Cerulean Cape dig a hole and bury all the memories we've made
133 Posts
Ooc — xynien
Offline
#1
Private 
@Samothes set a couple days after this thread
btw for reference: serious wounds - her left shoulder + left half of her chest is hella bit up, with more deep wounds on her chest, and several deep wounds on her neck and scruff
minor wounds - more shallow bite marks on her scruff and the other side of her chest and a shallow scratch on her right cheek
It had taken time and careful effort, but the shadow had finally arrived. Over and over in her head she replayed the flurry of snapping teeth, the white-hot feeling of flesh being torn that had led her here. She was here to die.
Samaantine belonged to no pack, and none would come to her aid soon enough for it to matter. The Messeda girl's defeat was almost palpable; she had not meant for things to end this way. The ruined, shredded flesh of her shoulder was a constant stinging reminder of her defeat, but she was more concerned with the wounds she felt less keenly. The she-wolf had bitten deeply into Tine's neck in several places, had torn into her chest and scruff during the heat of battle. She had lost much blood since then, but the hurt of the deeper wounds had faded to a pulsing ache that worried her.
The shadow was tired now from the distance she had traveled from the scene of the fight, crawling towards the shoreline to dip her nose in the water. She wondered how long it would take her to wither fully-- if someone would find her, perhaps too late to help. Tine dipped her muzzle lightly into the receding wave when she got close enough, following it instinctively as it pulled away from her touch. When the water came back in, it soaked her, bringing the sting of salt to her wounds. She winced, a gasp escaping her, but did not move even as the tide began to tug at her small form. Let the ocean take her, then, and she would be embraced in the shadows of its depths.
to stab my youth with desperate knives
154 Posts
Ooc — e
Away
#2
staying vagueish re: this thread :p

 though their numbers are slight, they've managed to stake their claim in the forest. samothes feels oddly proud of the little group and the role he played in their formation. even if he is not as close to constantine as he'd planned -- yet -- it is a solid step in the right direction. and hey, he got some, possibly at his sister's expense. nice.

 speaking of said sister, samothes has done his best to put her out of his thoughts. he is certainly not low-key looking for a trance of her as he steps out toward the coast. he is definitely not hyper-aware of her scent, after catching it on engel's fur. not even a bit, and yet when he catches her scent trail nearby he cannot help but pursue it. 

 the mangled body, dipped in tide, is not what he expects to find. alarm flares through him -- had there been a time when they'd been close enough that the site of her injured would inspire fear or concern? now, in the present moment, his momentary alarm fades into something colder. still, she is his flesh and blood and it would not do to let her die with so little dignity.

"samaantine," he barks, a slight smirk curving his mouth. "so, how does this suit your purpose, dear sister?"
133 Posts
Ooc — xynien
Offline
#3
The shadow scented her brother's approach even before he was close enough to speak to her. Far from lifting her spirits, the arrival brought a heightened feeling of defeat. Of course it would be him to find her like this. Tine lifted her head slightly, fixing her gaze on him with a flick of her tail, but was otherwise still. She did not flinch at his biting words, though briefly the urge struck her. Her eyes flashed, and she wondered if she had really expected anything else.
No, she had hoped-- foolishly. The Messeda girl still blamed her brother for their estrangement, but she was not unaware of her own role in it. Anger bubbled within her, slow but dangerous.
After a few beats, she let her head drop again with a sigh. The shadow did not possess the energy to be angry or to verbally spar with her brother now.
Come to watch the show, then? She murmured tiredly. You're just in time.
to stab my youth with desperate knives
154 Posts
Ooc — e
Away
#4


gods, even dying she finds a way to be irritating. he scoffs at her then, tapping a paw against the sand impatiently. "the brilliant samaantine messeda, giving up just like that?" it's framed as a teasing remark, but his voice is flat, a dangerous edge in his eyes. 

he'd imagined this scenario before, the roles reversed: her coming after him, finding him in some ditch having bitten off more than he could chew. would she help him, he'd wondered, or would she stay to watch his agony?

or would she simply walk away?

it would be easy, he thinks. it would be what she would do, probably, and it's easy. she can bleed out in the sand, this ghost of his past that should never have been here at all. the silver-hued boy lifts his paw as if to take a step back.

instead, samothes sighs. "perhaps some other time," he says wearily, "tell me: can you walk, or shall i drag you by the tail away from your sorry fate?"
133 Posts
Ooc — xynien
Offline
#5
Samaantine took her brother's words quietly; no retort came to her, but something bitter rose in her throat. She wished she could snap-- that she could take him by the scruff and force him to have a different response. Anything else, because right now she was too tired for this. For him. But she needed him, didn't she? Or at least, she had to treat it that way if there was any hope.
The shadow couldn't have known Samothes' thoughts, but the same situation he envisioned had crossed her mind as well. And of course, he couldn't know how wrong he was in his assumption. He was lucky, she thought, that their roles were not reversed; given the opportunity, Samaantine would not hesitate to take what was hers in any situation. Their shared blood, their shared womb made him hers from conception, in her eyes. She would not have let him die, no-- but perhaps he would have wished it so.
Tine drew in a breath when her brother moved as if he might leave, tensing a little in preparation for the final blow. Of course he would leave her to die-- would not even keep her company at her end. She should have expected-- the shadow blinked once, then twice when he spoke. She looked away after a moment, determined not to let her surprise show any more than it had already. A few beats passed before she found her voice, buried under the thick, unidentifiable emotion that had risen within her at Samothes' question.
I can walk. It was barely more than a whisper, but with that the shadowy girl lifted herself agonizingly from the ground. Exhaustion weighed her steps, and the dull ache of her wounds clouded her mind, but she held herself as steadily as she could. For perhaps the first time, there was no pride in her posture-- surely it would be back. But right now, she was just too tired.
to stab my youth with desperate knives
154 Posts
Ooc — e
Away
#6
wwwwwoooowww sorry for the holdup!!! wanna go ahead and start the constantine/sam/sam one?

oh, but, watching her beaten frame struggle to step fills him with a vicious triumph, a cruelty he did not know he harbored (or at least, one he had not admitted to himself). "good," samothes says, keeping his voice bored and flat, "come with me back to ravensblood. we will meet with constantine, and should he allow, i will see to it that you make a full recovery." and if constantine denied her, well, he'd done the best he could. "after that," the messeda brother continues, taking on a slightly more calculating tone -- how much will samaantine bend in this state? -- "you will repay ravensblood's generosity by becoming a contributing member for as long as constantine and i deem necessary." tit for tat, dear sister. ravensblood is no hospital bed and he knows the value in her skills -- only a fool would let her use their resources and then slip out the back door to who knows where. 

without waiting for her to agree to the terms he begins to make his way back toward ravensblood, keeping slow so as to allow her to follow.
133 Posts
Ooc — xynien
Offline
#7
the shittiest fade
She was quiet still as she followed him to Ravensblood Forest, assuming he would take her silence for agreement. For now, Sammaantine didn't worry about her brother's words; at some point, she would slip away, or he would get sick of her. It was inevitable. Today, she wouldn't die— that was what mattered. The Messeda girl clung to this in her own mind, driving out all other thoughts. Broken as her pride was, she would build it again. Perhaps Samothes would come to regret not allowing her to die. She hoped so.