remember the gun and the damage it's done.

[Kaena Lykoi]

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http://sleepyglow.net/rp/kae/kae_razor.jpg); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat;"> Witch's Cauldron.     There was something distinctly different about the coyote hybrid as she left the city, stealing away in the very deadest hour of night. Her heart ached and her head split as if cleaved by a tomohawk. Maybe she shouldn't have allowed sex to happen between them, maybe she should have stood valiant to meet the jaws of death as they descended on her—but like any creature, Kaena was desperate for life. There was very little the hybrid would not do to survive, and having sex with Haku had allowed her to live another day. So, was it worth it? The coyote did not know for sure, but the acrid taste in her mouth burning up from her guttural center told her it was not.     At least this time there was no blood; at least he had been better than Kairo. The hybrid woman had not thought that name in some time before tonight, and she was not pleased to draw the parallel. For all ehr violence, the hybrid woman had not been violated in such a way since she was very small, and yes—she'd stopped struggling, she'd lay there and accepted him as any other consensual lover, and yes—she'd even derived pleasure from the moment, but it made it no less harder to think she had been taken not-completely-against-her-will, but partially, and in the eyes of some, even a partial lack of consent was enough to make the entire act atrocious.     The sound of the ocean grew in her ears, and with it the hybrid's pace increased until she was almost running, plunging into the familiar cold of the salt water. October had given the water a frigid chill, and the coyote woman could not suppress a shiver, though it was not entirely due to the cold. His smell was still there, covering her fur and coating her body, and he was still there, still slithering out of her legs in the slowest trickles. The coyote could not help but cry out, clutching at the rough sand beneath the waves with one silvery hand, drawing it over her coat, repeating the process again and again until the gritty stuff had rubbed the very skin beneath her fur was raw and ragged. Still the hints of his smell remained, so still she scrubbed feverishly. Some distant part of herself she thought she had lost cracked open again, spilling out with it weakness, childishness, the things Kairo had instilled in her that she had buried long ago resurfacing with the darkness that had just touched on her very soul.

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