Wolf RPG

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Whereas the Sister had been playing coy not too long ago, it seemed her teasing games had finally ended, and she once again decided to smile down upon Nimue. The previous night, she'd been blessed to discover a fully intact rabbit, it's tantalying meat unwanted by the one that had ended it. Then, recently, she'd found a burrow of mice, which had supplied her with another meal, albeit smaller. The hunger that had clawed at her stomach, stolen her dreams from her and forced her back to the mortal realm, had been quelled, leaving the white lady free to dance and sing with her Sister.

Her aimless travels had brought the woman to a quaint little meadow, littered with moonlit flowers that appeared as little blurs of pinks, oranges, and yellows against a sea of blue green grass. Sister Moon was high in the sky, alighting Nimue's path as always, her loving moonbeams encouraging every step the colorless female took. The eternal song she almost always hummed had heightened to a full on tune, and she found herself freely racing across the meadow, light as a feather beneath her Sister's gaze. She ran at a leisurely pace, clearly in no true rush to get anywhere, and would occasionally perform a graceful spin, dancing with the moonlight. She simply could not contain this fleeting moment of joy!

When fatique began to tug at her senses, she slowed her pace to a halt, allowing her body to rest, but her soul continued on, still eagerly singing the eternal song. She canted back her head, pointed her dusty pink nose skyward, and parted her jaws with a melodous, wispy howl. It was soft and faintly eerie, two adjectives that could describe the ghostly woman's entire existance, and would likely only be heard by those nearby. Yet she cared not for who heard it; it was entended for the Sister.
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Zhenya had decided to leave the Flatlands, and instead wandered into another region. Though her paws ache from moving from such rough terrain to one of more grace, she continues onward, following the scent of another femme not far away. A soft yawn flutters into her ears, temporarily entrancing her. A low rumble of desire builds in her chest, forcing her onward in an attempt to sate her hunger. Upon arriving, she sees the other and feels her breath leave her. Прыгожая. Яна надзвычай прыгожая, Zhenya thinks to herself as she skulks around the woman, hidden in the darkness of the night. Her coat blends well with the foliage, rendering her nearly invisible.

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Plumes of warm breath billowed from her maw as she sang her song, materalizing on the icy night's air. When her lilting song came to an end, she gently closed her maw but kept her eyes skyward, gaze set on the illustrous Sister as if in a trance. How grateful she was to have the watchful Sister by her side, and so bright and visible too! The smaller mortals hid behind blurs of color that Nimue more often than not struggled to make out, but Sister Moon had nothing to hide from her colorless creation, and presented herself to the half blind wolf with great gusto. Yes, life would be such a dark and dull existence without the Sister... Unfortunately, the Sister's rays burned a little as well if Nimue observed too long, so she turned her pink eyes down to the frosted flowers at her feet instead.

Even at this distance they appeared blurry, and they felt stiff from the cold, but the spectre sought their embrace anyway. She lowered her muzzle to the ground and ran it through the flowers and grass blades, then her body followed suit, gracefully twisting to the side so she'd turn over and end up on her back. Stiff, cold, and not very comfortable, but the joy put in her by the Sister kept Nimue's spirits high, regardless. She simply continued to hum her song and wistfully stared up at the sky.

The wind soon tickled her nose with an unfamilar scent, one that was only identifiable because of her other keen senses: a wolf. She was not alone, and her basking in the Sister's glow was not private. What did it matter, though? Nimue had nothing to hide, and she didn't fear other mortals like she probably should in her weak state. If another sought her company, so be it. She turned her head back so as to try and see them through the grass blades, but the figure blended perfectly with the darkness of night, causing Nimue's eyes to roam, but never settle. 

"It seems the Sister guides another in her veil of darkness," she sang airly, vaguely hinting she knew the wolf was there, but not pressuring them to come out.
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Desire peaks as the blanched ghost begins rolling through the frosted foliage. It is as though Zhenya is hallucinating, for the beauty the femme holds is etheral in nature and untouchable to the outside. One can almost see the stark standing her blood would cause against such a pale coat, such light surroundings. And her voice! When she speaks, Zhenya's knees wobble, making it hard for her to remain upright in such trying circumstances. She is an angel; Zhenya is almost hurt to know that she must taint such a pure soul.

A bark erupts from the murderess's maw as she reveals herself, her slick, agouti coat something completely unlike the other's. Coming uncomfortably close, she gives a wryry smile and circles the albino. You seem lonely. Her words are smooth as they flow from her. Zhenya comes to the girl's backside and nips at her tail, slightly tugging to test the other's defenses. On her other side, she nips and her shoulder before a thick rumble of laughter is released into the air.

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She was greeted by the sound of crunching grass, telling the white lady where to look if she wished to peak at her companion. Not that it made much of a difference; even when knowing where to look, the agouti woman still blended too well with the environment to look like anything more than a looming shadow, dimly outlined in the Sister's silver rays. Nimue did not move from her position, merely staring up at the other with her wide, pink eyes, head just slightly tilted to the side.

Hearing the other's smooth comment, her distant gaze wandered from the blurred stranger, staring once more up at the moon above and reflecting it's illustrous light. "None are truly alone when Sister Moon reigns high in the sky." A would-be smile twitched at the corner of her pink lips, hidden by the stoic mask she would forever wear. Truthfully, if her isolation stretched too long, she did get lonely, even to the point of panic, but that hadn't happened for a while now, as a lot of strangers had been gracing her presence lately. Still, she believed her words to be true, knowing the Sister would always be there to guide her blurry path, and this was comforting.

She detected no hardness or threat in the other woman's voice, so she did not move. Even if she had, she still wouldn't move, as threats of the mortal realm seeme insignifgant when the etheralm realm was so close. The grey woman had now moved around her body and sought out the spectre's colorless tail, quickly lowering her muzzle and giving the fluffy apendage a sharp tug. Not expecting that, Nimue's hind legs lurched and her body jumped, but it was not a move to defend herself; just a reaction. Instead, she slowly curled her body to the side, sweeping her neck along the ground so as to better see the stranger. What was she up to?

Next came a nip at her shoulder, and the ghostly woman was not as surprised this time, though still perplexed by the other's actions. She nonchalantly turned her head to the side, peering up at the female with wide, questioning eyes. The woman then laughed. Was it a game? Odd.

"You have my attention, sister. Has Her night made you restless? Perhaps you'd like to lay down, too."

Too open for her own good, no doubt. In her constant dreamy state of life, she welcomed all, and thought nothing ill of inviting this random stranger with unknown intentions to rest by her side.
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For a beast of such beauty, the other proves herself to be more dim-witted than Zhenya thought possible with each passing moment. A surge of inner conflict arises, as she is presently unsure if the beauty her prey possesses would be worth tainting her own intelligence with the ghost's ignorance. She is unsure of what to do, what move to make next, making her all the more frustrated in her trials. With her hackles raised and a firey rage beginning to burn in her eyes, Zhenya makes a more aggressive approach, attempting to throw the other off balance with a head-butt to the sensitive flesh of her torso.

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Through her blurred vision, she could only faintly see the anger contortion of the other's face. Coud not see the fire blazing in the foreign woman's eyes. Could not anticipate the aggressive headbutt that met her torso, sending the white lady rolling in the grass with a nearly silent yelp. The cold, hard ground met her on all sides for a brief moment, and her distant mind spun as the world turned. When she found herself up right again, now lying on her belly instead of foolishly exposing it to the heavens, she was terribly disoriented. The aggresion had not been seen or heard, but it had definitely been felt, causing her pink gaze to flash with animal instinct as she gracefully rose to her paws, her sense of balance having finally returned. Her ears were pinned back as she looked at the other, apprehension and confusion evident in her body language.

It was not normal for her to rethink her decisions or question what happened in life, but in instances like these, she had no choice but to wonder what she'd done wrong, or what could possibly be wrong with the other wolf. It's not a game, Sister Moon whispered in her ear, causing the silvery moonbeams to appear as more of an eerie warning than light meant to dance in. 

Nimue's nose searched the wind, trying to find any scents that would give her answers. The foreign woman didn't smell of other wolves, at least not freshly, and none seemed to be nearby, so the strange concept of "tresspassing" that many got upset over could not be the issue. Did this wolf just want her to leave...?

"What have I done to anger you, sister?" She whispered, hoping the stranger would explain herself.
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Pleased to see her strength succeed, Zhenya allows another sickly grin to form across her snout and her tail to flick out, licking at her dewy nose to salvage the scent left of the other. Fear eminates from her prey, the beating of her heart almost audible in the eery silence. Zhenya's muscles tense with a powerful thirst and undeniable need. Taking a step forward, she snaps at the other, allowing her jaws to clench with immense force. You're beautiful, Sister. It inspires me. There is a sickening curl added onto her words as she moves closer. Zhenya makes another attempt to grab at the other, hoping to dig into whatever flesh is available.

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With each step closer the woman took, Nimue took a step backwards. When the aggressive set of jaws snapped shut in front of her, she jumped and took two steps back, another barely audible yelp parting her lips. 

The stranger's words made no sense. What was supposed to be a compliment came out as something sickening and sinister, bringing this femme's intentions into frightening clarity as she continued to step forward with menace. Even the way she said sister did not bring comfort, but rather seemed like threatening mockery, as if the stranger sought to snap at Sister Moon herself.

Nimue took a peaceful approach to life for many reasons. One being that she constantly lived in a fantasy, her mind always drifting in some higher realm, oblviious to the concerns of mortals. Her mortality was easily put aside when the eternal song of Sister Moon constantly hummed in the spectre's brain, always hinting at something more important. Then there was the fact that her appearance unsettled many, causing them to regard her as a curse, or something just as wicked, that they dared not to approach. Therefore, attacks were rare, so she didn't have enough experience to live in fear of them.

When attacks did happen, however, such as now, her usually dreamy mind would transform into something extremely different: animalistic terror. She'd be hit with so many foreign emotions at once that her sanity would dissolve, and the world would start to rapidly spin around her, making the otherwise serene woman lose her mind.

Her heart hammered, her breathing became ragid, and her paws could not remain on the ground for more than a mere second. When the next lunge came, she made to spring back, but was not quick enough. The hungry femme's jaws snapped shut around her lower right forearm, causing yet another airy scream of pain to emmit from the ghost's throat. Each sharp tooth dug deep into her pink skin, creating a torturous vice around her arm that soon began to leak crimson blood. More yelps escaped her throat as she desperately tried to pull away, each time sounding fuller and fuller as the panic continued to seize her, each tug making the pain worse and worse.

"LET GO OF ME!" She shrieked, her voice having grown raspy and grating instead of light and pleasant. 
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A moment of euphoria causes Zhenya to freeze with her jaws clamped around the other's forearm. Her muscles release and her knees fall weak, though she is soon brought back to reality by the other's cries. In an effort to go back in for another, fleshier bite, she releases her prey, allowing the other a chance to escape. Though clambering and snapping further at the albino, the weak essence of her form leaves her uncoordinated and blinded by pleasure. If the woman hasn't run by now, she will surely run out of time to make her retreat.

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In an attempt to snap at something more important, the foriegn femme released her prey, and the colorless wolf didn't spare a second. In one swift (if not panicked) movement, she retracked her injured leg, leaned back onto her hinds with her forelegs tucked in, twisted her body away, and threw down her forelegs in the opposite direction, now completely turned away from her weakened attacker. Her tail even whisked out and lightly slapped the woman across the face, having just missed being snatched as well.

Pain quickly spiked up her forearm when she reconnected with the ground, but this only pushed her to move faster, quickly leaping away and taking off as fast as she could. She didn't dare to look back, didn't dare to slow down or even think about what was happening. She just ran, with the icy winds licking at her sides/open wound and a hammering heart pounding in her ears, her mind still gripped with fear as she made her escape. It was safe to say the white lady would not find peace again until she was miles away... Should she be lucky enough to get miles away. The moonlight, which had once seemed so pleasant and inviting, now seemed to pulse along with her heartbeat, as if Sister Moon were screaming for Nimue to run.
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There is nothing more for Zhenya to do as she watches the other run away from her, sprinting in the opposite direction. Behind her is a trail of blood; a temporary fix for a much larger addiction. Figuring she wouldn't be able to make a full chase, she resigns to lapping up the river left behind by the albino.