table © Alaine
ooc: xDD I just found a lot of muse there, is all.
WC: 800+
He roared in protest, but Sylvie would not have it. It was rude to interrupt someone while they were speaking, after all. And finally, moments after her request was completed, the male was upon her, forcing the ivory and caramel damsel against the wall as both of his heavy paws smacked against the wood on either side of her head. Ivory daggers were so close to claiming purchase in her face, hot, ragged breath sending goosebumps up and down silky furred body. And yet... Sylvie didn't even flinch. She stared back at the much stronger fellow, defiance roaring within orchid petal eyes as a forest fire claimed the light shade of those gentle orbs. Caillen was embodying her once terrifying dreams of a russet-hued beast determined to kill her, doing whatever he might to try and scare the maiden into a conformist's stupor. She refused to give in, even as his words brought white incisors closer and closer to her maw.
"I know I have more sense than you do right now." She said icily, returning his hot breath with her own, chocolate nose twitching in slight annoyance. Caillen really needed a mint. "And as for shame... for being there..." She said slowly, deliberately. "You know not what kind of shame I felt to be tossed away by my own mother." He knew of her story, he knew better. She had always been envious of him for the fact that Alaine would never rid herself of her boy... despite he being as much a bastard child as she. "I've been here for nearly a week now. So the better question is... what do you know about being there?" Alaine's claws interrupted their words, causing the raging brute to whirl away from his once dearest friend, sending his mother sprawling onto the ground with a cry.
Sylvie moved to assist Alaine, crossed arms falling in favor of reaching for her mentally unstable guardian. Stooping into a squat, silky plume dragged upon the snarled wooden floor as lilac damsel hoisted her foster mother back up. "Are you alright, Alaine?" She said quietly, patting the cream and ivory female's arm, both of her flopped ears trained on any movement from Caillen. She hoped the poor woman was, considering what she was going through right then- both mentally and physically. Her demons were back to haunt her in the form of her once angelic children as they stayed nearly claw to throat with one another. For a moment, Sylvie considered her foster-mother's condition before turning to Caillen, now between his powerful bulk and Alaine's frail form.
What was she doing, staring death so defiantly in the face? What was he doing, thinking such terrible thoughts in regards to what made life worth living? What were they doing, fighting over something so completely lost in translation? What... what were they even fighting about? It began with something as simple as Caillen's belief in Alaine shaming herself by finding someone to fill the void in her life the pair of them had so caused. And then it escalated into a pissing match. Who was the better child, Sylvie, the foster-daughter who so fervently desired to traverse the world and leave her loved ones in her absence, worrying constantly about her safety? Or Caillen, the slayed dreamer that once brought so much happiness into the lives of the two females, but now only brought fear and worry?
Was she still the stricken princess she was then, constantly in distress when faced with even something so simple as a hug? Was he still the bubbling dreamer, afflicted with an adorable stutter and a sweet, sheltered disposition? They had seen so much more of the world since their departure from one another, and ultimately, from Alaine. What did Alaine think of all this, cowering in her grief-stricken world of dark sunshine and broken hearts? Sylvie's resolve hardened, but her thusfar frozen heart, the bruised flesh ever-beating within her, pumping her life with each second seemed to shatter, dispersing into a million pieces, leaving only a single, painful shard in the core of her battle-stance'd form. No more would she stand idly by.
The princess was no longer accepting her fate as a damsel in distress, one of two weaker persons cornered by a stronger opponent. Like the stories Caillen once spun for her enjoyment, the soft, moon-spun young lady took up the role of the valiant prince, determined to do whatever she could to protect her cream and ivory damsel from the viscous beast. In hand to hand combat, she would surely lose... but if she could kite the slower hybrid... she stood a much, much higher chance of chasing him out. "I'll ask you one more time. Please leave." She said sternly, eyes burning violently. Though she lacked a weapon, or even the upper hand, Sylvie would protect Alaine at all costs... Caillen had not only failed his quest... he had become the very thing he once sought to protect the pair of collie girls from.
He was the viscous beast.
Speak think walk
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