I'm here without you.
#1
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Private, 500+


         Fingers ran gently through her thick, auburn hair. There were no traces of the bloody battle that had taken place approximately a week ago – no visible ones anyway, except for the clean injuries and blows she had received. The girl investigated the limited numbers of cuts and bruises that her opponents had managed to inflict on her body, unable to determine whether or not she hoped they would scar. The shopping mall in Halifax was a mess – the raids had been many and the raiders greedy. The mirror was still intact though, and the woman looked at her own reflection for the first time in months. In the past she had been obsessed with her appearance more than anything, but after Samael happened she had been unable to look at herself. Her hands and fingers had continued to make her look presentable, knowing what to do after so long time fixing her hair several times every damn day. Ruby eyes were curious as she let a finger lightly trail two cuts running over her muzzle and under her left eye. They were thin, red streaks, so petite that she doubted they would leave any mark at all. She let that gaze travel down her own, partly clothed form, inhaling in light wonder as she saw how much her body had changed the last half year. Her curves were still present, made smooth by her thick, coppery fur. The hand that was not busy tracing her light injuries pressed against various part of her own body, feeling the hard muscles under skin and fur.

        
It brought some sense of joy to her, suddenly realizing that she had changed. It was not only physical, but her psyche was still too damaged for her to dare to change her focus. She reached for the mirror, letting her palms settle against the cool object and let her forehead do the same, closing her eyes as she merely breathed. The young hybrid wished her troubles could be soothed by something, but right now her life just seemed so depressingly empty. She had killed a woman that had been there for her despite not knowing her. She often thought of Mew Sadira, the woman that had gotten one of Halo’s limited bullets in her head. Right now, away from Inferni and alone with her reflection, she allowed the scene to replay, taking in those feelings that she had stored away to deal with when the time was right. She had wished to love war and death, but when it came to play the reaper she turned into a mechanic thing, it seemed. She had yet to find much joy in the killing, though the lives on her conscience were few. Her white, green eyed sister had not deserved death. She had embraced the hybrid woman and accepted her instantly despite their differences. The unshed tears were enchanting her ruby eyes as she opened them and inhaled deeply, not about to allow her body to tremble.




Table credit: Mary Poppins
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#2
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-sigh- i love Libri writing :3



The bone collar was wrapped around his neck. At first he had worried about keeping something another female had given him. But it was not a gift, but payment for the dark stallion that he allowed to stay among the rest in the stables while being owned by a lone wolf. The smooth bone, cord and silver were no longer awkward feeling; and now nothing more then an extension of his ragged scarred self. A light toned finger touched it, and then let it to attend to the search that the Baron had set for himself.

Heath often returned to the mangled city ruins, looking for books, supplies, or as like the moment; personal artifacts. He was not one for fashion; his muddied rolled denim pants a testimony to the fact. But the male had an eye for his waistband accessory. Honey colored eyes looked down at the tinged silver buckle, his thumb whipping across the rider and bull in hopes of buffing it till it shone in the dim light.

There was glass everywhere, and the male took his time as he gathered what he desired. A leather satchel, the belts and buckles, and the hat. Never had he ventured into the large building, the ruins uninviting to say the least. Yet Heath fought the rubble, and found that many of the windows were broken, most things rotting or thieved. He was unsure why the store that drew his eye had not been raided thoroughly, it seemed that his taste was not the type that served a human in quiet a panic.

The male walked the hallway, eyes watching his step and form keeping to the shadows. His eyes looked upwards, the scent of another ticking his black nostrils and calling him to investigate further. He walked slowly, head low and eyes gazing to and fro in the search. He walked up to the next storefront, looking to his right and through the broken glass that had once displayed manikins, their bodies disemboweled and broken on the ground. He saw her back but could catch the sight of her face in the mirror’s reflection. Nose flaring, eyes narrowing at the sight of her, yet he remained silent.



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300+
#3
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-Sigh- I love Alli writing <3, 300+


         It was not possible to point out exactly why she turned her face slightly to the side at the right moment, but that canine shaped figure was noticed in the corner of her eye, a figure that had not been there before. The girl did not jump with the surprise at this discovery, nor did she turn her pupils to the form despite how much they itched to focus on the form to make out who and what it was. Instead she looked back to the mirror as if nothing had happened before she accidentally bumped into an empty box on top of one of the stands around her and crouched only slightly after in pursuit of the item she had knocked down. Temporarily out of sight as she had twisted around the corner after the box, the girl let two fingers gently press at the inner corners of her eyes in an attempt to draw out some of the salty liquid that had been gathering to form tears moments before she had discovered that she was being watched. The free hand reached for something quite different from a box, and there was only the softest of metallic breaths caressing her ears as the sword was drawn from its shaft. To minimize the suspicious sound she let a foot poke the box lightly, imitating coincidental sounds.

        
Air flowed freely in and out of her black nostrils, and she paid attention to the state of her mind – looking for traces of panic in any form. It was very likely that this was a Dahlia member out to get another Lykoi. Two of her family members had been attacked and wounded when they were on their own, and Halo refused to follow in their trails. Her grasp was firm on the deadly weapon, and now she waited, oversized ears swivelling in pursuit of even the faintest of sounds. Her heart beat strong and rhythmic against her branded Lykoi star, and the hand that had drawn out her unshed tears now settled on top of the tattoo, finding strength in that simple gesture and the steady beating under her soft palm.



Table credit: Mary Poppins
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#4
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<3


He thought is all fairly meaningless. The fighting, the war that was raging in lands beyond his own. The male could respect that it all meant something to others, yet the reasons for either side to clash against the other were worthless to Heath. If the tide crashed against his home borders then perhaps he would find it all a bit interesting and meaningful, but he had yet to care who was right who was wrong. Who deserved death and who deserved the right to live? He saw the two groups equally foul, and if they chose to destroy one another the coy-wolf would only ask that the blood splatter not hit anything that touched his life. Her scent reminded him of the ragged creature that had confronted him, and left him with new scars.

It brought him closer, a single step before she clumsily knocked over one of the many scattered boxes that littered the store’s innards. He worried for a moment that she had seen him, yet he saw no glance backwards. The Cours male paused, searching for her with three senses and waiting with suspicion. He had no reason to hurt her, and no reason to want to. Yet Heath took a second’s glance downward to avoid a piece of sharp glass before taking the next guided step forward.

He passed the window, entering the store as she remained hidden. A hand was placed on the belt buckles attached to the straps that hung over his shoulder, silencing any potential clink. Fingers wrapped around the thick wide leather, holding it still. The hat was lightly placed on the nearest counter, freeing his hand to rest on the folded knife that hung on his pants pocket. He searched for the hatred that had been so readily retrieved in the past to assist in the peak of powerful adrenaline, and yet he could not find it. The memories that scent brought was all that he could collect, and thus he proceeded with caution and curiosity more then in the pursuit of true conquest.



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300+
#5
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300+


         Her eyelids fluttered for a brief moment before she let them paint her world with black. In times like these she felt strangely calm and empty. She had wanted lust like Samael’s, but it never came. She had several times pondered about her damaged mind, if she was truly suffering from something more than her trauma. Her anger was needed in the heat of battle, but it never existed at the times when it should. Now was no different; she knew only tranquillity and the sword in her hand. Perhaps it was a touch of sadness in her nothingness. She did not know the canine that now had entered the store and her reaction was to draw her sword and wait for him to come close enough to be stabbed. It did not even matter if the other was innocent. Ruby hued orbs opened again and she thought that she should show some more respect for life.

        
Then again, should she treat strangers better than her friends? She was an unfair, cold bitch after all. ”You should leave,” she spoke quietly, letting her voice interrupt the howling silence. It was hypocritical to loathe the loneliness when it was clear that she was inviting it into her life, but she did not always know how to interact with other creatures anymore. She regretted the things she had said to Cotl, though when she had said them it had felt feverishly good and she would probably have taken the same route again had she been given the chance. She did not really understand what her problem truly was, but there was a forever present frustration clouding over every fucked up day. The hybrid woman made up her mind and slowly rose to look at the approaching male. He was a stranger and did not reek of Dahlia. Good for him.



Table credit: Mary Poppins
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#6
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-


With his slow approach and her lack of appearance Heath wondered for a second if she had scampered off some how. He was sure that she was still lingering beyond the counter which hid her form. His keen sight wouldn’t have allowed her to disappear in such a way. He felt her presence, though she was as silence as a frozen hare. Still her scent could not be hidden. He found himself stalking her, his body tense and his curiosity falling to something more intense. Heath corrected his contracted muscles, calming his body and yet still ready for what ever might jump out at him.

She spoke, and it stopped Heath in his slow moving small stride. He waited, the words moving through the thick quiet in order for him to recognize and process them. He was not about to leave, not at her simple demand. And for lack of response he simply stood his ground. The tension was tangible, threatening to strangle both creatures. Gold eyes were locked on the horizon that the table made, her form breaching it. Dark head rose to show the blood red eyes of her coyote lineage. Just as the mongrel creature had held those months ago. His spawn? Heath wondered. He shifted to one foot, body limber.

The coyote came to full height, and the thing she likely had gone to retrieve at his arrive was held in her hand. He could have shaken his head, scoffed and laughed. But the male remained still. It was not her ability to wield the weapon that made him want to chuckle in her face. He wandered where they all got those things. He felt that he had met too many females that bore a weapon as large and dangerous as the one the stranger held. How did their lithe form carry and swing such things? Two Aniwaya females, Annan, and now this coyote. Each with their own battle gear, and Heath merely carried a knife for cutting twine.

“You don’t need that.” He spoke, his voice stark of emotion. Nether afraid nor bold. His hand no longer lingered at his pocket, in the chance she noticed what he carried there.




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300+
#7
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         Her brilliantly hued orbs narrowed as she took in the male’s form. He was from one of the wolf packs, though his form spoke of mixed blood. A hybrid in other words. Little did she know that she was standing face to face with her nephew. He seemed to hold more age than her, but not much. She instinctively despised him for his choice. She wanted to loathe him for his muddled appearance; the appearance that allowed him to slip into a wolf pack without heaps of difficulties, but that would be silly. Halo had never wanted to live her life as a wolf except for a short moment when she had cried her salty tears in her white half-sister’s arms. If she had only known exactly how widely spread her family was. She was a coyote at heart still – the brainwashing had done its job well. Samael was a bastard, but he had let her live unlike the innocent wolf. Her family was very powerful with insanity dancing wildly within more than one individual.

        
He spoke and her lips curled in disbelief as she eyed the one hand that until now had lingered quite close to his pocked. She observed it, took in the shape and kept her secure grip on her beloved blade. ”What’s in your pocket, wolf?” she wondered, her voice ringing unpleasantly as she looked the male over.



Table credit: Mary Poppins
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#8
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-

The feuds between the species had not touched him. Yes, the coyote of Inferni had scarred him, but that brought ill thought towards the clan. Not just of every coyote. He owned their blood, but that was not what made his lineage un-pure. His appearance spoke heavily of the mongrel within, his ears alone a symbol of the yote that he carried. His it affected her, Heath could not guess. She looked to him with piercing eyes, for a reason unknown to the male. He looked at her with a suspicion because of the sword she bore and the red eyes that spoke of the maddened creature he had faced. Whether she could use the weapon or not did not matter to the Cours beast. It was deadly no matter, and he did not wish to find out.

She spoke with a question on her tongue, her voice tinged with what Heath thought could be disgust. His gold eyes did not leave her, and slowly he reached for the folded knife that hid in his pocket. Taking it out, the male placed it on the counter with his newly fetched hat. "What are you looking for?" he asked, hoping to ease the tension that stood between them. It was the only reason that Heath ever came to the human's ruins, and figured it was hers as well. Even with the hopes that he would be killed at the hands of an Inferni female, his voice was still solid and chilled.





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#9
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Sorry for the wait, love Sad 300+


         Halo had been born in the middle of the chaos and racism that seemed to so often exist between wolves and coyotes. A child of both worlds partly raised by a wolfess with the softest ivory fur and brainwashed by a dark man with dark storms in his eyes. She could have lived a better life and been a better person. She could also have turned into something much worse than what she currently was. She watched the male slowly reach into his pocket and draw out a knife. An arrogant snort escaped the warrior woman then, not at all intimidated by his blade as long as she held on to her own, larger one. He even let go of it, placing it on the counter along with the weird. Why would a canine wear a hat? The mental question was idiotic and unnecessary, because she was a user of certain human clothing and so on herself. The short shorts and the beautiful piece of cloth tied around her waist was a clear indicator alone.

        
His question was odd and she wondered why he couldn’t just leave her like she had advised him to. She was looking for herself, searching for answers and trying to find the person she thought she should be. Of course he would be unable to understand this. He had chosen the life of a wolf and why should he wish to socialize with a coyote – a coyote that showed no desire to socialize with him? He could not be trusted. The world was a dark and cruel place – not even Inferni was a safe place anymore. Not even Lykois could be fully trusted. Her sword rose and drifted towards him as she advanced slowly, hoping to push on to create a large distance between the two. Only now did she remember that she had met one from his pack in the past. ”You’re prettier than the hideously scarred woman I met from your pack a good while ago,” the young woman commented as she continued to approach with her sharply pointed blade aimed at his heart.




Table credit: Mary Poppins
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#10
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turn that frown upside down!



Heath could have left, and maybe he should have the moment that she had drawn her sword. But she spiked his curiosity, and oddly so. It was easy for Heath to walk away from a stranger, their unknown lives nothing for him to concern himself with. The coy-wolf could not decide if it was the look that she had worn reflected in the mirror, or her complete disdain for him that made Heath linger. What ever it was, it seemed to be getting him into more trouble then he foresaw. He had placed all threats aside, kept his distance, spoke a reassuring word and though he did not heed her initial warning and leave Heath felt as if he had made as many offerings of peace as he could.

She spoke, bypassing his question and mentioning another that had lived among the Miracles mutts. Svara, the female that had greeted him wore many, many scars. The idea that she thought him pretty was one that Heath did not take seriously what so ever. The woman that had fallen in love with him was blind, such a thing spoke volumes. Her steady approach beckoned him to moved backwards, but he remained still for the time being. Svara was dead, slain by her own hand from what Heath had heard. “I’ve met another of your clan, with the same eyes.” He replied, not sure if it would get him killed or not. “You prettier too, though.” He added.




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#11
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<3


         Her alert gaze never faltered, but the rest of her face smoothed and drew a beautifully lined smile as he parried her words with something similar. It reminded her of the games she had used to play before her life had turned horrible. It was not the very same game, but the girl could gladly play along for a moment or two for the sake of amusement. Compliments were so much easier to handle when they did not come from someone she knew. Two clawed fingers rose to brush through her heavy fringe; removing invisible knots in the soft auburn. ”So you’ve met Hybrid?” the girl commented softly; unable to think of any other red eyed creature than her co-hydra for a moment. Then, of course there was always Samael Lykoi. ”Or my dear uncle Sammie?” for a moment she seemed to struggle to keep her smile smooth.

        
She pushed the thought away – wanted this clan member to be Hybrid Holocaust. She could only agree with this pack dog on that then, because Hybrid was not the prettiest thing in the world. ”I know – They are severely outmatched in that department.” Her grin grew wider despite the seriousness in her crimson gaze. She wanted to laugh, but made not a sound. She wanted him to mean what he said about her looks, but knew better than to assume such a thing. He was either being polite back or mocking her, and she was not quite sure what she would have preferred.



Table credit: Mary Poppins
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#12
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<33


There was a slight change in her, and she even smiled as he spoke. He liked that she was seeing him in a sort of different light. He wouldn’t go so far and say that she was relaxed, for her form was still poised for a battle Heath did not intend on fighting, but he was able to find something that might change her attitude towards him. She spoke the names, and Heath was unsure. He had actually met more then one Inferni member, yet if a name was spoke it was not his to claim in his memory forever. Still, Heath guessed (and correctly so) “Hybrid, I believe.” He added in case from some reason she could tell he was uncertain. The male of his memory was a rough and tattered beast, and a hybrid or many things at best.

She watched him with a hard, stone ruby gaze. Yet her smile broadened, and Heath was certain that she would no longer use the sword against him. Up until this moment he couldn’t have been completely certain. “I wouldn’t call him ugly, but that is very true.” He spoke with sarcasm in his tone, and with the want to calm her and stroke her ego once more in mind. He found it impossible to look at her and see what it was that he truly wanted, in a more physical manner, but she certainly was striking and ascetic to the eye. But she was not his Ruri. There was no lying there. Heath extended the invitation, “Where you looking for something, maybe I can help you.” in case she did need the help. He still believed that the only reason to venture into the city was to search for human relics that could be used for one's own convince. She had yet to answer him, and so he repeated the question.





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#13
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         Yeah, Hybrid was an ugly bastard. This male seemed too polite to acknowledge her co-hydra’s lack of beauty, but at least he had brains enough to agree that her appearance was kinder to the eye. She let fingers brush through her soft auburn hair and let her smile remain on her youthful face for now. She had been looking for the remaining pieces of her soul. She had looked for a reflection in the mirror that could tell her who she truly was. This dog could not help her with that. The hybrid’s petite nose wrinkled slightly and revealed exactly how eager she was about that. Her expression smoothed out soon again though, because this was a treasure cove full of beautiful things if one just knew where to look. What would she want then? The sword was withdrawn and sheathed in a single fluid motion. If he tried to be smart with her she could always punch his brains out. Her soft palm stroke against the light material where the royal dragon twisted through the sky and she let an absent smile dance on her lips. How she loved it. Perhaps she should try to find something for her room?

        
The woman’s bedroom was dusty and perhaps even a bit filthy. Spring was on its way and she knew her place could need a spring cleaning. Carpets and covers for the bed would be best! The young Inferni member loved sinking down in the soft bed on top of soft quilts and covers. Perhaps they were lucky and even found some stones that she could play with when she practised making jewellery? They could start out here though. The fingers that had played with her dark locks started to trace down her naked chest slowly as her ruby gaze travelled over the rows of useless human clothing. ”I don’t know, do you think there’s anything in here that would fit me?” she wondered warmly and looked into his brown gaze. She wondered if he thought she was pretty. Most males she had encountered thought so, but she was always intrigued by those who did not instantly give in.



Table credit: Mary Poppins
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#14
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Heath was not one to search for the inner beauty of many. It was sort of easy just to pass those that he knew little of along with the rest of the world. He cared for few, and he found that isn’t wasn’t an issue to have a small pool of loved ones. He thought her pleasant to look at, he couldn’t help that. But what hid inside mattered, and Heath found no true desire to know her more then as an acquaintance. He was merely sarcastic in his comments, trying with minimal effort to lighten the mood and move the female away from negative thoughts and thus negative (and painful for him) reactions. The tides seemed to be turning, and Heath save a small satisfied smile. She placed the sword away, another forward-moving sign. Heath relaxed a bit, not even considering that she might have a back-up plan incase he made an unwanted advance. For Heath had no plan of moving anywhere.

She spoke, and Heath looked around the pillaged store. There were plenty of things remaining, but he was not the best judge when it came to female garments. His own jeans were worn for pockets and protection when he rode, and he did not worry if they were or consider them fashionable. Umm… Heath thought aloud, steping away from the spot he had been cemented in for some time. His legs were stiff, and he picked up the nearest tunic. If she liked it or if it would fit Heath had no idea.

It was yellow, mixed with a more orangey tone and imprinted with what he thought could perhaps be flowers. He wouldn’t wear it, he knew that for sure. It had no tones that matched well with foliage and provided no camouflage. But maybe, he thought, she would find it pretty. Maybe this? He asked, the plastic hanger cracked and almost broken as he held it up. Amber eyes looked back to her face, once hand holding the hanger while the other extended a sleeve of the shirt so that she could see the entire pattern.





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#15
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short D:


         He was useless. She was bored by his lack of enthusiasm—picking the first and best and holding it up to her so that she could see. The corners of her lips twisted and transformed the smile into an unsatisfied frown. Her ruby gaze investigated his face, wondering why he couldn’t make an effort now when she had been so nice to put the sword away. He ought to be thankful, but she couldn’t see it. Perhaps some of them merely were dull. It was sad, because she liked the neutral colour of his eyes. Well, he was a wolf after all, so it was ”not really a surprise..” to find that he did not entertain her. Her voice trailed off into nothing and she turned away from the stupid tunic and moved to the counter where the humans had paid for the clothes they wished to own. She looked the cheap jewellery over, but was not too dazzled by the cheap gleam of plastic. It was better than the clothes he could find her though. Some cheap and ugly ear rings caught her attention and she thought of Cotl and his brother. Both were big fans of piercings and she wondered if anything similar to what they had would look good on her.


Table credit: Mary Poppins
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#16
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short is good! Big Grin

He didn't understand her. Each response she had given him confused him more and more, but instead of trying to work through it Heath simply gave up trying. Heath let the shirt fall to the floor, what was one more addition to the rubble that surrounded them. He took a step over it, find that she (not so surprisingly) frustrated him. She had wanted him to go, and before he had not wanted to run from her because oh some sort of curiosity that she had brought him. But he found that in her efforts to push him away, and now draw him in with her question only showed the sort of creature that she was. His anger by her tired and thoughtless response was quick to flare, as it always seemed to be, but he did not give her satisfaction of such an effort-ed response. He took a breath, and then moved on with the same arrogant air. He trailed her, following her as she moved towards a counter. The male looked down at plastic things that lay beneath the glass, he wondered if his mate over enjoy such a thing, but they did not look like a quality worth her. Not surprising. He mimicked as he looked slightly over her shoulder at the dull gems. Cheap.




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#17
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=D


         They were not getting along at all. It was certainly not her fault, as she was actually being kind to him. She could easily chip him into little bits, so letting him live was cheer goodwill from her side. And he did not even try to help and entertain her. She recognized the lesser quality of the cheap accessories she was looking over, but these were still many times more beautiful than anything a luperci could make from scratch. In a time where the humans were gone and their empire as dead as its creators, these things were valuable. She picked out things with vividly hued rocks and random pretty things, putting it in the little bag that nearly always rested on her hip. She would take them home and pick out the shiny parts and use them in her own, self-made jewellery.

        
She turned suddenly and looked the male over. Why was he still here again? It had been settled that he was useless, yeah? ”See anything you like for your wolfy lady?” she wondered, not at all oblivious of the layer of a certain female that clung to his coat as a part of his fragrance. She almost wished she had brought something from home so that she could have traded, but it would be wasted. She did not enjoy mingling with the wolves in these lands at all, and as this male had made a choice to live life as a wolf and traitor, he was not worthy of anything the Hydra had to offer.


Table credit: Mary Poppins
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#18
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xD

No things were not as smooth and without tension and he would like. But what did Heath expect? She had drawn a sword at the sight of him. It was not exactly the most welcoming favor and Heath had still moved forward. Now he felt foolish at the thought of simply leaving now, running from nothing more then her sour attitude. It would be even more cowardly then turning his back to a steel weapon.

She turned to face him, and Heath looked her in the bright crimson gaze that she bore into his own softer honey. Her voice, the question, they all came to her and he still took his time looking into her gaze. It was not often that there were red eyes looking back at him. And he found them unsettling, though not anymore then her Inferni scent.

He shook his head, these things were not what he picture his colli-mate wearing. They were too bright, glitzy and not his or what he thought to be her taste. She was simple, yet elegant, and most importantly; soft. These things seemed too brash and tacky for his blind wife. No. he said simply, figuring that it was her scent that the other female picked up on him. This had not been the first time another read his mate off of his pelt. Would you be happy if your mate brought you something like that? He wondered, eyes watching her face.



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#19
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         No? She turned her face halfway to the glittering things, but as he challenged her with the same question she looked back to him, the vivid reds locked on him. It had been rude of him to answer that way, not willing to add any reasoning to his short answer. Well, she had not truly encouraged him to elaborate and it was plain as day that the two of them were no harmonic match when it came to personalities. What he should do then was to leave her be and get the hell out of here. She could not grasp why he did not pick that solution when it was so plain that he thought nothing of her. The woman tilted her head and offered one of her sweeter smiles. ”No,” was the simple answer elegantly flowing past her lips. Why? Because she made her own stuff and all those acquainted with her knew this.

"I make my own things," the woman purred, letting slender fingers stroke the bone necklace she always wore. One of the two wolf teeth belonged to Charon, the male that her uncle had so brutally murdered. She did not know why she had decided to hold on to it, but she had. The second came from the first canine she had killed, a trespasser that the clan had taken down in group. Bad memories versus good, it made it bearable. Besides, she was able to think back about that horrible day without breaking into tears and losing half her mind. White teeth glinted as she smirked at the tall male before her. She doubted he would approve of her style. Eyelashed fluttered curiously. "Do you like it?"


Table credit: Mary Poppins
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#20
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maybe we should wrap this up? ^^

Heath did not think of what he could offer her, at least no longer. Such a thing was what one thought of when they cared about the other that they were with, when he wanted to be something for them. Now, he cared so little because there was such an obvious carefree attitude that rang in her tone. He had tried, wasn't that enough? His rudeness was only a reflection of what he received from her. So let her be annoyed, the undertone in her posture spoke quietly of it. So quietly that he easily ignored it and just lingered behind her, wondering what she would say in response. Her demeanor turned pleasant, and he figured it was fake. Expertly he gathered that she would be someone that could be fake, not exactly worthy of his trust.

No? It was not exactly the words that intrigued him, but the tone of her voice. She seemed overly warm, soft as if she remembered something far more pleasant then their meeting. Gold eyes looked at the necklace, noticing the canine teeth that hung off of it. Of course he wondered whom they belonged to, interested but he gave a simple nod. I dont think I would wear it. He said with a shrug. Of course his mate would never own such a thing, nor do what it could have taken to get the teeth.


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