[P] [M] it only takes just one card
#1

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.

Specifically, this thread is marked mature because of: .
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Despite her resolve to join a pack, Mullica was still waiting. She wondered now, truly, if Galloway had fled from her. Perhaps he'd discovered the whole wide world was better than his mother, after all. The creamy-hued woman had waited around her travois as long as she could -- but finally, when the loneliness was enough to drive her mad, Mullica headed away from her small camp. She followed her nose, seeking fresh water, and eventually swapped senses, her ears guiding her to the babble of a small stream.

The wolf-dog splashed her feet and legs first, and then settled on a boulder to dribble water over the rest of herself. It was hot, but she didn't want to get completely soaked. In either case, she'd look and feel quite silly rolling around in such a shallow and narrow stream -- and, likely as not, she'd wind up stirring all the grit up, too. It was better this way. The hybrid sighed as she poured the water over her hair and face. Though she was partially dressed, all Mullica wore was -- for the most part -- resistant to water. The cloth in her hair would dry and suffer no permanent damage from the stream water.

Her belly growled, a low rumble that sent her standing up and moving further up the stream. She sought a deeper pool where fish might congregate. Though the part of the brook where she'd soothed herself was too thin and shallow to support fish, they might still migrate through the stream, or become trapped in it.

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#2
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Messiah is in Secui form and gross. *also quietly adds M tag*


Sour and hurt from the brief scuffle with the black wolfdog's protector, Messiah marched onward with eyes narrow and sullen and gait uneven. It was not major damage and the cuts upon his person likely wouldn't even scar, but the bruises would hurt for days and turn black and green beneath tattered fur. That fur, a coyote red-tawny, was only barely visible under a layer of assorted muck that was some parts mud, some parts dung, and along his legs some parts clinging silt when he walked through streams. He was like a shambling pile of dark coals, off-black with hints of glowing heat beneath them -- like red eyes with a piece of amber.


He was in a decidedly bad mood.


The babble of another stream called to him, and he hobbled toward it despite his mood and desire to just march right back on to Inferni. Whatever reprieve cool mud had given him from the heat had been lost as it hardened and cracked on his slim form, and he was very thirsty. Tail low and lank in defeat and paws hurting, he approached the water and lapped it eagerly, the tuft of reddish fur at his chin finally showing its color. He licked his lips, shuddered at the taste of something on his muzzle that hadn't even been mud at the first place, and with a retching noise stepped forward to lower himself in the water -- when he caught a scent.


Oh, come on, the coyote shrieked. He jumped at the other bank, scrambled onto earth, and spotted the pale form of a wolfdog moving upstream. You! Wolfy bitch, why don't you let a coyote fucking relax in peace after your friends beat on him! The least you can fucking do!



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#3
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-- darp sorry shoulda marked

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She thought at first he was a hallucination -- a part of the mad loneliness that gripped her. It filled her nights with whispers and nightmares, her days with sorrow -- why should it not twist her vision, too? She'd experienced such before, in the depths of drunkenness. Still, she stood frozen. It was one thing for sight to be twisted out of reality -- but sight, too? He was downwind of her, so her nose was useless.

I didn't do anything, she murmured, her voice soft. I don't have any friends. I'll go. It was true -- she did not have a friend in the world, she'd been abandoned or walked away from all of them. No matter how far she was from the skull-lined borders and the last she-coyote who had threatened her,he might still have friends. If he and his friends belonged to reality, Mullica did not want to be caught in their midst. He was spattered with mud and already scarred. Part of one of his eyes burned like fire, where the other seemed to blend with his coat, deep and dull brown.

She took a step into the deeper water of the pool, hunching over as she made her way away from him.

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#4
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Is okay! And all my posts suck waah ;;


The other muttered, shuffled from him into still water. Messiah watched her intently, and might have let it go; she was smart and apparently did not want trouble. He did not have to hurt every wolf he came across -- would not be able to leave Inferni's borders if that were true.


But the intelligent decision to avoid a coyote warrior did not mean she was not a sinner and would not sin. And Messiah was in a bad mood.


He snarled, cracked lips wrinkling back from stained teeth, and trotted along the bank toward her, head low and ears flat and eyes intent. That isn't good enough, you spineless bitch. You gotta pay for what they did. He broke out into a lope -- then rushed at her, aiming to snap at one of her feet and pull her, maybe toss her into the water.



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#5
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--

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She was more afraid of what he stood for than the coyote himself, at first. As with the she-coyote before, it was the idea of others lurking around, the boogeymen she could not see, that truly struck fear into her. At least, until he charged her. All thoughts of friends and allies fled her mind, as well as all thoughts of running away. Mullica, who'd never thrown more than a slap in her life, turned and swung her balled fists wildly at him. She wasn't consiciously aware of it, but she was screech-growling -- half a shriek and half a growl -- at him.

The coyote snapped at one of her legs, for her punches were not well-aimed and there was a distinct disparity of height given their differing forms. His teeth were like fire in her flesh, and the shrieking promptly overwhelmed the growling. The husky fell back into the water, her arms windmilling wildly. It was deep enough that she mostly floated, though her head went under at first and she came up with garbled screams once. The backs of her thighs and her rear scraped against the bottom. Something snagged on her hand and tore at its flesh there. She scrambled to catch her feet again, but the bottom of the stream was soggy and impossibly slippery now, and her leg and hand hurt so.

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#6
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I'm really sorry for the wait; I have no excuse. @_@



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He patrolled most days, when he was not hunting, or training. They were not the most important duties of a Senescha, per se, but Skoll doubted the Court would fail if he failed in his duties. Enough canines would seek out Sir Haven for wisdom before him -- and he was a good hunter and defender for his pack, not so great a babysitter of the lower-tiered fighters.


He would do his job and guard his home from dangers, though. He'd proven himself time and time again that he could do this, had come between a friend and the jaws of an enemy enough times. He was tireless, always prowling, always searching, always keeping his ears open for a shriek or yell.


Not one to ignore dangers well past the borders, Skoll explored the familiar, shadowed woodlands -- and as he crossed a creek with a jump, suddenly heard frantic splashing and at once a gurgling scream. Fur shot up like spikes along his hackles, and he almost began to shift. He could cross from Lupus into Secui in a handful of seconds -- but one minute might be all it took for the shrieking canine to die.


Instead, the wolfdog galloped along the side of the bank, ears down and teeth bared even before he spotted the pointed, slimy-looking creature on top of another in the water. He saw a glimpse of soft, reddish-blonde and white fur and rushed the coyote.


Teeth buried deep into the beast -- or into a layer of mud and filth that caked all but spindly orange legs. He grasped enough of the scruff to toss the animal to the side, a barking snarl warning the coyote not to advance again. He backed toward the stream a moment later, not daring to take his eyes away from the enemy but praying that Mullica would emerge from the water and grab him. If he didn't feel her, he'd turn and swim for her -- coyote be damned.



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#7
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Exit Messiah.



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A high, rumbling noise left the frantic wolfdog as she slung a fist in his direction -- a blow he shrugged off in his jump, smaller body twisted. She could not adequately defend herself -- not while she had to bend down to even strike him. He could feel her hands brush his ears, his scruff, but single-mindedly advanced to her leg and bit into her flesh, growling and grinning as he tugged to knock her off balance.


And he succeeded, and joined her in the water shortly after. She shrieked, and Messiah splashed awkwardly in the water, scrabbling for purchase on her. Secui claws raked at her beneath the water, and he snapped wherever her head emerged. It was an almost playful motion now, his mouth twisted in a grin as mud dripped from his chin.


Then jaws met in his scruff and hauled him from the water.


Messiah found himself on his side on the bank, quickly scrabbling to his paws and snarling at the yellow wolfdog standing in the water. Again -- again, wolves traveled in packs. Again he was thrown aside like nothing.


Shame bubbled to the surface and made his voice break as he screamed at them. I'll kill you! I'll rip both of you to shreds. I'll break your legs until all you can do is crawl and I'll wear your bones!


The large golden hybrid raised a curled tail over his back, stance dominant, lips fallen over teeth now but green eyes level and angry. His voice was low. Leave, coyote -- or I'll hurt you, and I won't tell you what I'm going to do before I've done it.


Messiah snapped his ears down and curled his lips again -- but knew, as he'd known with Milos, when he was beaten. He raised his tail high and trembled and spat another awful curse at the wolves before he turned and ran -- and fought off sobs once he'd tumbled through the woods, burrs in his fur and his paws sore and muck coursing down in wet streams through his fur, because he was never ever who he thought he ought to be.



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#8
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-- No worries batman, me too. D:

See galleries for credit.

The water, which had been clear at one point, was brown and red. She'd stirred up all the silt in her mad scramble backwards, and the red was surely her own blood. She'd felt her flesh tear. Where was Galloway? Where was anyone? She would die, drowned in a creek and nothing more than a piece of meat, and her son would never find her because her body would float out to the ocean. Claws tore at her rib and shoulder, but she did not feel them. She'd never been close to drowning before, but havingg rown up alongside the water, she was no stranger to it. It felt differently than she'd expected, despite hearing so many stories of those who had made it. Her mind was fuzzy, and all panic had departed her utterly. Instead, she worried about whether her son would be able to find her body. Probably not -- she'd be bones at the bottom of the ocean before long. It wasn't a bad thought -- in fact, it was rather nice.

A distant tearing feeling caught hold of her, the flesh of her shoulder ripping as the coyote was torn away from her. She tumbled over beneath the water, uncertain which direction was up and down. She swam -- a twitching motion that propelled her precisely nowhere -- toward the bottom rather than the surface, though she rolled over again. The current carried her downstream, enough so that her shoulder and back bumped against legs. The coyote? she thought, dimly. His brother, probably, more likely. There were probably twenty of them around her by now. Perhaps she needn't worry about being bones in the ocean; surely they'd want their fun with her. That was some small comfort. At least Galloway would know what happened to her. The thoughts were slowing, dimming, blackening -- she took another breath of water, and they were no more.

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<div class="name"><span class="name-wrap">Mullica Leeds</span>
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