erasing a memory
#1
Firefly had decided that tomorrow would be the day that she would bring her little heathens home. She'd find some poor pathetic bastard and in the dark of night she'd quickly end his misery stage another disturbance and be well on her way to saving the day. She hadn't expected the raw emotions of the rest of the pack over what she'd done to show her mate just what could happen when you fucked around but there was a cause and effect to everything. She just shrugged it off and went on. Soon enough the pack would have their future back and she could go back to fighting with the bastard who she thought once fed the fires of her soul.

Tonight though, she was going to forget the tail chaser even existed with her own form of therapy. She hasn't really had a chance to turn her attentions to the stores of sweet liquors in the packlands for a long season and now she was taking her sweet time to rediscover every simple pleasure the alcohol had to afford. Right down to the risque ones that she might just pay for later if fate allowed her.

She knew the sweet taste of wine was always available in the vineyard but not today, not for the bitch. Instead she had stationed herself on the dock overlooking the bay, a blanket cradled the riches of exploring the town, bottles filled with all sorts of tones and colors of the alcoholic's distorted rainbow. She smiled to herself as she let the bottles scatter on the dock as she leaned back against one of the posts and took a fierce swig, the stars above exploding into a brilliance far brighter than they'd ever been or ever would. For tonight the she-devil was in heaven.
#2
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Dutch let out a grumble. He hadn't had much energy the whole day and all he wanted was to collapse at his home, defeated. But of course he couldn't do that! He was a damn proud creature and wouldn't let his body take over his emotions. The man had decided to go relax somewhere, even if his defintion of 'relax' wasn't sleeping or resting; instead it was drinking. Drinking had always been Dutch's way to vent his feelings and to open up to the world. Besides, who the hell would pass up the oppurtunity to get drunk and have some fun? Certainly not Dutch, that's for sure!


He then decided that it was time to find something to drink. A strong, deep liquor that he would chug down, flavoring every last drip. The thought of the pleasure alcohol brought to him made Dutch smile, his lips curling up into a grin. What he would give for a swig of the finest alcohol in the pack! But he had special requirements while drinking. Dutch needed someone to talk to, somewhere to sit and seconds, thirds, fourths and so on. Wondering where he was going to find all of these things, Dutch came across another person. It was obviously a woman by her scent and that interested the man. He pushed himself forward, following the scent.


As it turned out, Dutch's scent glands had been correct; sure enough, a woman was before him. Grinning, he stepped forward and began speaking. "Hello. Aren't you a sight?" He murmured, reaching for a bottle. He took a large swig, then wiped his face with his paw. Indeed, the pleasures of alcohol filled his throat, dribbling down into his stomach. Instantly he was relaxed and ready for some excitement. Somehow, he knew that this woman would bring some excitement to him.

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#3
The coppery gold woman of Dahlia de Mai had heard the approaching steps on the wood dock but she hadn't done anything to send the lower packmate off on their way. She really didn't care who came to join her this night. It was a fine night for the good to be bad and the bad to be angelic, in their own wicked ways and she intended to be whatever damn well suited her tonight. Her emerald orbs turned when the voice greeted her as the male seemed to make himself right at home. She knew she'd seen him at the packmeeting, but then she'd had more urgent matters to tend to and hadn't bothered to try and figure out just who he was. He was a strange fellow to come and just plop himself down in the middle of her little personal party though but for now she'd let that pass.

"I trust you're speaking to the liquor.." she asked, the haughty woman raised a brow at the male before letting her own bottle caress her lips as the smooth bold flavor greeted her tongue and danced to the back of her throat before the numbing sensation took hold again. She loved to savor the taste of the bold exotic flavors that the bottles seemed to hold. Each one was a rare jewel and she would have owned each by the end of the night. Her electric eyes lingered on the male as she wondered if he knew just who she was, or if he even cared.

In the end it wouldn't matter either way to her, if he could keep her interested long enough she'd tempted the beast that seemed to roam and linger behind the well being of every man. He might pay for it tomorrow and she as well but tomorrow was another day and here and now was more exciting and the thrill of that danger was something she could savor.


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