[M] Blood and Feathers
#1
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WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.
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WC: 248 OOC: Niro is optime, wearing a belt with assorted pouches, gloves and a knife.

A good deed done. He had found a poor nestling owlet calling for its mother and Niro had come instead, but he couldn’t take care of it right away, resources he had didn’t help him and he knew that the bird would have died if he hadn’t given it to the woman from Anathema. She seemed worthy enough to take care of the poor thing and he hoped it would live through the night, because that was the make or break deal. Grinning Niro found his perfect camp spot. It was dark out as he was making his liesurely way back home, he was in no hurry and Amaranth was doing well with the kids, if not Ayita would come in and take care of them while he was away. He had his other children to look after through mere visits. He wished he had more time with them, but a pup had to grow up and leave the nest.

He settled down, happily fed on a nice rabbit that Marahute caught earlier in the day. She was nestled in the highest tree close to Niro and he, himself let his eyes close. Marahute would warn him if he was in danger, she was such a light sleeper... Unfortunately for him the bird had been tired from the journey and fallen into a deep sleep herself. His dreams were pleasant and he let his guard down, a deadly mistake for a lone wolf with no lookout.

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Table by Meghann!

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#2
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Word Count :: 542 >:3

Being cooped up within Anathema’s borders was becoming more and more exhausting. Lillith felt useless there, and despite the pack being notorious for outcasts, she, like her parents, felt like an outcast among outcasts, but for a very different reason. The young bitch’s fascination and near obsession with death and killing was beginning to get to a point where she could not hide it within the caves of her home, so she often wandered beyond the borders to satiate her nefarious hunger. Her game had become more advanced now, no longer reserved to the mice and bats of the caves; now Lillith hunted larger creatures; dear, badgers, birds; anything that would give her a challenge. She had even managed to kill several more foxes, but like a strong drug she was never able to recapture the excitement of her first kill. Lillith was getting bored.

Today, the crimson woman stalked through the wild woods near Anathema. She was now completely used to her two legged form, and never strayed back to her weaker four legged one. She was tall, extremely skinny, narrow as a rod, and stringy, but she was sheer footed with a dark glow in her hazel eyes. Her mother and friend Grace had twisted the long strands of her otherwise silky hair into clean dread locks, and these were secured upright behind her with a thick scarf. She felt beautiful, strong, and deadly today.

She was on the trail of a hawk, who seemed to have alighted in the trees a half-mile or so away from her, and she was slowly and deliberately heading in its direction. She had killed many flying creatures before, starting with insects when she was a small pup, moving to bats, then birds, then owls and even ravens. She knew how to string up a bird, and she was excellent at snaking her way up trees, so she was confident that she could catch the large bird of prey she had seen earlier. But as she neared, the distinct smell of wolf came to her nose, and then, the soft sound of heavy, sleeping breaths. Cautiously, she removed the long strips of leather chord, as well as the two bone daggers she carried, from where they were tied on her waist.

She crept silently towards the sound, and what she found when the man finally came into view was a sleeping Luperci; a white Luperci male with a ridiculous hairdo and above him in the trees, the hawk. But the bird was no longer her game, no, something within her bubbled up when she looked at this sleeping man, a fire that began in her stomach and spread to other parts of her. She wanted this man, he did not smell of Anathema, nor any other pack she recognized. Lillith was going to murder him.

Quickly, but carefully and with measured movements, Lillith moved around the man, using the leather strips to tie his torso and arms to the tree. Unfortunately, she did not have enough chord to tie his legs, she would have to immobilize him some other way. After a moment’s thought, the ruby mistress drew one of her daggers, and quickly cut through the flesh and tendon of the man’s ankle.


Textures courtesy of JakezDaniel, tExTuReMaTtIc, Sirius-sdz &wchild original image from Wolf’s Rain

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#3
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WC: 358


His dream was a good one. He was at home and his children were all puppies. It never occurred to him at the time that not all of them were the same age but all six of them were there, playing with him, roughhousing, trying to pin him down. He laughed as he brushed the pups off. There were far too many though and they were all swarming all over him. Then he felt Heiro bounc right on his chest, giving him a constricted feeling. That was when things turned for the worse. Right in front of him everything turned white hot and as suddenly as they had appeared they all vanished. He knew they were gone, not just off in their own place, making their own life, no they were gone for good not coming back and he was falling.

That was when he felt real pain. His eyes shot open with a mix between a bark, howl, whine and growl. Everything when white again as he tried to move his legs, he couldn’t move either, and all he knew was something had hurt him. was it a snake that bit him and paralyzed him? He htought as he struggled to move his arm and legs. His head swivveled to and fro then he caught sight of red and it was the face of a wolf, or was it a wolf? Everything was blurry from tears.

“Can you help me. I think I was bit, please.”

He started to plead then the realization came to him as his mind gathered together, He was tied up, to the tree he had been laying against. And it had been whoever this was that was doing this to him. Marahute had woken from his cry of pain, and his mind whirled as the man was fearing more for his bird daughter’s life than his own. He tried mustering himself out of the absolute pain he was in to tell her to go find help. But now he was unable to move, to think clearly to try and find escape... he was a sitting duck.

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Table by Arda

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#4
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Word Count :: 389 OOC.

The cut was deep and clean and blood bubbled out like a babbling brook and the smell of it filled Lillith’s head and her pulse rose. It was such an invigorating feeling that she completely forgot to cut the other ankle, and instead became enthralled in the male’s half-asleep struggling. She watched with glee as his eyes filled with tears and he cried out to her to help. She nearly giggled with elation; what was it like to be as injured as he, as helpless as he? She didn’t know, though part of her wanted to, someday. But now, she was the one in charge, and the power of it was amazing!

Lillith said nothing but moved up to straddle the ivory man. Oh how silly his hair was, and suddenly, she found her mood dropping. She had to get rid of it, so she slipped the clean on of her two daggers cleanly through his tresses, removing the majority of the spiky hair and the silly feathers therein. She clutched the mass in her fist and set it gently to the ground beside them; it would be a trophy, if she didn’t decide to cut the rest of him up.

She turned back to him, looking to cut more the hair off when she noticed small, intricate lines moving across his face. They were scars, and at first, Lillith just let her long, sharp nails dance over the four of them. They were beautiful, but they would be even more lovely when bleeding. Therefore, she dug her nails into his flesh and dragged them down along all four lines, reopening them. The blood poured out, and she could not help but to lick at it. The tangy, metallic taste hit her tongue and it was if her whole body came alive. She wanted more!

The burning that had begun in her stomach suddenly found a new place to reside; in her loins. The tickling, agonizing sensation drove her wild, and she nearly purred as she lowered herself onto his body. If only he had been aroused as she was, she would have made love to him, but the lack of an erect appendage made this impossible. So instead, she rocked her hips back and forth against his pelvic bone, trying to alleviate the tension she felt within her.


Textures courtesy of JakezDaniel, tExTuReMaTtIc, Sirius-sdz &wchild original image from Wolf’s Rain

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#5
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WC: 378


His movement impaired Niro could only watch. He bared his teeth as she moved closer and straddled him, but it did nothing, he tried pulling away as she cut his precious hair off and set it aside. Though that was nothing compared to what she could have done. And his thoughts seemed to be read as she stared into his face, he looking at her to see what her next move would be, and yet he couldn’t do anything about it. The moment when she started carving into his face with her claws was possibly the worst moment of his life, far worse than his pinky being taken or the paw coming at his face. This was slow, deliberate and he tried pulling away, snapping at her, and he could feel the blood well up over his face. The feel of her tongue against his his face made him feel tainted, and again he tried attacking her with his head, but if he got something he didn’t know the pain numbed his face, his eyes were closed as blood was now seeping down his brow and rolling over his eye.

What happened next was not something that he would even wish on his worst enemy... as the woman seemed to be aroused by her acts and started pressing herself on him. The back and forth motion made him think of the sea, and that same nauseous feeling came to him and he pressed himself as far away from her as he could, though there wasn’t far to go, he felt sick, tainted, uncleansable and helpless. He tried forcing the pain down to get her off him to do ANYTHING! How could this happen, who would want to do this? The red panda like face was burned into his mind as he thought these questions, and he growled, though even htat hurt as his yells and howls and screams of pain tortured his throat. His life was surely going to come to an end, though the man wouldn’t go without a fight, what could he do though? What little strength he had, he thrust his body against his bind to try to throw the woman off her, to show her he wasn’t going to play her game.

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Table by Arda

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#6
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Word Count :: 348 HAAAAAA he's screwed up.

Her arousal was mounting as she pushed herself rhythmically against his body. It was a physical sensation like nothing she had ever felt before, and as it was near its peak her eyes rolled back into her head and her head lolled to the side and downward. Jaws opened and clamped down like a vice against his arm. Her teeth sunk deep, warm, rich blood flowed into her mouth, and she climaxed. The feeling was so intense she lost herself, and instead of just hanging on to his arm as she had planned, she wrenched her head back, removing fur, flesh and muscles.

She was sitting up on him then, her entire body throbbing, blood streaming down her chin and neck and onto her small breasts. She slid her hands up her throat, feeling her pulse and the wetness there, before realizing she still had a large chunk of his flesh in her mouth. She began chewing; it tasted wonderful, and she swallowed and then licked her lips, You taste good… She said in a voice not her own. It was a dark, lustful voice that sounded like that of a woman much older.

Her mind was beginning to clear, her pulse was beginning to slow, and the soft boredom that dominated her mind was creeping back. She looked at him, angry, and snarled. Why couldn’t it last? She could kill him, but even that didn’t seem worth it anymore. What was wrong with her? Suddenly, a strange sensation pushed the boredom back for a moment; it was sorrow. Her eyes watered and she felt a knot in her throat. But she would not cry, she would not fucking cry! The sorrow was replaced by the anger once more and she drew back her hand and struck him across the face, drawing even more blood on the other side of the face, but not cutting him to deep this time, You’re worthless! She hissed, Nothing more than a white, dirty dog! And with that, she pushed herself off him, and kicked dirt on him, and walked briskly away.


Textures courtesy of JakezDaniel, tExTuReMaTtIc, Sirius-sdz &wchild original image from Wolf’s Rain

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