what we do is secret

Sirius Revlis · 04-25-2012, 07:39 PM

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<3 >> Word Count: 3+

Sirius by Nat

For a long moment, only silence met his snarled demands; the woods mocked him with their stillness, unrelenting as they withheld the stranger from view. He could sense the other, in the way that one predator can sense another - A tingling awareness. Whoever lingered, lingered still. His posture became guarded, hands flexing, muscles tense, ready to erupt into chaotic motion should the situation call for it. Always, Sirius Revlis was ready for war.

But, not challenger rushed to meet his blade and fangs, no mercenary leapt to engage his waiting aggression. His eyes found motion, and a terrible cold seized his gut. The dead have returned to walk amongst us? For there was surely a ghost, a paranormal specter come to haunt his living nightmares. The King had never been a spiritual man, never a believed in the weak virtues placed in the deities and unseen phantoms of other men. But here, before his eyes, lingered a creature paler than the moonlight that made a halo of her silver-white fur, that lit the depths of her ruby eyes.

The weakness and the stress temporarily made a believer of him, and his posture changed from aggressive to defensive, not knowing what to make of this haunting display. But the woman's nearness brought with her a scent of mortality, of solidity, and reason bid him to reconsider such a hasty conclusion. No, this was no ghost; Merely a beauty, draped in the hues of one. Dark brows drew down in a tight scowl over his luminous eyes; Sirius buried deep his shame at being so foolish, preferring instead to place his irritation upon her cloaked shoulders.

She smelt of no affiliation, no pack of which he knew. Swollen pupils swept her in the moonlight, seeking details and information. Her frame was undeniably coyfolk, the race shown clearly in her large ears, her sharp facial structure. His own mixed heritage gave him somewhat similar features, but unlike her, the wolf was clearly in him; His boxed muzzle, his broad shoulders, his impressive height and thick fur. Some of the tense unease melted from the male - Her coyblood was affirmation that she was not associated with the invaders, for they had been pure wolfkin, all of them. Still, the paranoia lingered within his veins, on par with the grief and stress that rode him still. The serpentine man was hardly his usual charming, silver-tongued self; This war had temporarily warped him into a much more brutish creature.

She observed him with a calm gaze, no fear-stink rising from her cloaked form. The King's black lips lowered from their snarl, but when he spoke, his yellowed teeth flashed sharply in the half-light. "Then your trust is misplaced," He gave her no greeting in return, only hard and bitter words given life by what could be, when he so desired it, a most succulent and alluring voice. Sirius straightened, his gaze drinking her in, suspicious and cunning. She was quite unlike any creature he had ever seen. "Who are you? What business have you, this far North?" His questions were blunt, and hardly as charming as they should have been, considering her beauty and his general tendencies to be a womanizer. However, hard times had fallen on them, and even beauty failed to placate him now.

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