra had known such religion, perhaps not exactly to his own, she had never payed much attention to the acts of the Gods, nor adhere to their will. They may guide, as so mentioned by Kiche, though Elettra had believed her fate was within her own paws, with only the Gods offering a push as they might. It was mortals, as they were, which held the aspect of free will, to in the long run make the decision for their own no matter how much influence may or may not be offered. Elettra's religion only reached as far as an understanding of the Gods and their existence within ether the realms of Heaven, Hells, or the very Earth which they walked.
As he speaks of pleasing her, a smirk toys at the edges of her pale lips, her silvery pale gaze looking down upon him from the ground which he still lay. "It does." And she holds her attention to him there for a moment longer, awaiting his reaction to her words with much curiosity. In time, she turns away again once more, only for her left paw to sweep up the glob of spider webbing which he had obtained, though likely of unknowing its use. She turns, reaching out her limb to him and brushing the length of her toes and pad over the blossoming red at his throat. Likely, he would not understand her act, though her intention was to stop the bleeding of the potentially dangerous wound before it got out of hand. He would be of no use dead, and death was a far too easy fate to come by. "Your God..." She goes on then, settling before Kiche in a tight, proper sit. "Do you think he led you to me? And why, as I am...A heathen, a witch...?" Her eyes are intent upon him, searching, wondering with much deadly curiosity yet still to play at the strings of this male, whom had been known as a kind of 'priest' within the heart of the Hollow. Yet his God if he lead him so, brought him here, to be judged and punished before the paws of a woman whom he had forever come to know as a mortal enemy.

• your next post can wrap it up<3 can just fade to black with her pressing cobwebs into him and being all sexy-like :P

Elettra had always kept her dark past under lock and key, but Kiche would have been stirred to hear the tales of a theology different than his own. Any sort of believer was a kindred spirit, in a way. It had taken a long time for time to reach this realization, and Kiche had come a long way from the spitting, frightened house pet he had once been. Now that he understood that these heathens were not heathens at all, but rather brethren, he longed to open his heart and learn from them. Thoughts of God, however, interested him the most, though he had little exposure to any religion outside of his own, sadly.

The delicate lilt of his voice struck him as deeply strange in his woman, and in an instant his eyes and his attention snapped towards the lady to focus more intently on her. His face was openly inquisitive as he followed her movement through the cave. He couldn't make anything of her question, whether it was sarcastic, incredulous, or merely curiosity. Unsure of how to answer, he merely grunted in assent, feeling blood gurgling up from his throat as he did. With mild concern, the red man craned his head as if to assess the damage, but it was a bad angle. As he moved, he felt lightheaded. Thank God I'm already on the ground.

And now she turned to smile at him, and a strange shiver ran down his spine. She had never smiled at him either. Kiche couldn't remember ever pleasing this woman before. The churning in his stomach, although unfamiliar, was not uncomfortable. In a way, it was deeply satisfying. Cautiously, the red man cast a glance back at her, careful to make no eye contact lest he break the uncanny serenity of the moment. This attention she paid him, however, was short-lived. In a moment she had turned away again, turning to face the assorted herbs he had collected unknowingly.

When the dark goddess had turned around to face him again, however, he saw that her paw was wrapped in a swathe of gossamer. He no longer had any idea what to expect from her anymore. He was no longer sure what was happening. Anxiety folded his ears backwards and his tail curled back up around his body as she neared. But all Elettra did was brush her web-wrapped paw lightly across his throat, pressing the spider-silk to his throat. An older part of his soul cringed reflexively at the thought of witchcraft... but he knew now there was nothing to fear. He did not understand, and a whine rose from his throat.

Once more her interest set him off-balance. His eyes were on her silvery paws as she reclined to a sit with refined grace. Do you think he led you to me? And why, as I am...A heathen, a witch...? The question bounced off the walls of his skull as he searched his heart for an answer. He had never thought of it before, not really. Sure, he had chosen to throw himself at her feet for penance... but he had never wondered why her. Why had she entered his life, why was it her that played this dangerous role of a witch only to turn into the black and white face of his judge. Ponderously, he opened his mouth to speak, "He must have..." At this, he paused, his expression dark with thought. Then he added, softly, "I don't know else he could have managed to show me how...wrong I was. How careless and abusive I have been...." And more softly still: "I believe he lead me to you to humble me."

"And I can never repay you for all you have done for me, though I shall try."

(This post was last modified: Feb 19, 2013, 05:00 AM by Kiche.)

like my art? comission me!

SEXY COBWEBS IT IS...wait, what? XD

There was much 'first times' to happen between this pair and much more beyond this night. A small smile, an understanding of pleasing to what Kiche had not only come by, but the few bits of effort he had done by gaining herbs and such that he had otherwise thought to be poisons of a witch's trick. She had attacked him, held his life in her jaws and, let him live. He would grow to be more so useful, beyond this night, gaining her information which would keep the pack on guard and ready themselves for the epidemic to come. She would joke with him, reason with his obvious willingness to prove himself to the pack and with it, fully accepting himself a a wolf and part of the community which it upheld. He would crossed the unseen lines to the pack den, would challenge himself, fight for placement within the ranks as a true member and still furthermore, a true wolf. Perhaps all along, it had been his inability to understand himself which had caused his former outbursts, his chaotic nature and back-stabbing acts towards brethren he once believed to be heathens. Now that he was 'cured', had he become a new man all together?
He believes it is his god whom has lead him here, to show him the light of understanding, to not only offer him reason but to open up the knowledge of this existence as a wolf. Perhaps it was truth, that the gods had pushed him into this direction, a path for which judgement, understanding, meaning and new life would all be mingled together, brought forth by a woman whom had no means to hold back, to coddle him like a child. From the moment Elettra had met him, Kiche was causing havoc and disorder amongst the pack. He attacked thr Second which had only days ago accepted her and disobeyed the Leader and then, before winter had fully arrived, Kiche had up and left them. With it, he had spat on Jaysyek's friendship and trust and betrayed the very children he swore to teach and protect with his abandonment. Elettra could only hope the judgement, the penance and vengeance she had offered him would only be enough to make him understand what he had done and to learn from these wrongs. His last sentence was a shock, a shock that she kept locked away within the cold chill of her pale eyes. All she had done for him.... It was interesting to hear these words on the red man's lips and she replayed them again and again in her head, all the while silent. Still the silence was deafening, as though she knew not how to respond to the man lest in malice and so, could not reply. Instead, she shifts, moving her paw through the webs once more, to brush her paws against him still in hopes to repair the damage she had done.