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Farther and farther her feet had taken Finn, deeper into the land she was now to call home. It was a strange feeling, wandering around this place without worrying about trespassing. The word was still alien, though, still foreign. Home? How long would this home last? Would it be a temporary place of shelter? Would she stay here through the winter, and then move on when it suited her? Finn didn’t know, there were so many questions. There had been plenty before, but the pile was growing higher and higher now that she actually had to interact with others on a daily basis she would actually have to start shifting through them.
Starting with houses. Finn pressed her nose through the bars in the fence, staring up with trepidation at the looming building. It was still quite intact, perhaps the wolves here had repaired it. There was quite a contrast between this place and the ruins of Halifax. She hated everything about it, from the dark, cavernous windows, to the dull, dead bricks. The thought of going inside made her skin crawl. But she’d have to learn. She’d have to try to like it. The gray wolf sighed through her nose, and squeezed through a gap in the fence. Her ribs, thin to begin with, had very little fat on them.
Hunting was never great for a lone wolf but lately, as the months grew colder, small prey was becoming more scarce too. She hadn’t eaten for a couple days, but it didn’t bother her. She’d traveled farther on less. Fought with less. Finn crossed the grass with her customary, swift, lengthy strides. The clouds above were already a stormy, bluish colour, but the shadow of the hotel blocked out the last of the sun. Finn hesitated, setting a paw on the threshold and peering through the open door. There were scents here, and some were recent, but none were fresh. She still felt like an intruder, even now.
”Figures,” She muttered, sitting down at the door. Always on the outside, looking in. Finn truly wished she could do away with all these feelings, murder them in their sleep. Then she wouldn’t be bothered. Then, everything would be sunshine and rainbows and she could return to the happy-go-lucky way of life she’d led before. Well, relatively happy-go-lucky. That is, if you thought happy-go-lucky meant running around, picking fights and getting marked up. Finn enjoyed that, she really did, and she missed fighting. But she had to be on her best behavior now.
She had to be a good, obedient little dog or else she’d get herself whipped. Still, the desire thrummed through her veins, the longing for the adrenaline that only came with life and death situations. But she just had to add that to her list of feelings to assassinate and everything would be all right.
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Svara jogged down through Chein hotel. It had been sometime since she had visited the area, and she had to admit to herself that she had missed it. She was in her wolf from red coat like rustic blood while her under fur was a carmel off white color. A large leather collar hung around her neck and along her red coat were her scars. They littered her body left and right. The word bitch had been carved into her back, while a large crossing off two scars was on her chest. They were her trophies, and her regrets all of them showed the misakes she had made.
Her paws were cold against the ground, it made her remember when she had first come to Dahlia de mai so long ago, her paws had been freezing then pads split with wounds. It had been so long ago to her, it was amazing how much time had come inbetween then and now. Taking in a deep breath she sat down and thought about the fight she and Firefly had had. It made her want to bit her own lip. She'd drawn blood on one of the only women she really loved. Maybe she wasn't capable of love anymore. That thought didn't bother her as much as it should have.
"Fuck that shit." Svara said tersly as she stretched her paws out in front of her letting her cropped tail still up in the air. The fresh scent of another wolf made her ears flatten on her skull as she went back to sitting. Why was someone out here so late at night? The scent of the pack member was also one she hadn't smelt before, it wasn't unlikely there were new memebers in her absense. Moving forward she decided to ignore the other wolf unless adressed, she wasn't in any mood for friendly banter.
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Finn’s single ear perked at the mutter, and her pale eyes peered through the gloom. Another wolf was approaching, slipping out of the gloom inside the hotel. Finn almost slunk away, almost hid. But then she caught sight of the other wolf’s scars. Finn drew in a breath, tilting her head to the side. She’d heard the terse mutter, could see the angry light in the other female’s eyes, but it didn’t matter. Finn, when she came upon another so scarred, so battered, she felt a kinship. They had both been put through hell, and they were still here.
Something could be said for wolves who clung to life so tenaciously, so strongly that no matter how they were cut, and clawed, and bit, they remained still standing, still defiant of death. Though, of course, Finn could be reading too much into it. She might just have been desperate to project, desperate to find a fellow soul. At least, when she was a loner, she’d had shared the life with all the other loners she came across. Now, she had no common ground. The wolves in this pack had each other, had mates, had children even. Finn had nothing but a past she would have gladly traded and some scars she wouldn’t have exchanged for anything in the world.
”Hey,” Finn said quietly, looking the other wolf in the eye. She wasn’t sure what to say, what to do. ”Nice to see there’s another insomniac around here.” The insomnia had started only a couple days ago. Right after… Right after she had slept with Rurik. Night after night, she’d lain awake, eyes wide and fearful, starting at every little rustle and hoot of the owls. Alastair was always nearby, sleeping with one eye open, but even that hadn’t been enough. Her father still haunted her dreams, stalking through them like a ragged, bug-eyed spectre. Finn just wanted some peace of mind.
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Most went out of their way to avoid her. It was obvious why when you looked at the scars and the deadly yellow eyes. She figured this time would be no different, and the other wolf would leave her be. She couldn't be so lucky. The darkness was comforting, but not enough to hide her from the company of the dark wolf. Svara grunted rudely but stopped and faced the other she wolf. There was no surprise when she saw a wolf with scars, there were many wolves with scars, weather the other she wolfs were a match for her own wasn't something Svara really carred about.
Giving the approaching she wolf a condensending glance she waited for the words to fly. It wasn't long before they did. "I'm far from an insomniac. That would require me to be afraid of something." Svara said sarcasticlly. Watching with her deadly yellow eyes the red she wolf couldn't figure why the dark girl had wanted to speak with her. The scars had done their job half the time, and most left her alone because of them. "Did you want something?" She said dully.
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”I don’t know,” Finn said, taken aback by the she-wolf’s rudeness. She let out am unhappy sigh. Well, this was going great. The first wolf she meets in the pack doesn’t even want to speak to her. Finn truly hoped this wasn’t what it was going to be like with everyone. She shuffled her feet, trying to stamp a little warmth into them. With those cold, golden eyes boring into her, the normally garrulous Finn was tongue-tied. What could she say to a wolf like this? Nice night? How are you? Want to be BFFs? No, none of that would do. She could tell that much already. So she tried for common ground.
”If you don’t mind me asking, how’d you get those scars?” Finn gestured with her snout towards the various marks on the other wolf’s body. She really hoped that this wouldn’t end in a rebuff, but this one didn’t seem to be in much of a mood to talk. Finn scenting the air discreetly, and caught the coppery taste of blood roiling about the red female. Wolf’s blood. Finn tilted her head again, and stared back, giving as good as she got. The silence rose as she sat there, filling up the air like something corporeal.
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Svara gave a bored glance to the dark she wolf. Her yellow orbs didn't even have a spark of interest in them. Her old self would have loved the chance to cause trouble, to irritate someone so willingly to talk to her. She didn't really have an appaettiet for trouble. The metalic taste of Firefly's blood was still on her tounge, with it also came the bitter taste of guilt. She had had no right to hurt the women. Growling it took all her will to stay where she was and not leave the twit behind.
It was humerous to watch the girl grasp for some form of conversation between them. Why did she want to talk to her anyways? Svara did everything in her power to make her outward apperance intimidating. The "fuck you" look was good for keeping people away. When the dark girl finally presented a question Svara couldn't help but snort. Was she really asking such a juvinille question? "I thought I was to pretty." She said with dry sarcasm. Why the hell was she still standing here?
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I just realized, spitfire is an awesome word. XD Perfect description for Svara.
Finn let out another breath, furrowing her eyebrows at the wolf. ”Are you always like this?” She said, bolder now with vague exasperation, ”Or is this just the newcomer special?” This was going nowhere fast, but Finn intended to at least make a dent in the conversation. ”Since you aren’t so keen on talking, can I just have your name? I’ll bother you no further after that.” Finn wasn’t very easy to rile, but she hadn’t come across a wolf this irritable in years. Maybe it had something to do with the blood she scented. Maybe not. Maybe this wolf was a spitfire all year ‘round.
Finn hated to push when there was so much passive-aggressive resistance. If the wolf had just asked her for a fight, Finn would have done it in a heartbeat, though she would have tried her best to keep from wounding her opponent. Finn was okay with brawls, but mauling another pack member on her first day was a little much. Sometimes a little spat could work wonders, but Finn doubted that a simple sparring match would ease the kink in this one’s nose. So, the gray she-wolf just sat, watching the other with the infuriating calm of a meditation master. Your move, ginger.
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Svara gave her a glance that said it all. Her yellow eyes held humor and slight interest. "Yes I'm always a bitch. Not everyone can shit rainbows and sunshine." The red she wolf chuckled out enjoying her obtrusive nature. Since she had no problem convying her nature, Svara figured she should have even more fun. Stalking closer to the she wolf she stopped right before her, leather collar hanging loose around her neck, and her scars even more persevable.
The red she wolf was tall on her long legs and her lean body, she wasn't small in the least, but she wasn't all that intimidating either. "Svara. That's my name. Am I garanteed you'll leave me alone now or do you want to just chill here and exchange scar stories?" Her voice was dry and none to welcoming, a fire snapping at the end of it. Then again she never had a welcoming voice.
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”If any wolf could ‘shit rainbows’ I would stay far away from them.” Finn said, catching the humor and quirking an eyebrow. Sure, Finn was definitely more friendly and inviting than this wolf, but that didn’t mean she could stand for any large length of time those perpetually upbeat creatures who bounced around as if on speed. The wolf came closer, and Finn didn’t move, a solid gray statue in the half-light of the moon. She could see now that the red one was wearing a collar, a thought that intrigued her and even aroused a little bit of alarm. Did they collar themselves here? What a strange and off-putting practice. Jacquez hadn’t been wearing one, but he was the king, and kings were often exempt from their own laws.
”I lied,” Finn said, flicking her ear again, amusement coloring her voice, ”That was just a ploy to get you to actually start talking. I’m Finn, by the way.” She looked at the other wolf, then down at her paws. Scar stories, she always was fascinated by them. She wiggled her toes on the dirt, the dark soil showing through where she was missing one or two. ”So, shall I start? Or do you have any particularly interesting tales to tell about how you got those?” She gestured with her muzzle to the assortment of cicatrices. Her eyes lingered over the large X across Svara’s chest.
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She glanced at the girl skeptically. What did she really want? Or was she so bored she really wanted to converse about scars? The red she wolf kept to her paws, her docked tail resting at the moment, awaiting the time it would rise to show her anger. Lifting her nose to the air she took a deep inhale before deciding she had nothing better to do. Letting her rump rest on the cool dirt, Svara wondered how much she would tell a stranger. Would she lie? Lies were always fun, and they didn't hurt her because she didn't care.
The girl spoke again and it made the she wolf grin. Those light eyes creased her collar and the large X over her chest. It was an interesting feeling to have the wolf so interested in how she had retrieved it. Their weren't many souls in the world that Svara would tell how she had recieved the X on her chest. Getting to her paws again Svara came closer to the she wolf almost shoving her nose into the other girls. "Does my collar turn you on?" Svara started to move around her in a sensual prowl. "Don't you like bondage little girl?" Svara let her husky voice linger as she came to stand beside the she wolf again. "My scars have a purpose, just like my collar."
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Finn nearly went cross-eyed when Svara shoved her face close. The scent of blood was stronger now, as the red wolf’s hot breath curled through Finn’s fur. She swallowed, still wearing the vaguely amused expression. When Svara started to slink around her, she nearly laughed. ”Turn me on?” Finn considered this for a moment, turning the thought over in her head with objective disinterest. ”No, it doesn’t.” Lie, lie, lie. Though it wasn’t so much the collar as it was Svara breathing in her ear. Those bright, golden eyes were so vicious and predatory, it was hard not to be interested. But Finn had become a master of hiding such feelings a long time ago. She remained blank, watching Svara with her single ear perked.
”They are your history, correct? Stories carved into flesh.” Said Finn. She resented the little girl comment. The gray wolf had never been a great judge of age, but she could tell that Svara was at least a couple months younger, if not more. She didn’t call it out though, preferring to let the wolf play her little game. Things were always more interesting when just observed, and not interfered with. ”At least, that’s what I think mine are. These scars are the places I’ve been to, the things I’ve seen, the people I’ve fought. And killed.” She added the last sentence offhandedly. Finn took no pleasure in killing, only fighting. But when it was life or death, there really wasn’t a choice.
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Svara was starting to enjoy the exchange between her and the other wolf. The dark she wolf seemed to want to talk to her, but Svara had still not figured out why. Moving around the female more so her hot breath was in the girls ear she couldn't help but grin at the response she got to her question. "You don't want to touch my scars?" Svara asked as her husky voice trailed over Finns ear. She was enjoying this game, a mild form of torture or just embarrassment.
Pulling back she passed her making sure her docked tail skimmed the girls shoulder as she did. Sitting down with her back to the girl she shrugged. "Stories, mistakes, sexual encounters. They are what ever the person looking at them wants." Svara said all to willingly. This girl wouldn't understand that more then half of the scars were from some male trying to dominate her. Her largest scar had almost killed her, but like every other time she had survived. Wasn't the world just peachy.
She wanted to see the girl twitch. Svara wanted to push her farther and play even more. Turning around the red she wolf moved up close again. "This scar the large one on my chest, I got it while three males took me. One would thrust while the other ripped me open." Svara let a grin rest on her lips. "You still not turned on?" Now a full blown sadistic smile was on Svara's face. She was enjoying this more then she had expected.
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Nice avatar. ^^
”I am a big fan of keeping my hands to myself.” Finn replied sardonically. Well, that wasn’t really the complete truth either. She like to touch, but not in the way Svara was thinking. Finn enjoyed the feeling of rending flesh with her claws, of biting into fur. The whole soft, gentle touches was something she was not entirely comfortable with. It took a lot of effort not to shrug away as Svara made another pass, but Finn was determined not to play by her rules. This had turned, from a simple, brusque conversation, into a competition. And Finn was gunning to win it.
”Besides, I don’t have any hands.” She said, lifting a paw. She had not shifted for the first time, and did not want to. She clung to her original form like a drowning man. She didn’t want to forget what she was. That said, the urge to shift was driving her batty. It was like someone had poured ants beneath her fur. It wasn’t itchy, but Finn felt as if she had to slip out her skin like some kind of snake. Finn chuckled at Svara’s next words. ”Notches on your bedpost, like?” She hadn’t had any of those. Any male who had tried anything with Finn had promptly become a gelding.
The red wolf came close again, and Finn stared her down, pale eyes boring into the gold. The story was horrific, but Svara was probably lying just as much as Finn. The gray wolf smiled, her lips drawing up to match Svara’s vicious grin. Slowly, Finn leaned forward till her muzzle was right by Svara’s ear. Nope.” She whispered, then back away and laughed again. She was enjoying herself immensely, there was something very pleasurably about lying, and knowing that the person your lying to knows you’re lying. The best part was the lack of guilt. Finn settled again, relaxed in posture, but still on her toes.
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Svara rolled her yellow eyes at the she wolf. Svara didn't even flinch when her maw came to her ear and the no was breathed into the creases of her aud. Letting her ears lay flat on her skull she gave the grey she wolf a pout to show how unsaticfied she was. "Won't play my game? How fucking rude." Svara said teresly before turning on her and stalking away, her head low and the leather collar hanging loose around her neck.
Leaving the girl behind Svara looked over her shoulder once. "Your no fucking fun." Svara said it with a rude glare before she continued to walk away. She didn't really want to talk to the female to begin with, but she also didn't want to be bored anymore then she had to. The moon was lighting her path enough to give her a route to take. If the female followed her she would probably get angry. The red she wolf had no problem with picking a fight.
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This will be my last post. I had lot’s of fun rping with you! Maybe Finn and Svara can meet again in the future.
Finn broke into full laughter then, watching Svara as she stalked away. She was acting like a small child who hadn’t gotten her way, and Finn was quite thrilled to be responsible for that. The young wolf was obviously in even more of a temper than before, so Finn let her go, the grin still hovering round her eyes. She couldn’t say she liked Svara, but she enjoyed that devil-may-care attitude. Perhaps they would meet again when she wasn’t so obviously annoyed with the world. Finn yawned and stretched, looking away from the retreating figure in the dark and towards the hotel.
She had to conquer this stupid fear, she had to master it. She wasn’t going to live outside in the snow while the rest of the pack were all holed up, toasty warm and comfortable! She’d get herself a room, maybe even some blankets. Maybe she’d be all daring and start a fire. It was a ridiculous fear and she was tired of living like this. Finn straightened, and set a paw upon the threshold. A shiver passed through her once again, but this time she shook it off, and disappeared into the gloom of the large, stone building.
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