That Day Will Come
#1
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At Shiloh Hills near Rabbit Lake. And I put him in his optime form for Onus, ^=^
500+



The rain was cold as it fell dying to the earth. It cooled and froze the earth, threatening snow. But this rain was not as forgiving as snow. As if having a life of its own it sought out warmth, burrowing deep into that warmth to freeze life. It was as if the heavens sought some sort of revenge upon it. It was worse than the snow or the ice, for the liquid clung to the skin and earth spreading its gelidity with the force of liquid gases. And the heat of the coming spring was forced out of the earth, if only for this day, leaving in clouds of steam as the souls of the dead rising from the corpses of the battlefield.


The pied brute passed as a wraith, moving once again through these foreign lands. He could understand why his daughter may have chosen such a place, for these lands resembled those of Caledonia of which she had hailed. But the Korean did not love these lands. He loved only the lands from which he was birthed, for there was a darkness and a light there that was like no other place. The spirits roamed freely there, but here, there was nothing. It was as the stories of Shinhwa and Jeonseol and Mindam. But he was a creature not of Mindam but of Jeonseol and, most of all, Shinhwa. And such museok beliefs were the base of his being. And he was like that Korean Death that lead the souls to the afterlife as he drifted across the landscape searching for but one soul. And in that search he was untroubled by the wind or the rain as if the cold were just another part of his being.


The black orbs flickered across the dimmed landscape, falling lastly upon the lake that lay before him. The sound of the rain. He lived in a greyscale world, unable to see the colour. But perhaps that was appropriate. And the world that day was grey from the rain and lack of light as if the life had already left it. At that moment, he was the only creature that moved, a fluid creature. And though he hated all things human, the martial artist did not deny that the humanesque form, given to him by that virus and revealed to him by the God Arawn, had its uses, and he used it now. He did not bother himself with garments or weaponry, able to maneuver his body in that martial art. And it was perhaps that combined with his lean, well built body that he moved with an ethereal ease through the world.


The man was almost beautiful, his face holding effeminate qualities. The narrow eyes were sharp, characteristic of that race. But he was undeniably masculine, beautiful and terrible. He stood now upon a knoll spotted with trees, overlooking the lake as the steam and shadows rose in tendrils about his form. His posture was erect as he looked down upon the land, the cool façade unmoved as he gazed down as a master would his slave. And the shadows were like his slaves. They clawed at his fur, tugging, pleading as they whispered in his ear. But the pied wolf had no compassion to spare, and eventually their touch died as they withered in the cold. A light sneer tugged at the corner of his lips as he flicked his bangs from his eyes. He would bide his time for now and understand this place. Then he would move in to find that which he desired.

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#2
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awesome! this should be interesting :o


I HOLD SECRETS FLAME


Once again the sky was pelting the earth with it's frigid precipitation. Thankfully the man's coat and hat protected him for the most part though. That was something he had always found so interesting about his trench coat. Water rolled off of it just like off the back of a duck. It was incredibly useful for days such as this. Especially for a creature such as himself who barely ever rested. It was a luxury he only afforded himself when he absolutely had to. Unfortunately he had had more time than he would have liked for it lately. Right now his trails were running cold and he wasn't sure how to find them again. Today he had taken to traveling the lands again, hoping he might come across some clue that would lead him to something new.



The man hated stumbling around with no destination or purpose though, so he had decided to make for the outskirts of Crimson Dreams. He had no doubt that Anu had given him all the information she had on Conri Church, but maybe she had learned more since their last encounter. Almost anything would help him. Some physical description aside from the missing limb. Where he might be found. Hands were tucked neatly in his pockets as he walked along at a leisurely pace, tail hanging limp at his back. Onus wasn't one to give up on a case, but the lack of progress was beginning to frustrate even the career vigilante.



As he neared the lake something was off. At first nothing came to his veiled gaze, but there was a feeling deep in his gut. Something was here that did not belong. A dark, ominous feeling pervaded the sparse trees and hills. Clawed feet stopped in the cold mud as his hidden onyx eyes scanned the area for whatever was lingering. Soon, through the rain and trees he was able to spot a monochromatic figure. A shock when down the man's spine as he looked at the wolf. He was too far away to be entirely certain, but from where he stood it looked as if the male had pitch black eyes. The same eyes that laid in his own head.

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#3
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OuO
Edit: Aww, damnit, I did it again, OnO. Oh well, I don't want to bother anyone about this one. Sorry about that!
500+



He felt it before he saw it. It was a feeling in the wind, or perhaps it was from the shadows themselves. The black maw lifted ever so slightly in acknowledgment of the premonition, but the black orbs did not shift. The black brute remained stationary, indifferent to that which would come. For now, the empty soul, with waters ever still, listened to the day as if he were waiting. It seemed as if he were always waiting. But untroubled by time, the crow wolf would wait. And he would lie in waiting like a serpent ready to strike, coiled with venomous fangs that dripped with the liquid that stilled life. And it dripped...just as the rain dripped. He heard the rain then, considering for a moment as if it had some great worth. But it was simply cold and wet and dead. And perhaps that was all that it needed to be.


And then he caught the movement. The black orbs shifted slightly, moving his line of vision to focus on that distant thing. It was, clad in a hat and coat, a coyote. The corners of his black lips tugged in a sneer. The pied wolf saw coyotes as inferior beings, inferior in every way. And he would not have given the male another thought until his gaze found him. The eyes were blindfolded, but the force of the gaze was unmistakable. There were eyes that saw, but what they saw, the brute did not know. The black auds lifted, rising like horns above his head as if listening to the silence that resonated from the coyote below. The Korean shifted then, sliding his paw forward in the wet earth that clung to his iron paw. The movement was strange, as if one would expect to hear the grating of stone against stone. It was as if the male had been brought to life by the presence of a living soul, as if alone, in his solitude, the male were unliving.


The crow wolf did not move to approach the blindfolded creature. And he was silent for a while as that fierce, fathomless gaze considered the other with a calculating look. The Korean’s posture, erected as always, straitened slightly, as if in silent challenge. And his lean, chiseled body that was exposed to the gelid world, welcomed the cold as if it harbored it there. His black lips parted slightly to reveal a fleeting flash of those hungering jaws, and that indiscernible grating that was his mirthless laughter clawed the air. That cruel maw lifted as the tenor voice rose in challenge, the howl powerful but empty, mocking and laughing. And as his challenge died within the raining world, the fathomless gaze returned to the other, those narrow, Korean eyes unrelenting, fierce and fathomless. A sneer splayed across his maw, and it was as mirthless and empty as that cool façade that was ever in place. He could play this game. It was one that he knew. And the world existed for him to play his games.

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#4
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Haha, no worries! Happens to all of us XD


I HOLD SECRETS FLAME


It didn't take long for the creature to see him too. It was then that his suspicions were confirmed. Deep dark eyes, like black holes, peered at him. He had seen such eyes stare at him from broken mirrors and puddles long ago. But these were different. These emanated a sense of darkness. Is that what his mother had seen when she looked in his eyes? No. That was bullshit. He was just a baby. The sense he got from this male was something that came from deep within. It only escaped his being through those empty eyes. The coyote's lips twitched as the wolf moved slightly. There was something almost familiar about the feeling he got from this man. But what...



Then it clicked like a trigger in his head. It was the same sort of air that Cwmfen had around her, but this was wholly opposite. While her's was light this creature's was as black as the darkest night. That odd ring of white around his shoulders reminded him of that raven he had seen the woman with the first time they met. It was only now that he noted how it had been absent from her the second time. As the brute let forth a horrible howl a growl rumbled in the masked man's chest and throat. This man was evil. A kind of evil he had never encountered before. More primeval.



His own white sabers glinted in the low light. Onus didn't have a full snarl on his mouth, but the tips of his canines peeked out beneath his slightly raised lip. He didn't move forward or back. He held his ground. What this being really was was a mystery and he would not barrel into something so unprepared. "What the fuck are you." The rough, monotone words were far from fearful. They gave as little hint at his emotion as always. Still, the man could feel his hair begin to stand on end as a loathing ran through his veins.

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#5
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Onus = awesome n____n
500+



The black auds pushed forward, ensnaring the growl that had been thrown at him by the throat of the other man. Now his sneering maw was distorted by a silent snarl, his jaws parting in that mirthless, twisted leer. The heat of his breath left his body, rising like the smoke of some infernal serpent, carrying anything that may have been left festering in the empty cavity of his soul. The crow wolf heard what that growl said, he heard the loathing that resonated in that sound as fear resonated from the hollow darkness of a cave. And he better understood this coyote, this masked creature. And perhaps he could further his understanding. Perhaps he would be able to taste his life blood that flowed so hotly beneath that pelt. And the Korean could almost feel it through the cold air the rain, could almost smell it and taste it. And the mild curiosity, that empty, maniacal sense of purpose that drove his existence, decided that he wanted it.


But the blindfolded creature did not bring himself closer, and the air between them, that dangerous space, shuddered with anticipation. The pied brute heard the shadows howl with impatience, but he did not move forward. The black tail flickered behind his form, carving a sinuous path through the darkness as the belly of a snake through the desert sands. And then that coyote spoke, his voice rough but unafraid. The sound fell upon his ears and the darkness of his fur and soul absorbed it. The cold façade wanted to laugh, and yet it could find no laughter in its heart. “Me?” The tenor voice was dangerously soft, his suave tones alluring. “I am the Darkness in the night.” And then that strange grating sound mangled the air, that sound that was a mirthless, empty laughter. And in that laughter was held his challenge. The muscles of the male’s body shuddered as if they did not belong to him, and the wanted the blood of the other man. But the Korean held them back with effortless control. No. He would not go to the other. He would never go to the other. But the coyote could come, and then he would embrace the man with his Darkness. The pied brute knew that there was a darkness there somewhere. He would break him, just as he would all things.


The black and white hackles rose in challenge, the wet fur rising like the thorns of a rose. The brute’s face smoothed, the cool facet allowed to endure. And that face was emotionless, cold and empty. The beauty of the male was distorted by that emptiness, made him seem terrible. Perhaps, had he chosen a different path, he would have been loved by many. But there was no love in that soul. There was nothing. It was a void, and he filled that void with the darkness of others. The black orbs watched him relentlessly through the rain, and he exhaled sharply as if in snide mockery. “Why don’t you come and dance with the Dark?” And that tenor sound was as empty as his soul, drawing the other nearer with those strange assuaging undertones. It was as if there were tendrils of darkness expelled from the sound of his voice, extending to the other’s ears like a poison.

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#6
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Big Grin <3


I HOLD SECRETS FLAME


When the beast spoke he had no doubt that what that horrible voice said was the truth. This wasn't some cocky asshole or mentally unstable lunatic. He was the darkness. The real darkness. Never before had Onus come across something so unquestionably evil. It was soaked in the stench of chaos. Unknowingly he had stumbled across a more dangerous opponent than he had ever faced before. He knew there was no way he could have predicted this moment, but being unprepared struck him to the quick. Yet he couldn't leave this creature here to prey on innocents. He doubted that would even be an option if his mind would let him. This may have been different, but it was still part of his mission.



Standing there still as the air around them his fingers invisibly felt through what he had in his pockets. Weapons were not things that he used in normal circumstances, but this was no normal circumstance. While only a last resort he did tend to carry some things that could be used to aid him if things came down to the wire. Fingertip felt the cold, sharp edge of a rather large piece of broken glass. He had picked it up in the city. A sick feeling entered his stomach. The time for stalling was reaching its final destination faster than a raging train. Mentally he steeled himself for what would begin in a matter of seconds. He would need his all for this.



The man felt the merciless laughter resound against his body. A clock ticked in the coyote's mind. He switched his weight to one foot, sinking it deeper into the soft ground. Once his footing was secure he darted off to the side, moving in a circular path. The trees and rain flew past his masked vision as it focused on the being of darkness. He ran behind his back and then when coming around to his other side was when he closed the distance. Claws at the ready he aimed to slash at the brute's tender side. Immediately afterwards his feet planted and backpedaled. The wolf had size on him and he was no fool.

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#7
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500+


The pied brute was as still as the other as he waited. Like that snake coiled within the earth, he waited. And his laughter was its hiss of warning. The black eyes that were as flat as that cold blooded reptile were unmoving, locked upon the hidden eyes that surely lay beneath that cloth. A pink tongue flickered out to taste the cold air and to tease the black lips that harbored the white teeth. He wondered what that blood would taste like, what it would tell him. He wanted to feel that hold, thick liquid in his jaws, flowing into him as the heart of the other betrayed him by pushing it forth. It was that betrayal of the self that intrigued the brute so, and perhaps he would have it today. He would have it today. And what of the coyote if he killed him? Or what if he were killed? The black orbs did not miss the hands that hid within that coat. What did they do in there beside hide from the rain? But these were trifle things. And if one were to die, they would die in the rain with their blood tainted by the earth. And if they lived...? The earth would be tainted in turn.


The moment was drawn out as the brute became stone, his torso only scarcely shifting as it rose and fell with his breathing. But he was not disappointed by the blindfolded thing. That thing finally moved, finally came to dance with the night. A sneer split his jaws as they parted, that smile almost maniacle as his form instinctively shifted to that fighting stance. With his knees slightly bent and his fists lifted, the black orbs inviting the attack of the other, drawing him in with his silence. And the smaller male was quick as he shifted, gaining footing in the loose earth and propelling himself. The male did not move from his place as if those claws rooted him to the spot, but his body moved back and forth, back and forth, in that ever ready rhythm of war. But the coyote did not come directly at him, moving off to the side and behind. And the male simply waited, allowing the other to come. And perhaps he waited a little too long.


A breath was released from that foreign throat, an exhalation that brought some strange precision to his movement. His already moving body pulled only his hips back, moving his body enough to withdraw from the coyote’s claws. But the Korean felt a single hook take his flesh, cutting and narrowly missing that deep scar upon his ribs. A soft growl like thunder ripped the air, but it was almost like a laughter. And then he was moving. The shadowed figure seemed to slide forward as he pursued that thing, and he was as quick and fleeting as the darkness. That empty gaze watched only the other’s face as he moved, his steeled, lean form closing in. Bringing his two fists together, he twisted them out, blocking from both sides the possible strikes from his opponents fist as he kicked low, then high, and in the middle with such speed, force and balance that the air almost whistled. But perhaps the other was just as quick and strong. He didn’t know. And it made this dance amusing.


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#8
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shortening things up for the fight


I HOLD SECRETS FLAME


This creature was an experienced fighter and Onus knew this would be a difficult battle. He was thankful when he felt one of his claws drag a superficial line in the man's side. It would take much more than that to defeat this thing, but at least his first attack hadn't been a total failure. It didn't take long for the monochromatic male to be right there on top of him as his feet moved backwards. Arms protected the wolf from Onus' fists so he didn't even try to waste the energy. He knew that in milliseconds he would be working to dodge an attack.



He saw the man's leg kick low and managed to get out of the way, but the quick succession of the high kick planted a pretty good hit on his collarbone. However before the last kick could hit a mark the coyote had purposefully fallen onto his back and rolled to the side. Rolling back onto his knees a clawed hand struck out at the beast's thigh, hoping to make a substantial mark. Then just as quickly as before he launched himself backwards. He was only vaguely aware of the dull throbbing in his shoulder. Masked eyes watched the creature carefully. If only he could manage to get on the brute's back...

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#9
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Hahah, maybe they should be archenemies xux I’m thinking of eventually killing Corvus off.... so if I did decide to do that, Onus could kill him? OuO
300+



His first kick had missed. But the second made contact, the force taking the coyote in the collar bone. Had it been a little higher, the crow wolf thought, it might have been a more effective attack, for the living cannot survive without their precious air. And the third only whistled in the air, the coyote’s fall effective. It was quite apparent to the Korean that this thing was aware of what he was doing, trained just as he in these martial arts, but not in the same manner. The clash of their skills was well worth the effort, but the male was not discouraged. He was not that type of creature. He would get what he wanted. He’d get that blood. Swiftly, the male shifted his footing, bringing down his heel like an axe, intent upon crushing the other man beneath him. But he shattered only the cold, wet earth as the blindfolded thing rolled out of the way.


The swift claws of the masked thing caught him surely in the thigh. The black brute only marginally backed off, as if he were willing to make the sacrifice of that wound for the close proximity. But even still the space was made, but it was less than it would been had the male himself retreated. He made no acknowledgment if any pain were felt, and that unrelenting leer of the empty darkness was the thing’s only given response. The male was silent as he moved forward once more, not waiting for the other’s next move. That empty being wanted to crush the other beneath him. The black claws of his hand unsheathed from their fists as they swiped at the other’s coat, but he intended only to hook him, to draw him near as he aimed a powerful roundhouse at the other’s ribcage, his twisted hip drawing in the power. As his leg recoiled, he aimed for the head with a crescent and with a laughing snarl.

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#10
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Yes they should! I would so be down for that, you have no idea! >D


I HOLD SECRETS FLAME


Apparently his spar with Cwmfen had been much more practical training than he had thought. This man fought as she did. The same kind of trained methods and attacks. Their's was an ancient art while his technique was purely individual. It was how he had learned to fight. His method was constantly changing and adaptive. He considered that a strength. Large ears had heard the dark creature's foot crash down into the wet earth that he had previously been occupying. A move that he had suspected since the woad fey had used it as well. As he launched back he came away with bloodstained claws. A red line was cut into the thigh of his enemy. But also as expected, the other showed no sign of pain, just as he did.



Soon the space between their bodies was gone again, as if pulled together by some cosmic magnet. He saw the clawed hand swipe at him and his torso dodged backward, the sinister claws catching only air. The first kick came towards him and he again did his best to move out of the way, but it did glance off his ribs. The vigilante made no noise though, no recognition of the hit. At the next kick he ducked low as he felt the beast's foot move the air above his ears. Right hand balled into a fist and he struck at the soft part of the dark wolf's side under his ribs. His other arm moved to protect his face and head as he took a few steps backwards. He needed to maintain the distance.

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#11
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Yay, awesome, haha ^=^
300+



The black brute’s kick had caught the in the ribs, but the attempt to dodge it had lessened the impact of the blow, if only barely. It was not enough to make the thing fall so that he could leap upon him like some creature feeding upon the dark. And there was a darkness in the other—he could smell it, taste it just as one could smell and taste his next meal. That was what he wanted. And the blood would let him know. (What kind of darkness was it, that darkness inherent in all creatures?) But once again the quick creature dodged his attack and kept that distance between them. A leer ripped across his maw as the darkness flickered in those fathomless orbs. While the technique used by the other was unfamiliar, perhaps even crude for all its effectiveness, it seemed as if the other had anticipated some of his moves. And that tainted mind wondered where he may have seen it....


As the masked man struck, the Korean’s instinct brought his hand down in an arc, the block executed with those eerily fluid movements. The block, executed with his own rolled fist, his wrist twisting, caught the other’s punch as he moved forward in pursuit, unwilling to allow the space between them to linger long. And suddenly the male’s face was washed by the coolness, and it whipped away even the leer. It was empty now, more dangerous than it had been as if signifying that this were no longer a game. "Why so intent to fight," that suave tenor came, "If you will continually part our inevitable union?" And there was a sinister flicker in those abyssal eyes as the obvious innuendo was spoken. The soft grating broke the silence as his arms rose in that boxer’s block, ever present to deflect the other’s attempts. Then he struck, jabbing once, twice, thrice with his left before swinging his right in a powerful arc with such celerity that it did indeed whistle in the air, his fur snapping with the speed of the fist that twisted with anticipation of contact.

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#12
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si! Big Grin


I HOLD SECRETS FLAME


The throbbing in his shoulder and ribs were of little consequence. Pain only got in the way. So his mind blocked him from it until the encounter was over. Even then he would take it with silent composure. What he did with his life came with the price of pain, but for him there was no other way to live. He could not have guessed that his mission would come to such a culmination here. Facing such a dangerous foe. Onus had never expected to face such a creature. Such a pure and unadulterated evil. He hadn't even been certain such a thing existed. And perhaps that had been a mistake.



His punch had been blocked by the man of darkness and he quickly rose to his full height again. The creature pressed closer and the coyote did his best to maintain a safe distance. He ignored the words thrown at him. They were only meant to goad him into being reckless. He was no green boy. He knew better. The cloaked male didn't even honor the words with a response. No point. Onus raised up his own hands in a similar matter and easily dodged or blocked the three left punches. While quick in succession he knew they did not hold great power behind them. That blow was to come after. He saw the right fist flying towards his head and his left hand caught it, holding it in place. As coyotes went, he was strong, and was able to hold the brute's arm. Almost right after he had negated the wolf's right hook he threw one of his own, putting as much force and strength behind it as he could spare.

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#13
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300+


The silence of the other only made the male smile. As he moved in the other punched, and the male’s hand instinctively came up, catching it. The technique that he used was made to deflect the strength, but he could feel the power of the other’s blow deep within his bones. But the proximity was more than enough. The creature welcomed it, his black soul needing to swallow up this male. He knew then, that this creature would be more than a mere acquaintance, could sense it like his own smell in the air. And so this determined what came next as he set himself within the cold, wet earth, the light cuts upon him weeping only slightly in the wind.


His own punch was blocked as he blocked the other with his left hand, and the two creatures were locked there, trembling with their effort. That cruel maw silently snarled, the corners of his lips curled in a terrible sneer. He was silent as the black orbs looked deeply into the place where the coyote’s eyes should have been before his hands opened, gripping the male with iron paws as his maw, that hungering maw, plunged into the bend in the male’s neck, his nose slipping beyond the scarf and coat like a breath of darkness. The teeth found their goal as they plunged themselves into that soft flesh, closing like the jaws of a steel trap. The blood flowed hotly and thickly into him, warming the cold, empty insides of the crow wolf. He had got what he wanted. He knew the other better than anyone would now. And with a snarl laced with his sinister ecstasy, he clenched deeper, drawing the blood as his arms brought the male closer as if in Darkness’ true embrace. All this in a single instance.

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#14
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I HOLD SECRETS FLAME


As the enemy caught his punch just as Onus had caught his, the man realized what a dangerous situation this had become. He was stuck. Stuck in close proximity with this being. He was already using all his strength to stay locked with the wolf and trying to release and move out of the way would be just as dangerous. If only he could reach into his coat and grab that piece of glass, stabbing it into the beast's throat. It was impossible now though. He gave no hint of his concerns, however. An almost invisible snarl moved his lips as hidden eyes stared straight back into those black holes. Never compromise. Never surrender.



What happened next he hadn't expected though. Eyes widened beneath the cloth as he felt those cold sabers sink into his neck and shoulder. A loud snarl ripped through the air and he snapped as best he could at the foul brute's head. Years. It had been years since an enemy had sunk their teeth into such a vital part of him. Hands gripped the male back, hoping to dig in as far as they could. He could feel the wolf clench his jaws tighter and pull him closer. No. Onus moved one foot to rest on the evil scum's cut thigh. Then he maneuvered his other foot onto the dark chest. This was going to hurt like hell and do more damage, but it was either that or succumb to this creature. He wouldn't let that happen.



With all his remaining strength that was quickly draining from him with his blood Onus pushed off from the dark man. He felt his flesh rip through the beast's jaws as he tore himself free. The coyote landed heavy in the mud. Immediately one hand flew to put pressure on the large wound. His breathing was becoming more labored, but he didn't move any further. Didn't move to run away. He sat there, blood leaking through his fingers, and stared at the dark bastard.

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#15
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Should we end this thread here and start the other one? PM me if you want me to start it,~ ^=^
500+



Those jaws drowned in the ecstasy as others did in the scent of a lover. The blood, thick and nourishing...and it did indeed nourish this creature. He breathed in deeply as his jaws, having gripped harder, forced the blood onto the waiting tongue that squirmed like a snake in that gaping hole. And his mind laughed, at what he tasted in that blood. The darkness was stronger in this being than in others, but it had not tainted the blood as it did others.... It was manipulated as it flowed through him, resilient to the male and the shadows that sought the wound with curious, violating tendrils. And he knew now why the male had attacked him; it had not been the simple provocation of a male defending territory or even demonstrating prestige. It had been something higher. With a sneer the male thought of his daughter who believed that she could overcome him. But he would show her otherwise. He had tasted her blood as well that day two years ago when he had made her believe that he had raped her, and while the darkness in her blood was resilient, it drew darkness into it, was drawn to it. And he would ravage her soon, making that day real and an illusion no longer.


His sadistic pleasures were interrupted as the male set his foot against brute’s leg. He felt the male prepare beneath him, and even as he knew something was coming, the male did not relinquish that hot elixir. He would let him drain and leave him for dead. Those fathomless orbs glittered with his mocking amusement as the creature within his arms threw himself away, and his jaws tore the flesh. The blood trailed after the coyote as if needing to return. But it was all in vain as that precious life fell dead upon the earth, abandoned in the cold and in the dark. The crow wolf only gave that snarling sneer as his jaws chewed upon the flesh and fur for a moment longer before he relinquished it too to the earth. His breath, hot with the other’s blood, rose visibly in the freezing air. The black orbs watched the fallen thing, considering him in the new light of this strangely obtained knowledge.


That body was still as the drizzling rain touched it tentatively. Then his posture straitened. He would not kill the creature—not yet. He was too precious an enemy to destroy so soon, and this game must be allowed to endure. It was not a sign of weakness or mercy, but simply a sign of the male’s character. For a while longer at least the male would allow the creature to live so that he may have his fun, for the brute had long since dealt with such a formidable enemy. And he recognized this. That they would be enemies and provide for each other an endless struggle until one of them would end up dead. It would be the ultimate game. Then the cold facet smoothed, resetting itself as he looked down at the thing. "Those who seek to end the Darkness are consumed by it," was the only thing the tenor sound warned before he slipped back into the darkness of the woods, not once turning his back on the creature as he disappeared like the darkness itself.

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