Werewolf's v.s. Vampires

[theliontamer♥]

Carefully, the dark haired creature leaned forward, catching Shawn’s words as they rode on the wind, a smirk playing on her darkly stained lips. Adversaries, perhaps, on a personal level, they would be, merely because the craving for power and deceit bound them each so tightly. But allies of strength and untold power--certainly. Her smirk widened and she rose her pale white fingers, clasping his quickly. “We shall see then, the both of us,” she smirked, not conceding an inch, as she grasped his promising words. “And you have information and allies that will be of much use to me, Shawn.”She enjoyed that he tried so to grasp at power, but ever slippery ledge gave way and left them evenly in control. She would have laughed aloud at his attempt; his insincere assurances that their alliance fell only because he could use her. True, he could use her, but she too would use him. And uselessly, for the thought would never grace her mind and only cause anger, the notion that they needed each other more deeply than believed hung heavily in the air.

War was no pretty picture. Kanika had seen horrors of war; she had learned last time that false alliances and promises held no meaning when death lurked around the corner. A tear of flesh obscured her vision, seeping with immortal blood, rushing forth and destroying bonds. No, she would never admit that she needed these alliances, that her very life could depend on a truth spoken this very moment. She could only concede that strength was founded in their pact, and that this strength came only from the honesty behind the promise. She was not weak, alone, but survival dictated company, and she would obey.

“Your words hold petty meanings, Shawn. Mere orders of business, spewed to sound collected. You know as well as I that when war breaks loose and battle threatens life, any ally will be at your command. I do not,” she commented carefully, a snarl playing her lips, “make light of my connections. While you may extend one innocent hand towards me and clutch a knife in your other, I offer you both. I do hope you understand my meaning. Whilst war hangs heavy in the air, you have my word as your loyal ally. My resources are yours, at any cost. I hope you will allow the same of me. But do not be deceived, for once war has passed, we shall have been as before: two strangers with an uncommon similarity. I only know what I have heard the wind whispering of you, and I do not intend to know more.” A gush of wind fell over her, sweeping the dark hair from her face. Her eyes lit with an impasse of emotion. For now, there would be trust. The fierce warrior she had become, the strategic mistress of battle stepped forth, watching with cold eyes her domain, her world, waiting for the next piece to fall. She would play. She would gather her pawns and coordinate with the counsel, turning her wise eye towards not victory or glory, but to the oppression of those she hated most. “Whether you give your sincerest word or not, I shall know. We shall be in touch, I assure you this. As allies or bitterest enemies, lest your word be false and intentions untrue.”

[theliontamer♥]

Theoris smiled cruelly, appeased with Elena’s stupidity on matters of supernatural grace, and nodded. “Fiction and truth may be more interrelated than you have ever dreamed,” she encouraged coldly, choosing to ignore, for now, her question. She rose a hand dismissively and turned her glare upon Elena. Her sudden bravery was becoming an annoyance. “I fear that Death will flee screaming from the likes of you,” she smirked, “for you will plague it with questions until it can stand you no more.”
She laughed, a detached sound that echoed loudly within the confines of the alley, and gazed about. “What a strange way to claim immortality! Yes, Death would beg for one such as myself to claim you.” Her grin widened, sadistically, and by now she was enjoying herself far too much.
The wind blew at her hair and battered her crème skin as the chill tried in vain to afflict her. Finally, unable to bring wild goose bumps arching across her flesh, it ceded, dying away into the calmness of the night. “Elena, most stories are indeed rooted in fact. Let’s see if we can piece together this horror tale before it snatches you as well.”
Calmly, Theoris circled the standing mortal. “A shame, no, to learn these precious bits of information only to have no use for them,” she laughed, eyeing Elena. “Oh, yes, all these things mortals should not know. Monsters try very hard to keep themselves as such; shadows thrown against the wall or branches scraping the windows. Oh, Elena, no one can vouch for monsters, to affirm that what you hear following you in a dark alleyway is indeed a hunching werewolf, waiting to leap. Do you know why?” She gathered that the startled woman before her did not, nor should she, and continued, her voice jovial as though she discussed the summer weather or her newest gown. “Anyone who’s gotten close enough dies.”
“Oh, Elena,” Theoris tutted softly, rolling each letter roughly off her tongue, “you are either strong or dead. Surely you realize this by now. Your options are running low…” Theoris pursed her stained lips and cocked her head, staring intently at Elena, lips melding into a smile once more. “You are smart enough to realize fleeing would be suicide, and attempting to better me is far more dangerous. Oh, dear. You’ve asked what I am,” she finally addressed Elena’s probing question, “But dear, dear. Have some manners. You should first ask my name, before inquiring as to these personal matters.” Theoris looked put out, but the disappointment etched into forehead proved as real as her concern for propriety. “I go by Theoris. Elena, isn’t it much better to know, at the very least, the name of your worst fears? Now we should take it slow. Discussing werewolves and war,” Theoris slipped, waving one hand airily, “as though old friends. How foolish of,” and here she paused, her airy nature dissolving and giving way to her icy stares, “you. Since we are now acquainted,” Theoris smirked again and paused in her thought, “though I rarely care to know the name of my food! -- I suppose I may tell you what manner of being I am. You see, Elena, the werewolves that have killed your friend so gruesomely are my most bitter enemies. Our war has raged for hundreds of years, only once as violently as this. You saw what they can do--and what they do, so carelessly. They rip from mortality the very essence of life and innocence, never once stopping to think of who they may be destroying. Oh, no, they are vile and brainless creatures, lusting only for blood and sex, without reason and certainly without love. Do you hate these creatures, Elena?” Theoris cooed, drawing closer and raising her hand as though gesturing to the portrait she had avidly began to paint. “Just think how they kill, so mercilessly, so coldly. Brainless, I assure you, such that raw flesh may be their one coherent thought.”
Again she circled Elena, watching her carefully, gauging her reactions. “My kind works against these vile beasts. Elena, we seek revenge for their misdoings. Others will befall the same fate as your friend lest we annihilate them quickly. You don’t want others to suffer as this dear friend of yours has. Oh, just think of the devastated family, and how terribly they must ache. Wouldn’t you, too, desire revenge?”

[theliontamer♥]

Rachel gazed back to him, the desolate wailing image shattering before her eyes and crashing upon the ornate rug they trampled on. Beautiful, she wanted to laugh, to gaze at him with deep brown eyes and shake her head. No, not beautiful. “Truth is beauty,” she said, a forced smile lighting her face, “And in learning the truth I found what you have declared beautiful. This life, this power…it was always a part of me. I suppose I was so emancipated as I watched the pieces falling together that pain had no place in my transformation.”
Truth is not beauty, she declared to herself, cynically, suppressing the untold portions of her story. Truth destroyed my family. Truth exposed the cruelty of humanity and monstrosity alike. Truth shattered everything.
She would not say this aloud.
As he finished speaking, Caius looked her way. Rachel was gazing intently back at him, nodding slightly.
“I understand. What you mean, that is. How strange it is, for me to imagine my life had I not woken that night in cold sweats. Had I my curtains shuttered against the staring moonlight, had I been a normal child, what fate would befall me then?” Rachel asked pensively, turning her head to the side. “I am unable to imagine life had I been allotted a different slot. Perhaps it is shortcoming on my part, for I lack the imagination. But it is strange, strange to consider such an alternative.”
This statement was only half-truth. A mortal life would be simple to consider, had complications not existed with drastic implications. Her mother, her sister. Rachel sighed quietly, smiling again. Knowing what she did now, she would have given anything to remain blissfully mortal in that tiny town, growing and learning and falling into a proper woman’s place, as she had always thought she would.
But she did not dictate her own life; no, she was cursed from birth. Be it her mother’s grave infidelities or her own fate, Rachel was destined to paw through life, battling to live and harnessing a power much greater than she could control. There were moments when she could not accept this. There were moments when she dreamed to be mortal, dreamed to live and die trapped in that tiny little haven. She hated those moments.
Her weakness, and she hated them. She survived, and her weakness would vanish little by little, for every new day she saw.
Distracted, Rachel nodded, mumbling her apologies for boring him as he slipped through the door. The quiet manor watched her, fidgeting in her chair, a stranger in every way. She gazed about, from the ornate hangings to the dark eyed tapestries that clad the walls. Glorious beings, wolves, the walls spoke to her, praising her, eyeing her, comparing her to the great Lucian and powerful Caius. Her strangeness discouraged them, turned them to scrutinize and analyze, and she could not stand the accusing stares. What made her any less powerful? She wished they would answer her. Lucian, though ancient, had once been mortal. And Caius, younger though wiser, was a mortal too! Only Rachel had pure werewolf blood running through her veins. From birth she had been part of this warring clan, a fierce warrior waiting to be freed. From her very youth she had been powerful, tall and strong, and whilst she was human she was not mortal.
Softly, she laughed. She was nothing, nothing compared to Lucian and Caius, who had lived as wolves for years before her birth. No, no, she was but an infant, grasping at pride and justifying her place in their world. Someday perhaps, she reasoned, though not now. Now she would listen, and learn from these beings.
“Caius?” she called, rising, pushing the chair silently behind her. The silence of the halls had made her crave the warmth and comfort of his companionship.

[Her Royal Highness]

Elena nearly laughed herself at the idea of death running from her questions -- had it not been for the persistent air of menace that enveloped Theoris. The threat was like a layer with long reaching arms that extended towards her, thin and invisible yet clearly present, stopping only inches from her face.

Immortality. How was it that Theoris, this woman before her could claim the ability to impart such a dreadful gift? Was she playing with her again? Elena shuddered. No. Up to this point their discourse had shown her that Theoris enjoyed leaving her poignant, if unexplained clues about her revelations, as her teasing way of preparing her to accept the incredible. She felt sure this new hint was no exception. Her words continued to threaten as they moved further towards enlightenment. Each new indication left Elena with the terrifying feeling that she should inquire no further, indeed, that she had already asked and learned too much. Enlightenment. The word sounded strange now since each new ounce of understanding pulled her further and further into a darkness whose existence she had previously been oblivious of. Yet still she racked her mind for any more of the stories she had once heard her great-grandmother mumbling in her senility - something to counter the one she was currently faced with. Food. Theoris had referred to her as food... it was another horrifying clue that she could not allow herself to dwell on.

"You speak to me of options." She wondered now that her voice kept coming out of her mouth. Wouldn't any other human being be cowering, begging to be spared whatever unknown fate this terrible angel planned to impart? "If they are indeed running out as you say, then pray keep them to yourself, for nearly every word you speak clearly warns me that I have inquired and learned too much. And yet, despite all your warning, you enlighten me willingly, eagerly, even."

Oh how easily Theoris' words were to stir up her anger -- at what had been done as well as at her own powerlessness in the face of it. But the suddenness of the emotion made her wary. She had never been quick to hate. What was the extent of Theoris' power that she could influence the emotion of others?

"Revenge? It seems it is you who wants vengeance, and you who wish me to desire the same. No. I want it to end, that other families might be spared such horrifying losses. But I have no desire for revenge." But she questioned herself. Was it because she truly had no desire for vengeance? Or was it that she knew any means of retribution lay beyond the grasp of her own capabilities?

"As for my fears," she continued, "you know of them already. So unless you be death itself," her own stab at morbid humor, though weak, strengthened her voice if not the rest of her, "then you are wrong to claim that your name is such. You may think me bold - you've indicated as much. But you'll find that even among those you spurn for weakness in comparison to you, there are some that have pride of their own. You may prove to be more terrible than anything i have or will encounter in my life, and I know not what you intend with me, but I will not give you the amusement of running from you or the satisfaction of begging for mercy."

[brentjoyce]

Shawn let out a slight laugh “If my words hold petty meaning then we should stop wasting our breaths and begin to shed blood.” His voice roared with a deep and wise tone. “Now, I know that my word and my actions are relatively new and you may not trust them. I insist thought that you take them and hold them to their value, as it is to say don’t build a bridge and burn it in the process Madam.”
Walking with a gentle step he made a circle around Kanika remembering every little detail about her. The eyes that she wore so coldly where coming in and out of focus when the silk strands of hair would obscure them and her dress waved in the cold night breeze. Finally he began to walk towards the exit of a widow on the far side of the building. All this time he forgot that he left his mortal ally Labanius alone with another vampire. Feeling as if he needed to make amends for leaving Labanius out in the cold Shawn begun to leave as if his words where final.

Suddenly He turned around and looked at Kanika “I know this cityscape very little how would I find you?”

[theliontamer♥]

“Perhaps revenge was too harsh a word, Elena. You wish for these terrible creatures to be quelled, am I correct? Might I assume that you desire their killings to cease? Any compassionate creature would, and I see compassion pouring forth from you. Did you not, as I recall, step forth from the sanctity of your home to tend to the dead? As of right now you might have been safe beneath your cotton sheets, dreaming of princes and kings, and all manners of happy things. But the compassion for your friend brought you to gruesome realities. Elena, I cannot see you supporting what these vile beasts have done.” Theoris tilted her head slightly, a torrent of red curtaining one side of her face, and gazed intently at Elena. “They are powerful creature, as I’m sure you have realized. But so are we. We seek to end their path of destruction,” she cooed in friendly tones. “They feed solely on human flesh. So you see, there is no way to reconcile them with us. So we do as we must, shadowing them in the night and eliminating them, one by one. You must agree, mustn’t you, that they must be eliminated? Just imagine the terror they spread! Oh, Elena, imagine those moments when a father returns from work to find his children and darling wife slain, their guts laid out cruelly across his stone floors. It is not revenge, then, for we have no stake in their gruesome dead, but we desire mercy for their actions. Mercy, Elena, do you not look to it?”
She fell quiet and listened; listened to the steady, terrified beating heart, the distant howls that were not really there, and the call of mercy engulfed by violent war. Pretty words, she smiled, pushing the red curtain back to its’ place, pretty words dripping with a hundred year feud. “You want it to end, so you’ve said. Surely you would rise to action if called?” Now, curiously, Theoris drew near. What exactly, she pondered, was Elena afraid of? Death? Theoris’ smirk widened. She could banish Death from her realm for eternity.
“Or would you let these vile, brainless beasts live? Sooner or later one would find you, especially if you trek about the city, playing healer and savoir. Soon enough one will find you, backing you into a dark corner and gripping your flesh with cold, cruel claws. Listen to my terrible descriptions, do not pretend as though you do not hear! Elena, they will rip your flesh from your bones, guzzling your blood. And no one will be able to save you from Death, who shall surely come for you. Let me also leave you with this. They know my scent, Elena. And in their limited capacity, they will not hesitate to lunge forth, attempting to destroy whatever sparks their tiny memories. They are not intelligent enough to discern you from me, and if they had been close enough to catch my scent on you, they would surely not pass up an opportunity to taste your sweet mortal blood.”
Of course, Theoris mulled lazily, if she refused, she would not live long enough for the werewolves to find her.

[theliontamer♥]

Curtly, the slender Eygptian nodded, smirking at Shawn's words. "Very well, Shawn. I accept your words at face value for now, though I place my implicit trust in you. Realize, though, that if I find mistrust or falsity within your words, I shall not hesitate to seek my revenge. I daresay we shall meet again soon, once more news and battles arise."
The wind whistled through the alley way and she gazed away from Shawn, instead fixing her attentions on a wobbling shingle. A gust of wind pushed it from the rest, possessing every fiber and sending it spiraling from the roof in a suicidal leap. This amused her, and she contemplated it momentarily. Shawn had stepped away from her, but this she did not care about. No, it was the violent clatter the shingle made as it crashed upon the ground, splinting into several jagged pieces. "The terrors of a fragile life," she commented to herself, turning her attentions sharply to Shawn. "Such tragedy."
Two sharp fangs cut into her lower lip as she snarled a smile, but they were hidden quickly from view, the only reminder two white indents on her rouged lips. "You fidget as though you have matters to which you must attend. I shall no longer occupy your time, as I too have errands of importance. You must know that I am not difficult to find. You might find me in every fiber of this city. Should you need me, you may seek my villa, just on the eastern outskirts of the city. Or you may look to Theoris, a companion, who may know of my whereabouts. I do not believe meeting will be our issue."
Kanika turned from Shawn, a final gesture. "Fare thee well, Shawn. We will meet soon." Her promise hung in the air for a brief moment before she lept from sight, morphing from a statuesque creature of the night to a hunching shadow moving through the streets. Silently she swept through the town, crawling from street to street with no pattern in mind. Was she searching now? She was unsure. But she had caught his scent; it had been his, unmistakably. Vainly she shook the desire from her thoughts, changing course several times but always pursuing that which sought her.
Finally she came to a dark alleyway, near the heart of the city. The heavy scent of wolf hung in the air, obscuring her every breath with its overpowering stench. Disgusted, she ceased her breathing, annoyed that she tolerated such conditions to seek him.
"Lucian!" she called, demanding, angry. "You've been looking for me? Why then, did you force me where it reeks of your kind?" Despite her dangerous proximity, she did not fear; she did not listen warily for an impending attack.
No. Lucian would not do such a thing.
He may threaten, and he may gaze to her with terrible promises and hateful curses, but he would not raise so much as a paw to her in true warfare. And nor would she, though she insisted time and time again that she cared not for him.

[lions_go_rawr]

ooc: seems as though we need some more werewolves in this thing. watch out people...

bic:

The man cowered in fear before her. He did not even think to run from her. Pity.

It wasn’t that she did not enjoy the slaughter that lay in her waste as she ran from the scene; she loved it. She loved the feeling of her claws slicing through the frail mortal tendons and muscle. The screams of pain and terror as her fury came down upon countless human beings. The killings were not always in cold blood though, oh no. There were times when she could not even overcome the undying need to just taste human flesh. She had come to find it one of nature’s most charming delicacies. There were no stories or myths of the past telling of the flesh being ripped from bone for just sustenance, only for the sheer joy of killing. “Bloodthirsty animals” and “beasts of night” were just some of the few common names for her kind. Hell, since the coming of her existence, she had thought it was nothing more than her own doing that these names had been coined.

Scotland has just been too small of a place for her to roam. She had run herself out of France on her own terms. Germany too. The Eastern European countries were never any interest to her. There were close calls in which she was almost caught, but dammed would her captors be if they managed to keep her confined for more than a few minutes. The pureblood of a werewolf ran through her veins, giving her power beyond any mortal’s wildest dreams. She shared the memories of wolves from the past, as well as holding the mental connection with other wolves that drew near to her, whenever that time may be. The only place left for her to inhabit was Spain. She dare not try to travel across the seas to find some new place to survive. These lands were her home. They were her people’s home, and she would not leave the lands that were so righteously her own. She was pure. She was strong. She was wolf.

The weak humans, two to be exact, that she left bleeding out, if that is truly the term while their limbs lay dismembered in a pile on the stone roads, would not be the last of her kills in her home. To her, the mortals were simply in the wrong place at the right time. She had not stalked these victims down as her enemy would have. The scum disease known as vampires had come to roost like birds to a nest. They were everywhere. She could smell the vampires, feel their presence in the stone walls of the city. They were biding their time, growing stronger. But what for, the female had no information. She had lay silent for too long, blending in during the weeks without the moon. Only in the week of did she feel her strength return. It fueled her. These humans were just disposable pawns in a game bigger than they would ever imagine.

She knew that there were others of her kind, running about somewhere in the city like a pack of wild dogs. Three, she knew that was a number of a small group of them. Apparently an ancient had summoned the likes of a once human, and what seemed like another pure blood such as herself. Never in her existence had she known of two purebloods meeting by chance. This was a sign, as there were many in the recent months. Something was coming, something big. Maybe this ancient knew, maybe his younger counterpart knew, or even this pureblood who had wandered into town. Whatever knowledge they held though, she would find out.

She would know. Moira always knew.

“I’ll know what they know,” she said to the man, who knew not of what she meant.

She was off running before his snapped neck hit the ground.

[The Wolfman]

Lucian crawled out from behind the metal gate that enclosed his monor, the ancient Eygyptians the two of them standing close in the light. Lucian's skind was a dark brown with a hint of gold to it "My dear Kanika, how have you been tonight?" When ever Lucian was around his darling high priestest, the anceint language and the dialect seemed to flow out with every breath Lucian took.

Lucain encircled Kanika basking in all her beauty and glory, and remeberd of the last time he held her naked with his warm body and felt the cold sting of her flesh on his. "I hope you have been keeping well, you look more stunning then ever" and with this He stood there and waited for the Eygytian beauty to speak and fill his world.

[Her Royal Highness]

“Enough!” Elena yelled, the volume of her own voice startling her as it bounced back to her from the walls that reached above them both.

Although her body, still a subject to its instinct, remained cold with trepidation, in her mind, Elena was no longer afraid of the woman before her. Theoris had shown weakness. She had underestimated the small brunette. And that was enough to shake the appearance of impenetrability that had hitherto been so intimidating. And now, Elena hated Theoris. Some hatred grows silently, gaining strength over time. At other times, it springs into full force almost instantaneously. And it is the latter of the two that one comes to relish. In that moment, Elena hated Theoris -- it was a hatred that unbeknownst to her, she would harbor for years to come.

“And what do you feed on? You've let on enough to indicate that your kind is no better than those you try to move me against! I’ve had enough. I will not listen to you any longer. You speak of my ignorance, my weakness, my inferiority, plague me with questions I know you know the answers to yourself -- all in some sick game trying to get me to come to I know not what conclusion of your own devising. The moment I question your motives, however, you retreat and embark on a new verbal onslaught you think might prove more successful. Well I make my decisions based on what I myself know, and nothing else. Therefore I will not be led by you. You may be stronger in body and have a greater knowledge in these unearthly matters, but I see now your reasoning is beneath mine if you believe that your sudden turn to insincere flattery will manipulate me into agreeing to something that you refuse to reveal the full consequences of. Your vendetta has nothing to do with me. I don’t see why you should seek to involve one who you have clearly labeled as worthless in the whole scheme of the universe. You, your werewolves, and whatever your kind is may slaughter each other as you see fit. Only leave me and mine to ourselves. We have done nothing to earn the destruction you’ve unleashed upon us. You sicken me.”

She stood there in the shadows, her small self trembling now with her new born hatred rather than fear. The feeling was incredibly empowering, despite the knowledge that in all likelyhood she would soon cease to exist.

[theliontamer♥]

She watched him crawl from the shadows, immersed herself with the sleek, shining skin that melted off traces of the darkness that consumed their little world. His dark eyes watching her, edged her away while pulling her closer, suggested great and terrible things to her. And she returned each look, each smoldering gaze that held much more than the present within. Her black eyes narrowed into slits, a gesture of anger that merely beckoned.
“Lucian,” she purred, looking up at him, her eyelashes curved and lined with dark, ancient rouge. The forgotten language stirred between them, a stray memory of no significance that bore heavily now upon her.
“Of course I have been well,” she answered, as though his concern were petty and farfetched, as she revolved slowly about him, eyes following his every step. “I trust you, as well, have stayed in good humors.”
The casual detachment of their conversation enraged her spirit, and she scowled, her temper flaring as she slashed the charade and grasped his shoulders with her pale, slender hands. His skin simmered beneath hers, ice and fire battling to reveal the final victor. Her hand burned but she removed them not, ceasing his circling and glaring into his passion awed eyes. War, she wanted to shriek to him, there is war about and you ask if I am well! A throaty giggle escaped her lips and she watched him coolly. Why now did the memories of caves and ancient spells fill her thoughts? Why now did the long forgotten spells echo in whispers about her head?
“Do you seek business with me, Lucian? You must remember that I no longer hold consort with my enemy. However,” she commented, her diplomatic voice softening, “should you not seek talk of war, I will consider entertaining your presence.”
Her blood red lips curved upwards, a harsh smile with traces of gentle beginnings playing on her lips, and she let her head rest upon his chest, her arms slipping down and curving around his sides. Again her skin burned, and she knew he would feel her icy embrace just as she felt the burning fires.
And while the past clawed at her turned back, bubbled over her mind and threatened to overtake her senses and fill her with memories of her mortality, she refused them observance and clung to the present; clung to the only solidity the present now offered--the great and terrible wolf that stood before her.

[The Wolfman]

The icy feeling of Kanika's fingers sent chills down Lucian's warm body, a feeling he had not felt in ages, not since that fateful night when she was taken from him. A link had been formed by the two that not even the greatest mind could comprehend. the light from the stars were shinning in her black eyes and the eons of time taken by the stars light was all of a sudden swallowed up by the beauty of her eyes. He laid his strong muscular hands on her shoulders and played with the lacy straps on her dress as if he was going to cut them with his razor like nails. "My dear, you seem so reluctant in my presence." he spoke in a calm manner. As he said this this ears caught something in the wind and a scent was smelt, that of gun powered and silver. "What have you brought upon my house!?" Lucian spoke in a angry tone. Quickly he grabbed Kanika and drug her into the safety of his manor. "My dear,what is this you are trying to do to me?" as he spoke these words, he gently caressed her ice cold arm, "is there anything troubling you my dear?" and as he spoke it seemed as though a wave of ancient music had flown into the chamber in which the two currently held presence. A statue of the god Anubis sitting proudly in the corner of the room. Lucian turned letting go of Kanika's arm and started reciting an ancient rite to the god o the underworld.

[theliontamer♥]

“No!” Theories cried, anger lacing her perfect features. Her amicable expression contorted in rage, both due to Elena’s own delusions and her unwillingness to give Theoris control. The strength this little mortal was showing only increased Theoris’ raging curiosity.

Elena.
A smooth stream of French escaped her lips, fluent cursing she had learned as a child, her frustrations bottling and slipping away with these words. After a moment she continued fluidly in English, “Elena, I must keep my head as we go about this. I don’t want any accidents, my dear.”

The icy threat hung heavily in her voice, concealed by an alluring promise. She knew that Elena believed she was on her deathbed, waiting for cruel darkness to swallow her. Theoris laughed suddenly. “You’re going to die Elena. How does that feel, to hear me finally say it? You’re going to die, right in this very spot.”

She stepped closer, the lace bodice rustling with each movement. The darkness closed about them as a flame was extinguished several homes down. The anxious creature took a deep breath, allowing the musky smell of the alleyway to flood her senses. The fleeting silence succumbed to Elena’s steady heartbeat, which pulsed in mortal weakness. Theoris scowled. The weakness of mortality could scare away the silence that she herself had so long tried to banish! The scowl danced about her lips, curling downward in further displeasure as she toyed with the idea of banishing the heartbeat right then, silencing it too, forever.

The irony struck her as she watched Elena’s pale, trembling form. She revealed in the notion that Elena shook not with fear and cowardness, but raging power. She could sense it pulsing through her veins, her blood bubbling with life and alert voracity. The weak mortal heart Theoris could so easily defeat was triumphant over the pressing silence that haunted immortality. Angry again, Theoris clasped her arm about Elena’s.

“I will forever end your ability to quell the silence,” she said morosely, more to herself than to Elena, who she knew would not understand. “Oh Elena, you will die, you will die, but in dying you will become more powerful than you might ever dream. Elena, Elena,” Theoris tutted gently as she drew closer still. “Savor your life, just a moment longer. Savor the beating of your heart, pulsing its’ own blood through living veins, and savor for one last time your human necessity to draw oxygen. This is the very last time, and I wish you to be satiated with these trivial necessities, so that you do not long forevermore,” she continued, as though she were scolding a young child. “Get your fill in these last moments so that you are not bitter for so long. And do not hate me, my dear Elena, for I have warned you beforehand.”

And even as she spoke she drew blood from the woman’s neck, twisting her head easily back to reach the most effective arteries.
“Your world may grow dim, healer, and you may not remember a word I am now speaking. Say goodbye to your sweet, precious blood, and to your weak mortality. But Elena, most of all, say farewell to your irrational fears.”
And Theoris tore the flesh from her own wrist and shoved her arm to Elena’s mouth.

[theliontamer♥]

She was silent as he caressed her skin, burning her icy flesh. She did not shrink away from this touch, as painful as it had become, for it was the only solidity in this life of non existing existence. She stretched her neck, letting the evening light glimmer off her pale skin, knowing that Lucian would be gazing upon her.
"Reluctant? Of course, Lucian, I should be reluctant in your presence! War is upon us and while you do not raise claw to me you certainly gather with your kind to plot the death of mine. Of course I should be reluctant. Just as you know I consort with vampires of my like, I am well aware you have recently held council with a number of beasts. Surely you have been discussing loyalties and war, have you not? Oh, Lucian, Lucian, neither of us have reason to trust the other. Yet we do," she reflected quietly, gazing where his eyes had wandered.
His sudden tenseness caught her off guard and she quickly took inventory of their surroundings. As he grabbed her in his arms and lept away from their meeting spot, she could not help but protest. The stench of the werewolf was growing heavy, and as they approached his manor she felt rather than smelt the presence of not one but three foreign creatures.
"You take me within your manor, filled with your kind, filled with mangy dogs!" she exclaimed. "My odds seemed better when mortals were our challenge and you and I could reunite as one for survival. Now it shall be your own seeking me, and I do not believe I can trust in your loyalties."
But as she spoke he had turned away, turned to the glimmering statue reigning over the furthest corner, and her arguments were lost as his prayer began.
The ancient immortal stood before her, bathed in an ancient spell, shadowed by their immortal God, and the scene gripped her tightly and echoed to her moments from far in the past. Her mortality clung to the paws of the creature depicted before them, thrashing and flailing before fading out for eternity, replaced with a stronger, crueler being. Her concerns quelled before he had truly responded. The sacred location spoke volumes to assure her safety as well as his loyalties.
Now that he had parted she found herself longing for the cruel warmth of his touch. As words flowed smoothly, she crept behind him and placed her hands upon his back, resting them gently on his strong shoulders before letting them trail slowly along his backbone, gently, soothing.
Their embrace reminded her so very much of their humanity. In fact, it was that long ago she had last heard this very chant falling upon his lips as they gazed at their idols. In a moment of reverent memory, she fell gracefully to her knees and joined his chant, softly, her voice gentle and melodious.

She broke off abruptly and laughed, a harsh contrast to the gentle murmurs of a moment before. "It should be ironic who I choose to worship, don't you agree? But it has been so very long. Tell me, why do you keep such painful memories buried in your manor?"
Her arms wrapped about his waist, curling beneath his clothes so their temperatures mingled; his icy cool to her burning flame, and she pressed herself close to him. She had many thoughts she wished to address, but not a one seemed important enough to interrupt their momentary peace. Though she knew it were not so, the room in which they nestled seemed safe, removed, and secure. She felt that they were utterly alone and at peace with one another. The war melted away to petty talk and rivalries and she did not know that creatures were at this very moment committing heinous crimes against one another.
War? There was no such thing as immortal war. Lucian and Kanika merely existed, an ancient priest and his sinful priestess seeking to find their own beliefs.
Of course, they had always been a part from the society. They sought themselves rather than the collective. It had been their ultimate punishment the first time their disobedience had been discovered, and while their desires were fulfilled they were as one cursed. Yet still they were, just as they had been.

[Her Royal Highness]

Theoris’ enraged cry aught to have startled Elena back into fear, but it did not. Rather it heightened her own sense of triumph, a sensation which struck her as odd considering she expected death at any moment. She actually began to find Theoris’ growing anger amusing -- the more she lost control, the braver Elena’s stance became. She watched unflinchingly as the impenetrable facade of the woman before her crumbled, first with her expression, then by the steady stream of french oaths that flew from her mouth. She knew she would die, yet where was the horror that the idea used to instill in her? Not half an hour before she had been fleeing the sight of it, and yet here she stood almost eager.

“Elena, I must keep my head as we go about this. I don’t want any accidents, my dear.”

It was at these words that she once again began to feel uneasy. She expected death, but just what did Theoris mean by accidents? What mistakes were there to be made when it came to killing someone?

“You’re going to die Elena. How does that feel, to hear me finally say it? You’re going to die, right in this very spot.”

The assertion confused her. She had heard the words clearly enough, but she was unable to believe in them. Surely you knew when your own death was coming. Why then did she not feel hers approach? She watched warily as Theoris moved closer, the red head’s face once again a picture of anger. But the emotion was now mixed with something else she could not make out.

Then all at once, Theoris’ arm wound tightly around her, clamping Elena’s forearms to her sides, instantly making any resistance completely futile. Her hands immediately began to lose feeling, tingling creeping up her forearms from the tips of her fingers as the iron grip cut off her blood flow. Piercing cold cut straight through her dress and shawl directly to her own skin, adding to the numbness already taking over her body.

“I will forever end your ability to quell the silence.”

Theoris’ words were not a threat but a promise -- an oath rather -- one that implied a punishment that Elena could not begin to guess the meaning of.

“Oh Elena,” Theoris continued, “you will die, you will die, but in dying you will become more powerful than you might ever dream. Elena, Elena,”

The woman crooned over her almost lovingly, her icy breath lightly wafting over her. The gentleness in her voice was more horrifying to Elena than any howls or screeching could be. Yet despite the horror, she felt an undeniable and equally powerful curiosity at Theoris’ words. Why was it always like this? Ever since she was a child, her fears had always been accompanied by the most terrifying need to view, experience, and understand. Even when her terror was at its greatest, most paralyzing height, her desire to know was always just as overwhelming. She had always felt the two contending sensations would one day lead her to her ultimate end, and now, trapped as she was, they kept her from making any plea for mercy.

“Savor your life, just a moment longer. Savor the beating of your heart, pulsing its’ own blood through living veins, and savor for one last time your human necessity to draw oxygen. This is the very last time, and I wish you to be satiated with these trivial necessities, so that you do not long forevermore.”

It was as if Theoris was chiding her, teaching a valuable lesson she expected her to commit to memory.

“Get your fill in these last moments so that you are not bitter for so long. And do not hate me, my dear Elena, for I have warned you beforehand.”

She saw only the smallest flash of bright white as Theoris pulled her head back with her free hand and plunged her mouth below Elena’s jawline. She had expected pain, but not this means of delivery. Yet even as the pain seared through her neck, Elena heeded Theoris words. She kept her mind clear, if not calm, and each tortured gasp for air that tore through her throat she burned into her memory: the way the oxygen felt as it rushed into her lungs, satisfying their necessity, and then the immediate return of that need as she exhaled. She paid meticulous attention to the way her heart hammered furiously in panic as her body went into shock and of her heightened awareness of the pulse in her neck growing weaker as the blood poured out of her.

Elena quickly felt her strength wane. Her eyelids slid shut, the tendons in her neck, at first taunt with agony now loosened, and her spine longer held its own, letting her frame fall limp in Theoris’ arms as she spoke once more.

“Your world may grow dim, healer, and you may not remember a word I am now speaking. Say goodbye to your sweet, precious blood, and to your weak mortality. But Elena, most of all, say farewell to your irrational fears.”

The voice was now soft yet strong, but most of all, it was alive with excitement. Had she possessed the strength, Elena would have shuddered, but whether in fear or anticipation she knew not.

Then all at once, the air she had been so attentively struggling for was completely cut off by the cold wet wrist Theoris shoved against her lips. The salty, coppery taste of blood flowed over her tongue and filled her mouth. The thickness of it choked her; her body’s reflex was to gag, cough, spit -- anything to get her free of the substance. But Theoris kept her wrist pressed tightly to Elena’s mouth, forming a seal that both kept air from entering or blood from escaping. There was no possible struggle on Elena’s part. There was practically no strength left in her body and she was running out of air, barely grasping at the remains of consciousness when suddenly the liquid was neither repulsive nor hateful. Rather, it was everything -- life itself -- and she no longer had thought for anything beyond the desire for more that now overtook her. With what minimal physical capacity she could muster, she clamped down on the stone cold flesh with her teeth and sucked at the open gashes like one desperately trying to remove the venom from a snake bite. Only she wanted the poison, every single drop of it. She felt its iciness burn through her as it coursed through and filled her emptied veins. And still Elena drank. She drank of Theoris’ stolen vitality like one shipwrecked who’s thirst-induced insanity finally drives him to drink of the ocean that surrounds and torments him. She wanted to drown it, in Theoris’ blood, in her own maddening lust for it, and she would not stop until she had.

[lions_go_rawr]

He heard her calling out to him, the sound of her voice echoing through the very hallways that he had so cowardly ran through to escape from the clutches of her…essence, her charm. Everything about her surged into his mind and caused Caius to forget the very moment he was in. Just the simple telling of their births into their lycanthropic lives caused his mind to forget the problems of the present time. He spoke and remembered a time when his only care was his education. He did not have the knowledge of the struggle that went on within the supernatural realm of his own world. Beings such as vampires and werewolves were just rumors, seeing as no facts ever turned up to prove such an existence. But now, he was the very proof. Yet while he believed so long ago that there were still slim numbers of those likened to him, there was the life of Rachel. The stunning tale of her transformation only caused him to further head out of the present.

When she spoke, Caius forgot all about the war that raged in the streets under the very noses of the mortals who were too clueless to see just what was happening. When she spoke, nothing else mattered. It was clear that this was more than just an infatuation within Caius’ mind about Rachel. But once past all the feelings that could be kept hidden inside of him, the feeling of a new bond within a new member to their lives shone through him more than anything. Though Rachel was new to them, her pureblood spirit of the wolves of the past surged through her very veins, making her stronger than any new werewolf, turned on account of needing sheer numbers to fight, could have ever imagined. Caius knew that he would definitely be able to learn from her, just as, he assumed, she would look forward to learning from both he and Lucian.

Away from that parlour room, Caius had found calm and retreat in the hallways that twisted through the estate Lucian provided for them. Tattered paintings hung on the walls, obviously left over from the owners of the home. Caius wondered if Lucian had owned this piece of property all of his life, seeing as he was much older than Caius. Pieces of art, possibly years and years old hung on the walls, along with what seemed to be busts of random men, probably the greatest minds of their own time. Did they ever have to deal with the same issues that Caius was faced with at this moment? Surely they had all learned to deal with women, especially if they truly were the greatest men and minds of the times.

Caius had made up his mind, with no help that is to the countless statues around him. It would have been useless, to keep running from facing her again. It was rude to do such a thing to a fellow wolf, especially one that had been called to their side via the callings of Lucian. Lucian, Caius seemed to be under the impression, had somehow disappeared. It was not his place to question where his brethren had gone off to. Lucian was more important in this war, being one of the Ancients. He could do whatever he possibly wanted without question. But other questions did enter Caius’ mind. He shook his head in his own disappointment. What was he thinking, leaving her? How could he consider himself to be a gentleman when he just completely ran from her?

It would be a lie to say that he did not stop multiple times as he ventured back towards the room he had abandoned in his struggle to escape quite quickly. He heard footsteps within the hall just ahead of him. Caius assumed that she had went searching for him, or had just decided he was not coming back and excused herself. Either way, it was certain that the two would surely run into one another again. The meeting though, would be sooner than thought, as Caius came face to face with Rachel as he rounded the corner to the main room in which he had exited.

“Rachel,” he started, “I need to express my extreme apologies. A gentleman should not have to excuse himself from a guest new to the home under any circumstance. I realize that on my part, I have been a terrible host in place of Lucian, as well as a less then exemplary brother to the newest member of our pack. I use the term loosely though, as there are only three of us at the moment. But that is beside the point. I hope that you can accept my apology for my behavior, and hope that you will inform me if there is anything I can do to make up for my actions.” His eyes made sure to lock onto her own, hoping to show the extreme honesty within him as she listened to his apology.

[theliontamer♥]

Theoris gasped, a sharp intake of air as Elena latched onto her wrist. Steadily, as she drank, Elena felt a new strength entering her body. It crept through her veins and began to fill each muscle just as her old strength had left her before. As this new strength increased within her, Elena slowly brought her hand up and wrapped it around Theoris’ forearm. Gripping it tightly, she drank deeper and deeper, sinking her teeth further into the cold flesh, now tearing it further with fangs of her own. Surprise etched across her face at Elena’s willing and forceful acceptance of her role. She had taken on her hunger and quickly tried to satiate herself; a trait that both startled and pleased Theoris. A pale flush crossed her cheeks, diminished quickly as Elena took from her any excess vitality. Still, she was pleased with herself.
Elena would be a powerful immortal.

A dull ache echoed from her wrist after several minutes had passed, yet Elena still drank greedily. The new power surging and building within her demanded submission. Eyes still shut and following some new instinctual guide, Elena raised her other hand to Theoris’ neck just below the jaw line and pressed her fingers tightly against the tendons there. She wanted complete control over the life force she was consuming. When the form failed to fall to its knees before her as her instincts told her it should, Elena finally opened her new eyes to look upon the one she wished to subdue -- her maker, her prey. Theoris swayed as the blood exchange tipped from her favor, and hastily ripped her wrist from Elena’s pull, pushing her arm away with any remaining strength. The sharp teeth she now possessed slipped away from the now gaping wound, and the redheaded vampire wrapped the jagged tear in a small slip of torn fabric. Only minutes needed to pass before the bleeding cut would heal itself, leaving no mark of maiming. Still woozy from blood loss, Theoris steadied her thoughts and locked eyes with the new vampire.

“Greed will not create your strength, only your downfall!” Theoris snapped, the anger in her voice swaying as the necessity for replenishment began to grow.
The little villa she and her small coven took residence in was not far, and the pair needed to be concealed before dawn began to rise. A smirk crossed her lips defiantly; it would be several months before the little healer could fathom the sunlight once more. The sun, however, was a daunting prospect for Theoris just the same, and in her weakened state, escaping it was a small challenge. Weakness shamed her, and she struggled to her feet, a firm grip on Elena’s arm.

“Once we’re safely in the confines of home,” and the word rolled, unfamiliar, over Theoris’ lips, “you will learn what you need to know. You will be able to feed, but without the terrible greed you have just shown.” As she spoke, Theoris grimaced with pleasure. Elena was already strong. Elena was naturally adept at seeking her prey and overpowering it. The urge to laugh overcame her, though her mind dimmed and she knew it would be an unwise exertion of her energies. Instead, she contented herself with settling her new immortal into her role. “When you awaken fully, you may be so lucky to meet the others. They’re delightful, though you are a treat. So powerful,” Theoris muttered softly, a gentle flutter of a voice that seemed so out of place to her demeanor.

Surely she could manage the few steps home. But it seemed ever less possible, with a defiant Elena and her own weakened state, an each small obstacle became an unbearable struggle. No one had taken that much blood from her before.

“Cilia?” a concerned voice rose above the silence as she struggled to determine the next move, and the air rustled restlessly. A tall vampire swept into her view, worry etched into his marble features, warm concern filling his eyes.
“She took a lot of blood,” Theoris explained, leaning into Abel’s bracing hold. He nodded briefly, pulling Theoris close to him, briefly nuzzling her cheek before gazing down at Elena. For once, Theoris did not pull herself so violently away from him. She was in desperate need for blood, she reasoned, and thus not fully herself. Her weakness thus was excusable.

Still, he grasped her within his arms and steered her forward. Theoris kept a steel grip on Elena’s arm.
He looked mildly at Elena and composed his surprise quickly. “You must have craved immortality fiercely to leave Theoris like this,” he told her coldly. “Come, Elena, you may rest for awhile. You’re strength is still developing; we shouldn’t want to shock you more so early after your transformation.”

[The Wolfman]

Lucian could feel the icy touch of his sinnful preistest but with the saticfation of knowing that she was there with him, the thought of how she used to be when she was a mortal was fullfiling but then thought of the way she was now brought a tear to his eye as she was talking to him while he was in prayer. "I keep these things my dear because they remind me of a more peacefull time, and a time of when the venom did not run on your beautiful lip's". Sitting up Lucian turned and looked deep into the eyes of his beloved priestest of the cult of the gaurdians of Anubus, you my love are so beauiful and i have kept this monument with me for protection, that is one reason why we have stayed alive all these centurtys my dear. For if we protect our scared cult then the cult shall protect us, for i am one with anubus in my dreaded form of your kind.

"take this and it shall give you greater protection, for those who know of our cult you shall be protected" as Lucian said this he handed Kanika a gold necklace with a solid gold carving of a wolfs head or for the old ways a jackle head. "I shall find you again my love before this war starts and after this war is over and look forward to the life I nor you could have with each other, and from thus time forth you are welcomed into the scaturay of this room and the back chamber as you so desire."

As Lucian was done speaking he turned and sprinted from the room towards the rear of the house where the shoots were fired at him and his bloved lover for all those centurys, for who ever threatened them especily her were in for a world of trouble and pain.

[Her Royal Highness]

A fierce snarl tore through her throat the moment Theoris broke free from her grip. Rather than thoughts, Elena’s mind had been running on raw emotion and the endless amount of sensory information that she was absorbing from every inch of space around her. But Theoris’ words hit her like a slap to the face of a hysterical child - successfully forcing her to instantly sort through and identify these sensations.

First, anger. Anger at what she craved being taken away. Anger at her prey for resisting her. Anger at her for succeeding. Anger at her own strength’s being in sufficient to stop her.

Second, shock. At her ability to comprehend language and yet the foreign quality it retained for her, as if against her nature. At how incredibly primal her instincts were and at how flawlessly they dictated her actions. At the very world around her and her overwhelmingly detailed comprehension of it.

Third, confusion. At how new absolutely everything was to her -- not only her surroundings but her very own self and capabilities as well. At the way her senses intermingled, allowing her in a sense to see and feel sounds, to feel and hear light. At how she knew this all to be new but had no recollection of any previous perceptual experience that could serve as a standard for comparison.

The combined strength of the later two were able to overcome the former two and thus allowed Elena to snap free of her blood lust. The thirst did not abandon her entirely, but she was able to follow Theoris’ words in a manner far less animalistic than before.

“Once we’re safely in the confines of home, you will learn what you need to know. You will be able to feed, but without the terrible greed you have just shown. When you awaken fully, you may be so lucky to meet the others. They’re delightful. Though you are a treat. So powerful.”

Though the words admonished, the mouth that spoke them curled slightly with a fond satisfaction that both pleased and enraged Elena. Pleasure at eliciting such approval, rage at the idea of any creature forming any kind of judgment on her. Such was the power she felt running through her that the idea of anything greater than she was nothing short of impossible to Elena.

Despite this flawless faith in the vitality of her own existence, the approaching presence and sudden appearance of the male instantly caused her mind to snap to the defensive. And with good reason. The face on the form that appeared before her made it clear he was not to be reckoned with. What caught Elena’s attention most however was not her instant awareness that he could overpower her, but rather that this strength he possessed appeared conditional -- as if under other circumstances, she might be able to attain the mastery. This strange qualification became clear to her the moment he drew to Theoris’ side. The recognition was instantaneous -- he was hers, and uniquely so in that he chose to remain so completely and willingly. It was this fierce loyalty to Theoris, this sense of belonging to her, and his actual physical proximity to his mistress that made him as formidable as he now appeared before Elena. And for all this, the newborn immediately resented him. His words of contempt grated against her ears and even her skin in a way that made her want to lunge for his throat and rip it from his body. Yet she knew better than to protest and so proceeded to silently follow the pair as they made their way through the shadows.

[lions_go_rawr]

It was evident that his lust for flesh was undeniably unbearable. The feel had never been this strong before. It was possible that this unnerving feeling was due to the moon almost passing into its fullest phase had caused this craving to well up within him in the most extreme manner.
Night had truly become his very best friend, seeing as his friends and closest related family members in his home of France had considered him dead in every definition of the word. No doubt he still thought of them in the back of his mind, but they had been the ones to shun him. At his most violent moments, he blamed them for his condition. But in his weakest, most helpless human state, his cheeks ran stained with tears. The tears though, stayed hidden deep in his thoughts. It was a sign of weakness. No one could possibly know about it.
In his ear rung the heavy pitfalls of the soles of human feet echoing through the back alleyways of the city he had come to reside. He did not care to learn the name of the city, only by the fact he would get his fill and move on. The sounds of running filled his sensitive canine ears once more. Each step caused his heart of beat just a second faster. The thrill of the kill was slowly setting into his mind and body. Did this mortal deserve what was going to come to him when he was caught? Was he some criminal or evil man that would deserve his punishment, his death rejoiced in rather than mourned? These thoughts, though all incredibly valid, never once crossed Alain’s mind, only the kill that was stealthily approaching the scared human.

“Are you trying to make a fool of me?” Moira asked, her eyes glaring upon the forms of her species confidants. “Did you think that I would not notice another of our kind wreaking havoc about town? We already have our set problems to deal with, and you cannot simply get rid of the problem!? I thought you two, of any beings I have ever dealt with, would be capable of a task as simple as this one. But here you stand before me saying that you cannot for the life of you, find this one particular weakling of our kind? I expected more of you. Get out of my sight.”
The two figures slinked away without saying a single word. There were no words that could justify their actions or give any sort of excuse. It was best that they did not speak. Beyond the shadow of war, the prospect of being the best was all that lay within Moira’s heart. If killing one of their breed, even in this day and age, was what needed to happen, then by her command it would happen. The problem would pass quietly though, not as to alert the other forces of werewolves that may be in the area. If she were to cause problems, her own strife for power would end swiftly, as would her life.
She obviously had heard the whispers of new wolves being created and strewn about the city. This was both good and bad. Good that the numbers were growing in ways that the vampire scum could not imagine, and bad, in the fact that they were new and bloodthirsty, showing a weakness within her ranks. She winced, not her ranks as of yet. It was a flaw in the ranks of the immortal breed of wolves that gathered in secret across the country, some of them seeming to have found a home there. But why were they there? Why was it that she, within the depths of her soul, was called to this very place, besides the fact that there were other wolves present. What did those others know that she did not? In time, she knew the answers would be revealed. But for the present, there was nothing to do but wait.

The stench of the bloodied carcass had yet to set in, though time had brought the infernal flies and vermin to scavenge at what used to be the throat of the once living human being. Luckily, the night was wearing down and the beings that lived in the city had long since fallen into slumber, leaving the body virtually untouched in its bloody resting spot. Close by, a gentle set of footsteps met the strong brick alleyways. With the footsteps came a gentle growling which echoed ever so slightly through the air.
“Stop your complaining,” a voice, obviously belonging to the footsteps began to say. “You know full well we have been assigned to do this. She would be unhappy if word were to reach her ears about our not finishing our duties. We are already less favored in her eyes.”
“That is not what I was growling about,” a second female voice replied in turn. “If you were the one forced into your true form, you too would have caught the scent of death.”
This revelation caught the first woman by surprise. As her companion’s elder, she had decidedly stayed in her human form. Now the credit of discovering the corpse would be accredited not to her. This caused a slight sputter of annoyance to run through her body, but none so largely starling that the moment passed by without any problem. The body was easy enough to find, now that its presence had been discovered.
“What do you make of it Ilse?” The woman who had just seconds before been a large brown wolf asked to her partner. The woman stood up tall, her naked form bathed in the moonlight, the strands of her brown hair slightly visible through the shadows produced by the buildings around her. Her muscles were toned and tenses, obviously still full of adrenaline from the eternal changing process.
“Would you either find some clothing or turn back into your other form? I see enough of you nude, young Thea.”
“And you say I’m the one who complains too much,” Thea muttered in response before her features began to distort and stretch until her transformation back to wolf was complete. Where she once had stood now stood the brown wolf she had been.
“Good girl,” Ilse chided, patting the brown wolf on the head, gaining a growl of warning and a set of snapping jaws in her general direction. She avoided injury easily though, issuing a small laugh while getting a closer look at the body on the ground. “The killing was indeed done by one of our very own. The neck of, what I presumed what was once a human male, is almost severed through. In my opinion, this killing was most likely done by a young one, still in the uncontrollable phase in his short time as wolf. I have a feeling that our stumbling upon this scene was not by mere chance, but a gift of renewal. Think of it: this is the one that our leader made clear would not escape from her grasp. She wants her reign on him, that we know. As we also know the scent of the attacker. We can find him, and when we do, we will be favored again. She would have to forgive us.” With that final word, the woman ceased to be woman, and two wolves ran off in the direction of a beastly scent.

He let out a triumphant howl deep into the night, evident of his success of the kill. Yet what he did not know was he was being tracked, quickly, stealthily, and very much in a deadly manner. He only thought he was imagining the far off sound of running paws in the night. The rush of steps echoing on the stones caused panic to set in within his mind. He willed his body to get into motion, to run as fast as possibly away from the coming threat that he was sure was meant for him. Though the streets were foreign and new to him, they held the chance of him living. The search was frantic, for the middle of the night brought upon no sanctuary from the oncoming threat. It seemed as nothing at all could be his savior this night.