The night was just a shade yellower than dark. A smirk of the horizon had smudged itself above the sea in the distance. The dawn collected between the tree trunks and bled into the canopy of bare branches. Winter chill nipped and greedily parted her fur to taste her skin and bones. She paused, taking a look behind her at the reddened water rippling outside the dim cover of the trees. It reminded her of blood. So she kept walking.
The innovative area smelled stiff and sharp, like poisonous herbs. Lana listened to the dulled echo of her satchel as it hit the mud and slouched against the trunk of a bending pine. She followed after it, sinking to the ground and letting her lids close over her rebellious amber irises. Her breathing slowed after a minute. In one quick, skilled motion, a cigarette was pressed between her criminal lips. The smoke unfurled from the end in a welcoming blue – similar to the berry tipped finish. Flavor burst onto her tongue followed by the melting sensation of the smoke. It filled the emptiness beside her lungs where a heart should be.
Without flinching, she felt familiar weight began pressing against her thigh. Cas rolled alongside her knee, staring up into her guarded features until she revealed her orange glower to the air again. Lana nodded at her companion, hesitantly taking the cigarette between her dark russet fingers. They would wait, as her pride would not call upon anyone to assist her. Frost laced the dark undergrowth and shivered in the bitter ocean wind. Another tint of yellow tossed and danced atop the grayness of winter.
One more place left behind and one more jar filled. The idea exhausted the woman and suddenly her fingers burned with the cold. She pressed them against the lynx’s fur, ignoring her swift purr. Blazing gaze drifted off as she inhaled another bittersweet taste of the cigarette. The hand in her companion’s fur raced down Cas’s side and against her heart before placing the same hand on the scar that adorned her own chest. There was a blunt thud behind her fingers that made her whole arm ache.
A gory sunset awaited the King as he strode from the confines of his royal chamber. Crisp air filled cramped lungs, and he breathed deeply and heavily, sucking in the taste and scent of his kingdom. A rogue wind tousled dark raven locks, spilling them forward over eyes of acid peagreen and deep venomous olive.
A moon-lit steed awaited him, her pelt dyed bloody by the rays of a murdered sun. The monarch eyed his beast a moment, his thin black lips lifting in lopsided pleasure at the beauty of her dappled silver pelt, her pretty dished head. He was an addict to visual appeal, a slave for the desires of the eyes to gaze upon wondrous and pretty things - Perhaps, his only weakness.
He mounted fluidly, a movement well-practised. The mare tossed her silken locks, but beneath his stern hand she calmed, and burst eagerly into a gallop at his command. The monarch's dark coat, a thick brown bear-pelt, flapped and rustled like dark wings as it bannered in the wind.
They rode unruly, wild and unconstrained, a dark master and a ray of moonlight stolen from the breast of the moon herself. He lorded over the unruly terrain, the wickedness of a land made rough by ocean and mountain alike. The Thistle King and his people suited this terrain - They were as gnarled and twisted as the roots of its trees, as powerful as its shores and as sharp as its thorns.
It was a scent, brought to him by the wayward and teasing zephyr, that made the dark and brooding man pull the horse up from its reckless flight. Luna danced and snorted beneath him, unsure why he had commanded such an immediate halt. The man's dark nose twisted, and his black lips peeled back slightly to show a glimmer of yellowed fangs. Intruder? Guiding the mare with the pressure of his thighs, he followed the wind, and came upon a woman sunk by the base of an old pine.
She surely would have heard his approach, for light as she was, the horse's silver hooves crunched the winter frost with each step. Steam furled from its nostrils, matching the ghostly hue of the smoke that curled from the cigarette in the stranger's fingers. Her features were concealed as she sat, and though he desired a better view of her, Sirius did not dismount. His cloak settled heavily over his shoulders and flowed over the haunches of the mare, rustling like feathers furling against one another. "What have we here?" Came the silky voice, a poisonous charm that oozed with deadly intend from between yellowed daggers. He offered no smile - Merely a hard, unreadable gaze that took in the woman and her feline companion coldly.
So here he was. The man with the feral scowl and exaggerated apparel, who sat upon his steed like he was riding the night. Lana gave him her own judgmental grin, slightly curling under curious eyes. She sucked on her cigarette once more before taking in the odd couple through a haze of dark smoke. Horizon washed over the horse’s pelt, burning it to a shimmering crimson.
“Quite the … entrata,”
The woman said, her striking accent fatally shaping each one of her words. She narrowed her flaming eyes before standing and twisting her cigarette between dark fingers.
Of course, she was referring to the irritable pounding of the horse’s hooves as the two approached. Bellow the large feet of the mare frost parted and quaked. However, Lana looked on skeptically and drew her skilled fingers nonchalantly across the equine’s neck and flank. She completed her circle at the opposite side of the wild beast that sat atop the humanity. His question remained in the air as the wanderer twisted a silver lock of the mare’s mane before returning her interest to her cigarette.
“I found myself in your area and require a place to stay,”
Lana purred, her tone edged with natural sarcasm. Amber eyes caught the pale jade of the lynx’s. She stood soundlessly, hardly taking any interest in the newcomers and instead fastening her whitened grip on the satchel. The woman took it from her and trailed a black nail from the feline's cheek to her chin.
“I am a guaritore … a healer,”
She added and turned back around, dauntlessly meeting the man’s rigid glare. The edges of her vision pulsed with the battle of night against morning. Cas rubbed on her knee, finally registering the possible threat of the strangers. Lana felt no tinge of fear, just nothing. And she cursed it.
The woman didn't seem at all phased by his appearance, as though, inexplicable though it was, she had simply been waiting for him to arrive. The monarch's eyes narrowed. She wasn't at all familiar, even when her head lifted and through the small puff of smoke he could see her sharp orange eyes. Dark brows furrowed momentarily, but he remained still and silent as she approached, a flicker of emotion passing over his brooding features as large coyote ears heard her tongue caress the Italian language. It had been so long since he had heard anyone speak it - Apart from his own succulent tones, that was.
His poisonous gaze grew sharper as she approached his steed, but the silvery mare allowed her neck to be stroked by the stranger, offering her only a soft nicker and a swish of her long silky tail as fingertips traced over her flank. Sirius sat stiffly, his feelings of unease, irritation and curiosity expertly concealed by an expression of mild interest. "Tu parli italiano? How curious," The monarch's tones were warm and succulent, like oozing caramel, but his black lips curled up in a smile to show sharp, yellowed teeth.
The woman's tones continued, her voice a husky purr that simmered deep within him. Sirius had always found beautiful women temptating, and this Fae seemed to be no exception. The King's venomous eyes openly traced her features, brashly and boldly examining the handsome curves of her feminine form. His dark pupils followed as she turned to face the feline that had arisen, and brought to her a satchel. The man's eyes lingered on the bag, innately curious as to it's contents, before lifting up to meet again the gaze of the stranger.
A healer... He considered her in silence a moment, before shifting to unclasp the round golden pendant that held the bear-cloak together at his throat. "Perhaps you are of value to me, then, signora," Drawing the cloak around his shoulders, he smoothly tossed it in the direction of the woman. "I will have no use of you if you are frozen." His eyes glittered with dark amusement. There was a deadly chill to the air; While he felt little mercy for those who lingered beyond the thistle borders, it would have been a shame to leave such a pretty minx alone out here to freeze. His bearcloak still radiated with the King's warmth, and was heavily laden with his own dominant scent. The man's narrowed gaze graced her skeptically once more - She didn't seem injured, but the cold winter could sap energy from anyone who thought to wander the darkness alone. "Come ben si può camminare? My den is not far from here, and it seems we have a little... Talking to do."
Welcome to Salsola! As a new member of the pack, you're ranked as an Associate. We strongly encourage you to read over the Associates page of our website for further information about your rank, promotions, and other relevant things.
As a new member, why not:
Start plotting with your fellow members -- start or join an Open Thread on Salsola territory.
Figure out if your character wants the Cotona ritual to take place, and where on their body they'd like the scar.
Figure out which of the co-ranks you'd like and let the leadership know which you'd like to join.
Check out our pack game and start earning points! You can claim a residence in the Borgatas Colotl or Coatl after 50 points in the pack game (note: residences outside these two areas are free).
Familiarize yourself with the pack's leaders and make sure you contact one of us if you encounter any sort of difficulty or require any assistance. You can send us a Private Messages or post to the Salsola Maintenance thread.
