Drooping Willows Fall and Break Your Mother's Back

ooc: For the lovely @Avari

 

Urien was moving effortlessly, although there was more cowardice than usual to it. Without much of a choice, he had found himself wanting to be able to breathe in the life that was around him. Choices had been made, and the scolding voice in his head was almost always ringing, this isn't what Kjors wanted you to do... But there was the loop in which he was not about to be denied that as long as he did some swift work he still had a chance. Somewhere out there, answers were going to be granted to him.

As he found himself unable to stop the burn in his throat, he almost made a keening sound. It was an intent that was not going to be denied, but after @Raela had been so utterly helpful in making him want to seek solace into the dark and frustrating place of a pack's life, well, Urien had no choice. There was expectations, and undoubtedly wandering away from home was the wrong thing to do.

The frustration was almost beckoning, but there was no denying that there was boiling excitement. This was an opportunity! This was a reason that he could open his mouth and all but sing, but he was wary about giving out any allegiance. or all he knew, a chiliad of wolves would be marching on him by the next day. Having a tag on him that beckoned association, well, he knew that was never quite the right thing to be doing.

Nose seemed to skim the air, and the wolf was desperate to make his senses light up. Such was a problem, his paranoia creeping in. At the same time, he felt a rousing tug as a woman with paranoia laced in beauty filled his mind, and suddenly @Hecate was all he could think about. Overwhelmed, the male shuffled to a stop and found himself unable to breathe, heart hammering in his chest in a way he could not begin to make sense of it. The woman had been so lusty, she had been so ready and he wanted to chew on her --

Drool dripped on the ground as his tongue lolled out, and he found himself at a loss on what to do. The stiffness of his muscles had to do with the fact even thinking of her worried, fierce face could make him roused and excitable was a statement enough in his own. While he might not have been condemned to think of her forever, it was enough to make him grumble.

He had to find out where she lived, and then he would watch her. Watch her until she was unable to deny it, that he was the one wolf she wanted so very badly.

(This post was last modified: Aug 07, 2015, 08:32 PM by Urien.)

It wasn't the first time Avari had ventured into the willows, and with good reason all the same. What she'd found some days prior in the company of another female were the vines that snaked and grew beneath the surface, ripe with leaves that offered her a more than desirable sensation in the later hours of the evening. She was a distinguished woman that looked the part, and none would have ever guessed that her reign as queen had fallen the way that it had. She still carried that air of confidence and the regal strut to match. She had never got out of the habit of keeping her head raised and her chin tipped back. So too had she hung onto her arrogance. Any grounds on which she walked almost instantly belonged to her, and having been in the willows before she had that same mindset. She was here for what she wanted - more of the leaves from those vines. To hell if the scent of a stranger was going to stop her. Hesitations be damned. She was beginning to come to the point that she was too old to care what others thought. A pack could move into this land, and she would continue to return as she pleased to get what she needed. Though one wouldn't find it hard to believe that any pack that lived here would be hers. She had scented a male, and actively sought him out. There was only one - what harm could there be in... investigating? Nose to the air and ears turning, as she rounded a tree and caught sight of her single target. Eyes locked upon him, but it was like he'd been turned to stone as he stood. Frozen and not moving, save from the salivation that dribbled from his muzzle. How interesting! The woman's face turned into a rather brilliant grin, and she held her ground as she called forward to try and snap him from his trance. "Why, how flattering!" She blinked in quick succession with a batting of her eyes as she shifted her position to stand directly in his line of sight with her head up and tail lax, swinging as she moved until coming to a stop some feet from the end of his nose. "I must say it's been some time since a man so handsome actually drooled upon seeing me." She was taunting, somewhat. Baiting him into either a compliment or a reaction. That was if he could actually find it in him to move...

There is a moose carcass that has been scavenged by coyotes nearby. +15 Health

Drool dripping to the ground, he wondered what it would have been like to rub his face into the stomach of the woman who had stunned him. Hecate had certainly taken him off guard, and Urien was now quite certain that she was the daughter of rogue, alien bandits (why else would she talk like she did?) but he hardly knew what held the attraction. What was a reason that he would be so morbidly fascinated.

Then the answer came to him.

Poison.

About the same time the female took him by surprise, he was coming out of his dreamlike state with a cry. He lunged forward into a prime position with legs spread, mouth hanging open as he uttered a frustrated, male cry. Of course, the lunging from his position forward closed him in on the older woman who was rambling about something, something about the menace to society that she was, and his fur went up. Instantly he bristled, the cowardly Urien shifting to lower his head as he curled his lip at her.

Leaking cauldrons never burst! They ring and ring until the spoils of the poison rot through the bottoms! Begone, witch! Begone! Stomping his paws, he snapped his jaws at her with a sudden flare, attempting to be intimidating. It was the truth of the matter - he knew it must be so. Figuring out that Hecate had poisoned him, to be enamored with her and want to do things to her body - it had summoned the maker of such poisons! It was the witch!

His tail lashed in the air and he was still drooling, grunting as his tail swished and he arched his back - almost in a fair like feline way as he puffed himself outwards; Brutality screams! A murder will not wash away in the willows - it will not, witch!

Well now that was far from the reaction she had been expecting. Suppose she should have been more wary though, of a male that was frozen in time with drool hanging in strings from his lips. It was a sure sign of some level of psychotic mentality. Still the way he broke out of his trance was nothing short of a shock. Aggression and threats. It warranted nothing more than a shake of her head, one so subtle it was barely seen. The widow never flinched in response, sitting calm like a spider waiting in it's web. Waiting for him to come and get caught amongst her strings. Until he spoke that was, and but one single word caused a stir. Witch. Her eyes widened a little, then narrowed into a rather vicious leer. What kind of behaviour was that, to go around calling royal women witches? She was almost stunned by his boldness, but she would never bend to his will. Be gone? Jaws cracked with a bark of laughter as her face slowly settled back into that typical calm and almost emotionless state. "Witch?" Her voice was low, suddenly not nearly as friendly or taunting as it had been when she had first spoken to him. Slowly she moved forward, taking just one step, and her tail couldn't help but start to curl up over her back. Just as his fur bristled, so too did hers, and every breath beckoned forth a growl as her lips curled and nose lifted to bare each and every one of her gleaming fangs. Her eyes sparkled, and deliberately the pushing of air through clenched jaws started frothing at the corners. It was an imitation and nothing else. He was clearly insane, and so she tried to make herself look the same. "Did you just call me..." she paused as she stepped closer, hackles spiked as a rush of air pushed forward and all but spat at the male. She could smell a bluff and was intent to call it, but even if he was half as gutsy as he looked she was fairly certain she could handle him. "A witch?!" Her voice roared, and it echoed, and that bubbling saliva flung from her jaws as she screamed in deep tones only to reach forward and snap her jaws back at him in response. "Foolish boy!" She snarled again, looking every bit ready and capable of tearing his throat clean from his neck. "Bow to the witch! Lest I curse you and yours with broken backs!!"

 

The madness was going to seize him, going to send him into a fit of never lasting spasms. His tail was swatting against the ground, arrogant and absolutely stunned with the notion that was pinging against the top of his head. It was why there was no missing the shine that seemed to take his eyes, the paranoia leaking it. It was almost endless, and he found himself rolling his paws with the need to be able to escape if needed.

Squawking, he was all but throwing himself back with restless paws grappling over the ground with the notion that a demon witch was going to be perking through his world, and his intention was not about to be thrown away from the path he had chosen. Cleanse the evil, and his paw raised, hopelessly swatting at her as he snarled and bubbled the spit out of the side of his mouth. Lost, there was no missing the struggle that was screaming in his mind, telling him to run before he was eaten alive by this woman.

The feeling of being lost was quick as she seemed to come back at him, Urien had no choice but to throw his body back, turning to face her side on, hissing and spitting at her with outrage. Foolish poison wench! Lift your cocky tail elsewhere! Burn! Dragon fire will smite you - it will make you burn! On the other hand, perhaps he could start crying right here and now.

Was he too far away? If she took him now, would anyone hear him? Would the devil come for him, would he be saved? Thoughts were running rampant, and he could all but hear his chest bubbling up with the name. @Kjors would never be in reach if he needed the male, not really - it seemed like a bit of a phony illusion that protection had been offered. But there was no missing the reality, and his legs shook carefully.

Burn, burn I say! I'll summon him - I'll summon the devils and the dragons, and you can twist your chubby backside in their faces, not mine witch - indeed, not mine!

The snappy male backed away. Perfect! It took all the energy in the world to prevent her from grinning like some kind of fool. It was better for her in this case to keep her look as intense as she could, breaking into a smile would only reduce the seriousness of her appearance and in turn cause the male to lose some of the fear that shone in his eyes. Tail remained high, though her hackles slowly began to flatten with the distance now put between them. Her body was tight, like a viper waiting to strike. She hoped with that alone he would have cause to back further away. Talk of burning and dragons struck a cord that she chose not to acknowledge. She'd heard such nonsense before, and it irked her to know that there were still people that believed in creatures that could breathe fire. None had ever been seen and yet there were creatures out there who swore on their existence. It was as nonsensical as those that spoke of the mother of all or brother wolf. It was with a harsh shaking of her head that she dismissed the idea, leering at the male. Teeth still bared, but making no efforts to get any closer to him. Who could say whether he had any friends in the area. At least in this position, it didn't look like she was making an attack. "What dragons would you know, clown!?" Her voice was demanding, booming through the air in a way that would have caused a rattling in his lungs. There was intent behind her questions. She'd heard of dragons and pirates in her time, but none quite so vehemently as the son she had fled from. "Speak!" She demanded, and her hackles raised slightly again, with another crack of her teeth. "Speak or I shall tear out your tongue!"

The intensity was pulling at him, it was whispering and whimpering in ways that could not be explained. The woman who was before him was not something that he would have thought to otherwise embrace, but his heart was rampaging in his chest. It was making him utterly unsure of himself, and he found himself at a statement where the pass seemed to be making sense to him in ways that might not otherwise be detained. Lost, the male's head was swinging and he could not feel the ravaged moment on his tongue that meant he could be undoubtedly in trouble.

His tail swished, baiting and debating with a thousand things that were going through in his mind. While he would have prayed and hoped for a better outcome, this was not something he could begin to imagine, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth as he stated to defeat the thought that she was going to eat him. The expectation was that he was going to be murdered at any moment, and there was no missing the shine in his eyes.

Licker of the devils! It burns! Trickles alive - and it damns us all! The words were shouting at the other, and his fur was thick and could not be denied, fur puffing up as he hissed and spit with the intent that was singing on his tongue. As his tail swished from one side to the other, he was almost blatantly unable to stop the nasty grin, If the old crone doesn't know the story, then she's not a piece of it! She's a washed up woman! It was tumbling off her lips, knowing that there was things to be promised, and the arch of the neck was dominant on the matter.

@Kjors never would have allowed her to hear his name; and thus, Urien knew he should show something of minor allegiance. There was a strain in his eyes, but his tail swished and he found himself almost dancing toward her, still maintaining that sideways gait, head twisting awkwardly. Burn you with salt! Drown you in water! Witches drown, they drown!

What an oddity this male was. Scared to engage but too proud to flee. That he remained in that sideways positioning kept her at ease though. She was still at an advantage. She was still scaring him, even though his jaws flapped and words tumbled from his twisted tongue like rocks down a mountain. Fiery gaze never left his face as her body would turn and twist to keep her front towards him at all costs. In the back of her mind she wondered - was he just buying himself time before his friends could come and save him? The time had come to end this charade, before she found herself ambushed. "You question me?!" Head lowered slighlty, level with her shoulders as her face twisted into pure aggression with a half roar and a half bark that was exclaimed by a loud snap of teeth at the air above her head. Stupid boy. It's you that knows nothing!" Stepping forward once, then lunging at the air towards him with parted jaws that cracked together no more than two inches from his cheek. Fur bristled, hackles raised, lips curled and ears pinned. "I am a mother of dragons." She backed up slightly, but only to lunge forward with yet another threatening bite at the air. "Out of my domain!" Her voice was demanding, as though she actually laid some kind of claim to this otherwise neutral territory. "Out! Get out! Before I teach you what it means to feel a dragons fire!" Oh the things she would be prepared to do to see this male tuck his arrogant little tail and go running back into the comfort of whatever family he chose to reside with.

Grumbling under his breath, Urien was beginning to become annoyed. Who was this woman? She was... why, she was just as moody as he was! That would not do, that would not be what would make him seem to wake up and get himself in a better position. There was a tensity in his chest that knew he was going to have to react, and he was going to have to make sure that no one could doubt things for a few long stated moments.

When the female burst open wide, there was no reason that could not be denied for a moment. It was why there was not a second that could be shut down for even the sweetest of moments. He screeched at her, almost wordlessly, and there was no missing the paws that were throwing himself backward. It was not a single moment that could be doubted, and the absent look that was not that could be put to sleep. His fur was flying as he threw himself forward, running to behind her without doubt.

As he opened his mouth, he attempted to snap at her hind end as the panic roared. It was almost helpless, and his paws took him on a haul, screeching; I'll tell him! I-I'll sing the slayer's song, Kjors will say the dawn rings bloody, and the false prophet will fall! He shouted over his shoulder, but he kept running. Lost with the striking notion that could not be thrown into the emptiness. The willows were reaching for him, wanting to grope him and give him something to worry about.

The benefit, of course, as he ran was that the heaviness that was coming down to fall upon him. It was a loss that could not be shot, and his growl was rumbling out of his mouth as he went flying, tail out straight behind him as his legs spread and he could almost feel the energy as he broke the barrier of their confrontation. Oh hell. She was going to eat him alive. One way or another, he was going to get hurt over being so arrogant.

But she deserved it!