the ragged, noxious weed
#1
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Word Count » -- :: <3


He waited for her, between the spires of pine and brush, the thick waving of springferns and the cold dampness of earth. Four paws held fast to the world, for they would be faster than the preferable two - As fast as the wind, she who teased his dark hair and sharp wit.


The woman, the one he waited for, was darker still - She had been kissed by the nighttime, a lover to the midnight hours. As he thought of her, the Hunter's blood ran hot and fast. Dawn caressed a pale sky, and with tenderness had begun to unfurl the baited sun; But they had time, time of shadows and darkness yet, time to slip away into the plans that they had made.


Impatiently, he scented the air, and the chemical lime of his eyes glowed acid and mineral as only the eyes of a Wolf truly can. Large ears were stiff, pressed forward to catch the sounds of paws that would herald the coming of the night-mistress. She irked him with her lateness, but secrecy was prudent, and the calculative one could only remain cloaked in the forest's folds. They had met on this spot before, many a time, in the harmless hunting trips that had born real fruit from the flesh of two hungry minds.


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#2
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Word Count → 390 Oops nvm long posts. :\


Leaving, leaving, leaving -- the thought pounded in her head and sang in her blood, lifting her steps with carefree and outright joy once she'd cleared the more dangerous area of the caves. Their proximity to the edge of Anathema's territory was good, she thought -- for her, anyway. Easily defensible as they were, she might have preferred them smack in the middle of their large territory. The earth itself could not be moved, however, and she did not disagree with the choice of holding their backs to the ocean. It was a respectable stance, and one she rather hoped to emulate.


Her Optime hand reached behind her neck and loosened the the spiral necklace's cord. The gris-gris was always loose enough that it did not require adjustment when she shifted. Neither were noisy accompaniments and the hybrid was glad for that. She fell forward awkwardly onto her hands as she shifted, halting her movement for a moment and stretching her neck, shaking her thick fur out. It did not displease her to shift, but she preferred the dexterity of her Optime hands in most instances. Still, this form was unbeatable for running -- the heavier Secui hardly had a use, in Eris's eyes.


The hybrid, epigamic regardless of form, slid through the night quickly, her movements graceful and light in running despite the size of her Lupus form. Her gait was perhaps the most coyote thing about her; for her appearance, she ought to have had the heavier lope of a wolf. The sable canine kept a wide berth from Inferni as always. She was not so pleased that they would be neighbors, but she did not think they posed a threat. If her family was to pursue her, they would have already. Eris herself had no desire to associate with them, whether amiably or maliciously. Indifference suited her just fine.


She found his scent after some time and followed it, decreasing her gait as the foliage thickened. Spring had brought with it the thick tangle of undergrowth again, the very same that had been present upon her arrival in Inferni. Had it been a year? The thoughts were cut short as she approached, darting her head earthward and her ears backward in apology but offering no verbal explanation for her lateness. Caution was needed -- he understood that.

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#3
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Word Count » -- :: haha, oh sie <3 slight pp, am sorry :x


At last the forest rewarded his vigilance, and Eris bloomed from the deep shadows. Her sable pelt was thick and handsome, but unlike her bulky form might suggest, the woman's step was light, almost silent. Had he taught her that, on such hunting trips? A sharp crocodile smile, familiar to those who pleased him, rewarded the Fae for her appearance.


Tail raised high, the male circled her once, as canine were wont to do. He paused to rub his cheek against hers, on one side and then the other - A strange secret greeting they had taken to, after all those early mornings spent together. The Revlis man held a dominant posture, although not overly so; Eris was as near his equal in this no-mans-land as any beast could seek to be.


Without words, he turned from her, and slipped back into the cool shadows. Like strange distended smoke, the pair seemed to melt from sight, perfectly adapted in their pelts to this half-dark world. When finally he stopped, they stood on the New land, the land that was soon - so soon, so soon! - to be theirs. He could tell where the invisible border was by the sudden presence of the thistle plant, and tender paws were careful to avoid these barbed weeds. The Hunter's eyes looked to his companion, and they were full of anticipation. There was a strange crackling within his body, bones shifting and popping into a new structure. Sirius stood tall on two legs, and waited a moment for the tiredness the shift produced to ebb from his new limbs.


Long dark hair, unusually unkempt and unruly, danced about the sharp crocodile grin he wore. "We're here." One surprisingly elegant hand swung back in a vicious movement, then forward to rake wicked claws against the bark of the nearest tree, leaving five neat trenches torn into its flesh.


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#4
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Word Count » 420

my road to hell is surely paved

She kept her head down as he circled around her, though her eyes followed the wavering flag of his raised tail surreptitiously, flickering down as he passed out of her peripheral. There had never been a question in the hybrid's mind who the leader of the pair was; though she sometimes managed to strike at it with the occasional banter, she was not so self-absorbed and vain as to fail to recognize truer intelligence than her own, more strength than her own, more skill than her own. Sirius would best her in nearly every arena, she thought, and there was no reason to seek leadership when there was a more qualified individual, one she held respect for and, in their strange and distant way, blood.


The hybrid woman could not contain a shiver of excitement as his muzzle rubbed against hers, and she pushed back against him, whisking her lowered tail from side to side. It was not tucked in the position of abject submission, but rather held at an easy position beneath his, sure of her own place. Eris enjoyed structure, it seemed, and the sable hybrid found herself a companion in Sirius. With that, they were off, sliding easily through the darkness and seeming to be a piece of it, even. They picked their way over the thorns, and the sable hybrid peered around, chartreuse eyes wide with interest.


The crack and creak of bone beside her caused her to turn and glance at Sirius, shifting in tune with him without much of a thought. Her own process was sloppy and ill-thought out, finding little ability within herself to control the shift. She had never bothered; it was rarely awkward enough to cause her trouble. She stood beside him, and despite their disparity in size, the coal woman's head was still held lower than his, unwilling to raise it to full height in his presence. Whether or not they already lived here, the hierarchy was clear in the woman's mind. He spoke and introduced her to the land, slicing his claws through the bark of a nearby tree in their first marking, and the hybrid raised her eyebrows and her lips in a grin.


Eris pranced forward in a move fit for a callithump, her tail sweeping back and forth in wide strokes of enjoyment, her feet lifting off the ground while her arms wavered in excitement. “Perfect,” she said. Though still uncomfortable with the distance from Inferni, she did not think the coyotes would disrespect their border.

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#5
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Word Count » -- :: huminahumina


She held an air of submission, the rarely subdued charcoal woman. She had accepted him as her leader long before this cold hard dawn, but their relationship would always remain firm in spite of ranking and arguments. Apart from Naniko, Eris was the male's only true family - He had accepted her beyond blood, into the place of all redemption within his cold ribcage.


Sharp lime eyes assessed her in silent pleasure, and his thick tail wagged once, held loftily high behind the dark spires marking his spine. When the Fae had followed him into her civilized form, his eyes left her again, surveying the tundra with that strange air of poisonous excitement. The New land beckoned - They had been here before, but briefly; Eris knew the land in scattered pockets from her childhood, and the first trips made here he had followed her. They had slipped, slick shadows, between swamp-like groves and thistle-thick forests, found the skeletal remains of a castle and howled their claim into the ferocious ocean wind. This world was different from Anathema - it was secretive, exposed to the cruelty of weather and time, tortured by sea and mountain alike. It had called deeply to Sirius, and ever since the pair had stood amongst the ruins, he had craved it like a sweet seductress.


Eris' voice awoke him from the intense and building anticipation, and calculative eyes softened to watch her joyous acceptance of the land. He was not a robot, after all, and could find merciful joy in the curves of her body, and the excitement within her chartreuse eyes. It was contagious, and he grinned sharply, yellowed teeth glittering quickly within the shadows of the man's face.


However, celebration was revoked as the Revlis man's face became stern once more. Ears pricked alertly, and he crouched on his heels, leaning forward to take one of the spindly plants within his grasp and plucking it from its stem with a quick swipe of dark claws. Without looking at Eris, Sirius commanded her attention with a low-uttered Uff, rising once more to his full height. The plant was held in his fist, which he then opened carefully - one of the little barbs had pricked into the tender skin of his exposed palm, and a small pinprick of bright red welled there. The sharp smile returned. "I have named this place Salsola," Cunning gaze lingered a moment more on his open palm, before lifting to the dark shaman. "Salsola, home of The Family."


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#6
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Word Count » 345

my road to hell is surely paved

The hybrid rarely stopped to question relationships; they unfolded and were as they were, and she did not dedicate thought to them. The odd, distant blood between herself and Sirius that made them closer family than her immediate half-siblings in her mind, her strange balance with Ouija, somewhere between friendship and outright sexuality in her mind -- these things were not given much thought to even when her mind was not occupied.


The one she thought of most, perhaps as expected, was Larkspur. The awkwardness of their relationship bothered her the most, as she spent time with him. She did not find him intelligent and the awkwardness in their interactions stuck in her mind the most. She felt she did not truly know him, and though she loved her children, she questioned whether she loved him. It seemed expected of them; they had children together. Maybe it was simply social pressure keeping them together, even.


These thoughts were far from her head as she reveled in this place, not entirely unfamiliar to her but still rife with unexplored nooks and crannies, secret places they would steadily uncover in the coming months. She looked to Sirius at the bark, though her eyes did not meet his any longer, and quickly stalked back toward him, peering down at what he held in his hand with interest, bright and pleased with the appearance of the spiny weed along their borders. He spoke, and she simply nodded her approval, gazing to his palm and moving to pluck the thing from his hand carefully.


When she removed it, she saw the drop of blood there, and her free hand without the clutched thistle moved beneath his, and pushed it up toward her muzzle, gingerly licking the blood away from Sirius's padded palm. Her teeth showed in another grin, and she removed her hand from his slowly, not allowing for his hand to simply drop away. “I like it. It's Italian? What does it mean?” she asked, assuming it would be -- it did not sound like a word she knew.

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#7
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Word Count » -- :: <3


She held a sweet interest in his actions, and in the prickled bud he revealed to her. Eris had lost much to the world they knew, and yet she was a resilient creature, as hardy and adaptable as the weed he had named the New land for. Eyes appraised her, the chemical green filled with a cool approval to the feel of her tongue rasping along the miniscule wound, lapping up the small bead of life fluid there.


She was different, but they were both different, and it was a trait he valued highly. There was much of the dark-furred woman that Sirius would never understand, such as her choice of a life-partner; Larkspur had always seemed far too dimwitted to suit the canny Fae before him, and yet she had allowed him her body with which to breed. However, their blood mixed produced pleasing stock - Spawn which Sirius himself had begun to groom. They were Family, and their uncle could prove to be a doting one when the mood struck him.


Even more valuable was Eris' ability to attract the right sort of individuals. While Sirius may have been the brains behind their scheme, he could not claim credit for the list of suitable candidates she had produced, most prominently, the Kimaris woman, Tlantli. Thoughts of her provoked a similar burning within his stomach as thoughts of Salsola often did. She was another creature he wished to possess. There were others - The fallen prince, Itachi Lykoi, perhaps even the golden-haired princess of his blood. Together, Sirius and Eris had chosen the selective few, those who were worthy of the New life they would create.


Her question was rewarded with a docile smile, although the man's eyes remained, as always, sharp and calculative. "Correct, my dear," His silky tenor tones praised her astuteness, "It means thistle, the barbed weed you hold. Such a perfect plant - Almost flawless in design." His thoughts meandered, as eyes looked to the jagged clumps around them. Strange that it did not grow so frequently, further to the South. Perhaps the soil here was only fertile for those of barbed design.


Briskly, the man turned from Eris, and began to gather and armful of the sharp plants. They scratched at the fur of his arms and torso, and he held them gently, as he might have held a lover. "Help me gather some - Enough for each member of the Family. We will put a stalk in their dens, as soon as the time has come."


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#8
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Word Count » 307 eri creepin on yo siri

my road to hell is surely paved

She might have figured out the meaning of the word from the context clues; however, Eris was not at all inclined toward foreign language. Had she any desire to learn any language, she might have picked up Spanish in Eterne -- however, she hadn't bothered, and she still did not quite grasp anything of the language outside the sparsest, most scant phrase. Salvia's babbling was utterly beyond her, as was Molcaxitl's. The hybrid was lucky to have at least figured the word to be Italian from Sirius's knowledge of the language -- the meaning needed to be revealed to her.


“I do like it,” she said, finding little else to add for her agreement.Her chartreuse eyes followed the swell of his shoulder, the curve of his neck, but never did she meet his eyes directly. In the periphery of her vision, she could see his apple-shaded eyes there, glittering intelligent and calculating as always, never dull or confused as she had seen them. A slow smile spread across her face, and her eyes dropped once again to the ground as he instructed her, nodding her agreement. It would be a quiet way to reveal to them all that the time had come.


Quickly, she turned from him and bent to the earth, leaning forward in such a way that his eyes might catch hold of her and appreciate her form rather than the simpler (and easier) way of simply kneeling on the earth. Her thick optime hair, unkempt and uncut for some months now, fell around her head and obscured parts of it, though she brushed it back and behind her head and shoulders so it did not catch in the barbs of the thistle. Her own gaze occasionally turned back to him furtively, both observing him as well as whether he was looking at her.

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#9
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Word Count » -- :: <3


The woman had many skills, and languages were not one of them. Sirius accepted this, as he had accepted the charcoal shaman fully - Her life was meant for luxury and power. While he held her tight to the pedestal of leadership they intended to take, Eris would never require the skill of speaking another language. There would be those who, at her beck and whim, could do such a thing for her.


Along the same train of thought, he needn't necessarily have taught her to hunt - But that was a different entity in the umber male's train of thought. She had needed that skill; not for lone living, per say, for Sirius was very much attached to her and well equipped to hunt enough for them both. In the event that he could not, the male knew that her choice in partners, the oaf Larkspur, was dedicated to her beyond his understanding. No, the Revlis man had taught her how to hunt to prove to the woman that in spite of her pampered lifestyle, her whimsical yet often disturbing nature, she still had the ability to learn, and the ability to survive. He was confident now that, if the situation some day arose, Eris would be able to provide food for her spawn. She would not die where others might. She belonged to him now, and he could not bear the thought of anything less.


It was like an insurance policy that his calculative mind had divined. The sable-hued shaman had not resisted, for in her lowly rank at Anathema, it had been embarrassing to have no hunting skills. They had developed such a strange lust for secrecy, in those times spent together, and it had been an addictive source of energy, the need to remain eloped and mysterious. Such qualities, the leaders would be sure to breath into Salsola, for it was in their essence and it would soon be theirs to rule.


She was appropriately diminutive, something which flattered the self-assured ochre male. He was pleased to find that Eris' submissiveness did not detract from her energy, the strange essence of otherworldly intent that clung to her pelt. It created a strange burning within him, looking at her downcast expression, that the male was quick to recognize as attraction. Being no ignorant fool to the porous stirrings of lust, the male hastened somewhat to focus his attention on the gathering of the weeds.


Not long after, the Revlis man announced that they had gathered enough. Careful to keep his canny glances from straying to the fertile swell of her hips, the man briskly directed them back to the caves - Under the secrecy that fit so well to their darkened pelts, they would return to the undergrounds of the Old world, and dream dark and dazzling dreams of the lure that awaited them with spiny barbs.


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