03-22-2008, 09:41 PM
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Ewcreepy. =/
___Her limb was bleeding enough to drip the wet glare of crimson colour on her jeans. The stain spread, soaking through the fabric into her pelt beneath, and her maw spread in a mildly crazed smile. Her canines were long, and she sat, tempted to clean the mess up, perhaps lick the wounds and call this finished... when a shadow, whatever dim light there was left of the day to define a shadow from the light, hovered over her. Her eyes flicked up for a moment, then back down. The male. Fuckin' coyotes. Never had respect, not one of them. The bitch who'd been the reason her parents had never reconciled, was a coyote. Lykoi was the name. Goddamned interspecies breeding little cunt.
___When Anya had been younger, she'd thought that her mother and father had loved each other. There was no such justice in the world for a young pup. Her father was a rapist, and her mother was a fallen princess. Now, she was an outcast, the bastard child of a disgustingly selfish male and the dead princess of a demolished castle, which just for fun, had since been taken over by aforementioned male and his other deranged family. How cute. Not exactly a faerytale ending, eh? Never was and never would be. But c'est la vie.
___Her eyes lifted again, giving him the up and down, a less-than-interested once-over for a less-than-interesting half-breed mutt. She didn't lift her voice in speech; it didn't seem worth the time or effort. Instead, she closed her eyes and laughed softly, the sound hollow and cold, and rested her head back against the tree. His comment was barely registered in her mind. Whatever. If he was that sick to be serious...
___She might actually like him.
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Ewcreepy. =/
___Her limb was bleeding enough to drip the wet glare of crimson colour on her jeans. The stain spread, soaking through the fabric into her pelt beneath, and her maw spread in a mildly crazed smile. Her canines were long, and she sat, tempted to clean the mess up, perhaps lick the wounds and call this finished... when a shadow, whatever dim light there was left of the day to define a shadow from the light, hovered over her. Her eyes flicked up for a moment, then back down. The male. Fuckin' coyotes. Never had respect, not one of them. The bitch who'd been the reason her parents had never reconciled, was a coyote. Lykoi was the name. Goddamned interspecies breeding little cunt.
___When Anya had been younger, she'd thought that her mother and father had loved each other. There was no such justice in the world for a young pup. Her father was a rapist, and her mother was a fallen princess. Now, she was an outcast, the bastard child of a disgustingly selfish male and the dead princess of a demolished castle, which just for fun, had since been taken over by aforementioned male and his other deranged family. How cute. Not exactly a faerytale ending, eh? Never was and never would be. But c'est la vie.
___Her eyes lifted again, giving him the up and down, a less-than-interested once-over for a less-than-interesting half-breed mutt. She didn't lift her voice in speech; it didn't seem worth the time or effort. Instead, she closed her eyes and laughed softly, the sound hollow and cold, and rested her head back against the tree. His comment was barely registered in her mind. Whatever. If he was that sick to be serious...
___She might actually like him.
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