[M] the places I could not see
#1
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WARNING This thread contains: strong language, starting with the 3rd post. Reader discretion is advised.

pray to your god, open your heart

Word Count: +3 ● FOR MY WOMAN. Foredated to 14 June

The incident with the bear had given Larkspur the reason he needed to fall into line, so to speak, and he had done so with ease. By splitting his ranked duties with the two other males, he was able to focus on his side projects. With the help of the quiet coyote, he had finished the fence well enough. Building a barn was a much slower process, but he had gotten a good amount of this done on his own already. Most of what remained was dealing with the roof, something he had to stall on while the summer storms rolled in and forced work to grind to a halt.

Today was no different, for the morning had been a torrent of rain and thunder that had passed after about an hour. Larkspur had slept through most of this, waking only when Salvia announced very loudly that she was taking Rowan and Axi to go play with her. Grateful that the two women had filled in as female-playmates in the absence of Wretch, Larkspur had gone back to sleep and only woken when his bladder filled to an uncomfortable level.

After relieving himself, he had set out on his regular patrols. He had been spending more time in his lupus form, sensing that his mare was remarkably close to giving birth. In truth, he aimed to finish the barn before this occurred. It wouldn’t be long, of course, but he would need another pair of hands to aid him. Maybe Tlanti’s cranky brother would do, provided he kept his mouth shut and focused on the task. A chuckle escaped the dark wolf as he trotted onward, heading north.

He reached the coast without any problem, and the gravely sand was well met by paws whose pads had been hardened to leather by their familiarity with the terrain. It was mid-afternoon and the remains of the storm were sweeping east, though clouds still lingered over the coastline and kept it gray.

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#2
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Word Count » 351

the world shudders as the worm gets its wings

Though the hybrid had not lived here long yet, she knew the territory intimately well, as she hoped her fellow packmates did. Even as busy as life had seemed to become, Eris had still the time to prowl the territories, learning its secret nooks and crannies as well as she could. There were no sprawling caves to become lost in here; everything was above-ground, so far as she could see. The deserted village was a favorite place for the coal hybrid to walk, but today she found herself along the northern coast, the salt spray of the ocean cool on the woman's face. Her mind worked tirelessly, as always, and today it considered her predicament. Desperate as she had been for children, they could not have come at a more precarious time. Salsola was just over a month since its inception. Her sable ears sat half-mast, and she wondered if their birth might strengthen their pack, or if it might bring about a far-premature end.

She had brought children into this world before, and she was aware of the drain on time and energy they were, precious resources they were. Eris herself would be laid up with them for at least two weeks, and perhaps more, if the end of her pregnancy proved trying. The coyote hybrid had known just a scant few days now, and it was perhaps it was that knowledge, certainty that she carried Larkspur's seed in her belly, that had driven her to seek out Ouija. She had told no one yet -- not Larkspur, not Ouija, not Sirius, and certainly not her other children. It was not a secret they sought further children, but the hybrid woman did think Larkspur deserved the knowledge before anyone else. He certainly deserved that much, at the least, and a strange guilt filled The Auxiliary as she saw his form moving up the coast, a hulking black shadow that seemed unmistakable in their ranks. Her yellow-green eyes followed his movement, and the Optime woman stepped toward him, her face strangely still for the news that would befall his ears momentarily.

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#3
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pray to your god, open your heart

Word Count: +3 ● German text is mature.

Here and there signs of life were apparent; crabs scuttled about in the shallow parts of the water and gulls wheeled above. There were few tracks, but this did not surprise Larkspur given the earlier weather. He paused to sniff a few of these, though the saltwater blocked most of the telling scents. They were not from a stranger, though, so he did not worry about any unwanted presence. To his surprise, the coyotes had not approached their borders at all. This pleased him immensely, given his dislike for the clan.

The noise of an approach caused the large wolf to lift his head. Eris had been busy with her duties as their Auxiliary, and Larkspur had accepted this as an excuse for her absence within their closely-shared homestead. Yet now as she approached and as that wind rose from the south, this ignorant thought was shattered in one fell swoop. The scent of Anathema was on her pelt, and with it, that of Ouija. Larkspur’s lips curled away from his teeth in disgust, knowing know what he had suspected the first time she had come home smelling of that strange man. Orange eyes flashed, burning the color of hot coals as the fur rose along the length of his spine.

“So that’s where y’run off to? Fucking that hurensohn?” The aggression in his body was echoed and magnified in his voice, which rose to a growling bark as he slipped into his native tongue. It would not have offended him so much if it had been any other man, but he despised the weak branch of his family and had made that point clear to her many times. For her to run off with that idiot was insulting, and stung what pride he had gained since Salsola’s creation deeply.

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#4
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Word Count » 317
<333

the world shudders as the worm gets its wings

The hybrid was not surprised at the anger. She had not known that it would come, but she had steeled herself for this. Half-heartedly dunking herself into a running stream, Eris held no secrets where Ouija was concerned, and she allowed his scent to permeate her pelt. Associating closely with him or not, she would not break her own rules -- their meeting was proclaimed loudly on her pelt, and she made it no secret. She was not going to betray Salsola to the outsiders, after all, and they had nothing to fear of gentle Ouija, who had been considered amongst their founders early on. Larkspur had known they were close, however, and perhaps he had known more than that, even. The she-wolf hadn't been particularly secretive, though now as his eyes blazed orange-red as fire, she almost wished she had been. Even as toothsome as he was in appearance and trust him as she did, his anger was frightening to behold.

The stone facade that had fallen across her dark face did not falter, however, and she admitted it with an indifferent word. “Maybe. I carry your children, what difference does it make to you who I lie with?” she said, albeit warily. There was confidence in her, but it was not bull-headed. She was not quite that arrogant, and she knew Larkspur well enough to fear his physical strength, though she figured herself above harm, carrying his children in her belly. She did not belong to him; they owed each other blood and, occasionally, body alone. Her chartreuse gaze regarded him with a coldness that seemed practiced, though the stare was not one she had utilized often before in her life. Though their quarrels as lovers or a couple or what the fuck ever they really were had nothing to do with rank, her gaze threatened it, though the threat remained unvoiced as of yet.

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#5
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pray to your god, open your heart

Word Count: ● German text is mature.

Until she spoke, the rumbling thunder in his chest was like that of the fading storm. It took only those few words to reignite the storm, which rose to a fever-high pitch as his face twisted into a savage snarl. She bore children, his children, and now she sought others? He didn’t believe this was the first time, even if she refused to confirm it. How could he, when she so unabashedly promoted her promiscuity in his face? Ivory teeth flashed as his tongue rolled, throwing at her the curses he had learned as a boy.

Du dumme schlampe, he spat, taking one stiff-legged step towards her. He did not trust himself, but he knew that if she truly bore his children he could not harm her. Not yet, anyway. “Are you even sure they are mien? Kruzitürken, Eris, you’ve undone everything we’ve worked for, you stupid slattern!” After all the rituals, all the observances to keep his gods happy, she had gone off in the dead of night and likely brought Tak’s fury down on their unformed children. She was playing with fire—the dark god had lost Larkspur but still held sway over him, and now thanks to this careless act he was given an open door to destroy the children the D’Angelo had put so much faith into.

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#6
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Word Count » 326

the world shudders as the worm gets its wings

She did not understand the words he spat at her, but she could feel their heat and smell their acrid venom on the very air. Her muzzle wrinkled at the very sound of them, chartreuse fire burning in her eyes, smoldering and slow in contrast to the explosive red-orange in his own gaze. There was a step toward her, but the coal hybrid held her ground, not so much twitching as tightening as she straightened to a proper height from her casual slouch, ears sweeping forward and head held high. Already, she was a sight taller than him in her Optime form, but she held no pretenses about her ability to defend herself. That task had fallen to Larkspur previously, and if he chose to turn on her, she would certainly be at the mercy of his fangs or the quickness of her other packmates. Sirius would defend her, she thought. Perhaps not -- it would have served her finely for the members of Salsola to find their loyalties with the pack rather than its replaceable Auxiliary.

“Piss on your gods,” she said, entirely calmly. She held no respect for his gods or anyone else's; those in Eterne were false, as were any others the hybrid had discovered. Her magic and her sight was more powerful than any sway the absentee gods held over the world. If anything, they had made the world and walked away -- she could attribute that alone to them. Maybe all the world was a creation of man and nothing more. Eris could not say. The only thing she knew definititively was that she bowed to no god and gave none credence. If any, the god she worshipped was one of pleasure, and this was not so much compulsory for the sable hybrid than instinctive and self-indulged. “They didn't do this for us, we did,” she asserted. “They are yours,” she said. There was no insistence in her voice, only certainty.

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#7
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pray to your god, open your heart

Word Count: ●

If he had been thinking sensibly, he would have realized what he was doing. Eris was no longer his equal, she was his superior. She could run off and whisper whatever she wanted to Sirius and he’d be out of the pack or killed. They would not enslave him—he had been in a similar position once and would kill to stay out of it again—but Larkspur did not wish to abandon his children, especially not to their mother. Yet as she spoke, the fury that engulfed him was all-consuming. Once before he had faced doubt, and that doubt had come back to kill his children. He would not allow this to repeat itself.

With a snarl, he lunged forward. Teeth snapped only once, coming down on her hand sharply before releasing. It was the effective canine-version of a slap, for he refused to touch her elsewhere. The pits of his eyes widened to gaping holes as the can tah screamed in his head. He knew what the consequences of blasphemy were. “Are you mad? Have you forgotten what they did to Harlowe?” A shrieking, furious scream of a true believer came from his throat. She had done more than insult him; she had effectively cursed the unformed children in her womb. “Mark me, you’ve damned them all!”

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#8
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Word Count » 443

the world shudders as the worm gets its wings

She had provoked him to madness, and she saw it too late; teeth flashed and closed around her hand before she could so much as move, and when he released her a moment later the hand was drawn to her chest, sharply pained and already seeping faint redness. Her chartreuse eyes paid it only a moments notice, her other hand holding onto it, and she peered down at him queerly, her head cocked to the side. He ranted and raved, and she bared her own teeth, fierce white against the sable of her face. Her chartreuse eyes now burned with just as much ferocity as his own, though there was something more feral in him and maybe more control in Eris, if only since she now realized she very well might be in danger if she prodded him anymore.

“Are you mad? Did you forget your place, Larkspur D'Angelo?” she said, stamping his name curtly to the end of her question. She did her best to loom over him, though even in his four-legged form he was massive, quite nearly outweighing her in her Optime form. “You don't own me, and I owe you only children, as you owe me. I don't care who you fuck, so why should you care who I fuck?” she asked, suddenly unable to keep her hardened exterior from cracking just a bit, the anger showing through plainly. Whether or not she had, it didn't matter -- he would try to dictate her actions, he had shown that plainly enough.

“Your gods can't touch us. The boy did that to himself. Or, you did it to him, even. But not your gods,” she repeated, refusing the idea that they were tainted. They were his, and they would not be tainted by her actions. They were untouchable, as was she. She drew a breath, and looked down at her hand, gazing down at it indifferently. She thrust it at him suddenly, offering it back to him with a cocked brow. A spatter of blood dripped from it and fell between them, bright and red against the pale, rocky sand.

“Clean me off,” she commanded. The blood leaked from a few shallow puncture ones there; it would hardly be enough to scar and it would not be long in healing, but it bled all the same. A faint ache had settled there in her hand, but she ignored it, instead directing her stoniest glare toward him, daring him to defy her demand. She was his leader, and she would forgive him his felony of bringing harm to her if he would only calm himself and make up for his trespass.

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#9
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pray to your god, open your heart

Word Count: ●

The threat in her tone served only to bring Larkspur back to his senses. His eyes widened with a start, recognizing that she was now pulling her rank over his head. She could cast him out without a second thought. She could take his children from him. Yet as she went on, he saw that the pretense of their relationship was one based only on their offspring. If that was what she desired, then it would be Eris who took the fall when the curse befell her children.

Her hand, bleeding that tainted whore blood, was forced into his face. The words she spoke were not a request, and he knew to disobey them would be treason. This was a fragile game he played. Unlike Eris, Larkspur would not risk his life to face the wrath of earthbound beasts. Slowly, he advanced. Slowly, he extended his neck and tongue, running the rough pink thing over the wound. Her blood tasted strange to him. He lowered his eyes and ears, giving her the satisfaction he knew she would desire.

She had already damned their children, in his eyes.

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#10
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Word Count » 503

the world shudders as the worm gets its wings

So this was power -- the ability to dictate what another did to their very actions, physical strength or not. She would not have beaten Larkspur if they had clashed, head to head. She might not have even been able to put so much as a scratch on the man; Eris was not experienced in the ways of fighting, and Larkspur outweighed and out-muscled her. Still, his ears and eyes dropped to the ground, the rage draining quickly from his demeanor as what might have been meekness instead settled over him. The hybrid watched him, caution thudding in her chest, though her exterior belied only cold calm.

She was not so foolish as to believe his anger had evaporated entirely; instead, the sable shaded woman's eyes followed him, narrowing in a ploy of suspicion. As the pale tongue lapped at her flesh, drawing the blood away from it, the hybrid shielded her surprise, masking it beyond that sneaking suspicious look. She had not expected him to acquiesce so quickly. Eris thought him a creature of blind instinct and simple accord. It did not surprise her that he would follow; the sable coyote hybrid had never considered him to be the type to lead, but she had expected more of a fight, more anger. He pleased her, now, more than she had expected, and he surprised her, too.

When he was done, the coal hybrid drew her hand back to herself and giving it a cursory and faintly disdainful glance, her chartreuse eyes were quick to roll back toward Larkspur, pointedly allowing the silence to stretch between them as she did. She knew what she intended to do, but he needn't know that -- the dark woman thought she might dangle him over uncertainty for at least a few minutes and provide him with discomfort. Her own nervousness had utterly disappeared, perhaps replaced by an overzealousness to enforce her pack's law and her own power, but she herself was not such a fool as to overstep herself, even here. Shove at Larkspur again, and he might not stop so easily.

“You will be my mate,” she said, finally, chartreuse eyes flickering to his white-tinged face to focus there, hardened gaze drawing on his own. Though the inverse obviously applied as well, the hybrid saw no need to be egalitarian. Larkspur would be hers; if the dark man fancied she belonged to him, that would be fine, as well, so long as he did not overstep his boundaries. “We will raise these children together, and we will pretend for all the world we are a proper couple. As for what you do in your own time, I don't give a fuck,” she said, rolling an indifferent shoulder. It did not matter to her where he put his dick, and she would not allow him to dictate whose dick went into her. So long as he might pretend for her, for Salvia and Pandemic, and for these new children brewing in her belly, it mattered not.

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#11
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pray to your god, open your heart

Word Count: ●

The will to fight was not as strong as the will to survive. He could fend off Eris, and possibly Sirius on his own, but he knew they were clever and they would use the strength of numbers to bring the bullish male down. His strength could only hold out for so long—the Khalif had nearly destroyed him when they came at him in force. Salsola was better trained. He feared the capabilities of the pack as much as he respected his Boss.

Eyes downcast, he awaited whatever fate she had in store. What she said startled him, and Larkspur looked up sharply. Another order, though this one was meant not for her own pleasure as so much for the sake of saving face. They would pretend, they would wear this mask, and whatever came beyond that would be of no consequence. Silently, he observed her. Silently, his eyes judged her for what he now recognized her to be. A whore, a spoiled brat, a woman who cared nothing except for her own selfish pleasures; Tak would find his way into her soul one way or another, if he had not done so already.

“Yes, princess,” It was a respectful title, but he spoke it with the subtle mockery that would perhaps be overlooked by others. “Do y’want me to tell Sirius, or would you like to?”

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#12
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Word Count » 327

the world shudders as the worm gets its wings

She would allow him his small japes, so long as he remained true. At the title, she could only grin, baring her white teeth in a wide and mocking grin. Princess was not quite as apt as it once might have been -- she was no youth; her mother did not reign above her. She was a queen, right and proper, and Salsola belonged to her and Sirius. Still, she did not correct him; he could call her what he liked, so long as he remained hers. She did not desire his love or affection; Eris might find this easily enough in the arms of another. She did, however, demand his loyalty, as his leader and as the mother of his children. Love she would not require from him, if he was even capable of it. The sable-hued hybrid still did not know whether he was or was not; he had shown her affection, of course, but she had not been satisfied. Perhaps that task in and of itself would prove impossible -- perhaps she was beyond satisfaction.

“Tell Sirius, if you'd like,” she said, flatly. She did not care what Larkspur chose to do -- she did not think he would seek Sirius out specifically, but it hardly mattered to her. Sirius would, in all likelihood, find pleasure in the idea that Salsola had a pair of mates with child already, but little else. She had not missed all of the side-long glances her nephew had given over to her, nor had she spared him any of her own. She would tell him herself, in good time, if Larkspur did not; it was unlikely Siri even needed to be informed. Her mouth curved into a smile, and she reached for him slowly with that same bloodied hand. Her fingers reached to stroke the fur of his mane, though whether he would flinch away or stand his ground, she could not say. She did not particularly care.

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#13
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pray to your god, open your heart

Word Count: ●

She thought herself superior, mighty, and for the time being she was. Without Larkspur, she would have floated with nothing to ground her. Haku had seen her potential but now the orange-eyed male wondered if he had been wrong. Maybe his faith in the dead man had blinded him. Maybe the fact that Eris, in her physical appearance, reminded him of Misery blinded him. He did not think of these things, for his mind was focused now on what it was he would need to do to survive. They would pretend. Eris would flaunt and wear her crown and leave her soon-to-be mate in the dust as if he was little more than a slave.

Emotionlessly, he lowered his head and stared at the ground between her feet. This changed so many things for him, and panic had only served to cause him to retreat inward. The voice of the can tah, the voice of the little god, of Tak, of the unformed and unclean, it whispered to him and promised retribution. He feared that more for the sake of the whore-children in her belly. If they were his, he knew that Tak would without a doubt strike twice as fierce; the earth god had special torture for his followers.

A hand touched him, but he did not feel. He barely recognized her presence anymore, and allowed her to treat him as a dog. Things had changed. The thunder rumbled behind him, over the mountain, and he shut his eyes and sighed. He said nothing. She did not believe and she would not listen. One day she would; this the can tah whispered with an especially cruel voice.

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