@Relmyna - backdated to before the war threads begin
The shroud of darkness that hung over the wild wood was almost comforting. It seemed as though Blackfeather was full of like-minded beasts, but Ithrik was not at all interested in their brood. The patchwork hound was more intrigued by what had drawn his nephew to the borders of their territory. There must have been something that called to the inner savage of Iliksis, and the devil was willing to endure their stay to find out what that was. After his own acceptance, the foul creature had already picked the scent of sweet children. Their aroma wafted through the air in a tantalizing and luring pattern. Surely, it would not take him long to find them and treat himself.
Plumes rose from wide nostrils as Ithrik slunk through the wild wood in search of life from within. The scent of his nephew lingered in the air, but he was not interested in seeking out the young wolf just yet; he would give it time before he found the brash boy. The devil was more interested in the other bodies who filled the ranks of the pack. He was certain that they would have talents of their own. More than this, he was enthralled with the prospect of young children being near. His pace slowed and he drew his skull upward to drink in the scent – it called to him.
The fraction of light that filtered down through the dense foliage had taken to dancing along the hound's neck and shoulders. It illuminated the lengthy white hairs that stood rigid there, offering the devil an unearthly appearance. His slinking pace would otherwise have granted him the presentation of a snake beneath the foliage of the forest floor. As it was, Ithrik moved like a shadow; he was swift and silent, and he would have completely missed the female if she had not attempted to increase her pace to pass him. Instead, his ears swiveled atop his crown to the sound of crunching earth beneath her paws and he felt his own limbs begin to slow their pace.
Almost instantly, Ithrik ceased his movement altogether and snapped his skull in the direction of the approaching female. Once he was able to latch his gaze to her frame, he felt a hunger begin to scratch in the pit of his stomach. Two fiery optics played along the curves of her body and the pale cloak that shrouded her figure. He had always been fond of white fur; a startling contrast of crimson had always made a bold statement. The hound watched for longer than was comfortable before his dark lips curled upward into an uneasy smirk.
“Hello, hello,” he whispered. A raspy chuckle escaped from his leathery lips, revealing the tips of rotten fangs before disappearing beneath his dark-haired muzzle.
The pale dove pulled her own gaze up to meet his, casting a stirring in the pit of his gut that caused him to giggle inappropriately. His tail swished behind him and he jerked his head forward to drink in her scent. Swinging his crown back to lock with her vision, Ithrik noted that her gaze bore the color of the quiet ocean on a lightly clouded sky. It was a startling contrast to his own, but he did not mind that about her. It was the cool way that she regarded him; the stomached fear that he liked. It tickled his flesh like the touch of a feather. The devil regarded her for a moment longer before he took another few steps forward; his eyes danced along her frame, eating her up. Every dip of her body tore his mind through a field of tangled thorns that pricked violently in his mind.
The serpent pulled his tongue across his muzzle and snapped it shut behind a cage of fangs once more. While he hungered to leap on top of her and sink his teeth into the nape of her neck, Ithrik held his ground now that he was closer to her frame. A strange piece fell from her mouth and into the dirt, resting between two careful paws. He watched it for a moment before returning his attention to her face. The dark marks beneath her eyes made him curious.
“What are you doing out here all alone?”
The pale woman did not want him there. Ithrik was angered by this. Her warning for him to step aside did not go unnoticed, but it did go ignored. His ears were erect to catch the sound of a snarl that never found air outside of her mouth. The devil smirked coldly and took another step toward her, disregarding any warning that she should offer. “That's not very nice,” he hissed through gnarled, rotten teeth. Brows furrowed and his ears splayed to sit pointed on either side of his head. Ithrik drew his tongue over his lips once more and roamed the front of her with a calculating stare.
The pallid woman did well at hiding her fear, but this only worked to bolster his aggression. Ithrik despised the brash boldness of her gaze and the quiet hiss that erupted through her teeth. The voice in his mind urged him to lunge for her. The devil wanted to see if she was just as strong with his body atop her own. It was not likely that she would let him, but he had very little to lose to those woods. More so than wanting to bend her to his will, he wished to snap his fangs against her muzzle to silence her quiet warnings. Ithrik would not let her have her way; he would not depart. Bristling pelt, the devil curled his lip and growled softly. The black of her eyes was compelling. He only wished that he could take the dark markings along with the blue of her gaze. She did not intimidate him, but then again... very little did. Drawing his pink tongue along his muzzle, he lowered his head to protect his throat from any unwanted attempts at an attack and moved to step closer to her. Ithrik wanted to smell her fear.
There was only a small sign of emotion through the quivering of her frame. The devil could not tell if this was anger, indignant stubbornness, or fear. The burn of his gaze roamed her figure again and he thought how nice it would have been to stuff himself inside of her and fill her with cum. Goosebumps rose along the pink of his flesh and he breathed deeply, heart increasing its pace. Ithrik did not care if he should meet a string of attackers at the touch of her skin; he never thought too far into what consequences his actions would sow. The hound knew what he wanted and it was in this desire that he lost a vast majority of his reasoning. With a sickening slurp of his tongue against the roof of his mouth, the piebald creature lunged for her and aimed to sink his teeth into the nape of her neck.
The devil found purchase in her nape and she grunted against him, holding her limbs steadfast to the earth for support. The tension in her shoulders drove him to madness and Ithrik snarled through the tufts of her pelt in his mouth. His gnarled teeth were clenched tightly, but he was finding himself unimpressed with her posture. The fiend wanted to despoil her with more than just a break of her womanly heat, but a battering of her spirit.
Moving his frame, the male attempted to wrap his dark limbs around her waist. Swinging his head from the left to the right, he uttered a guttural growl. The rumbling of his voice spoke of his desires, and the brute bucked his hips into the air – reaching nothing – in preparation for his plunge. In his movement, his teeth loosened their grip on the skin of her neck, but he did not notice.
It was in his mistake that she found her mark, and he yipped in surprise as her fangs scored against his cheek and the side of his muzzle. Had she swung her head around any further, she would have found purchase against his eye. The thought aggravated him, and Ithrik pulled himself away from her with a defensive snarl. His pair of citrine eyes were locked on her frame with a thirst, but he had always been fearful of retaliation, and the devil was not eager to feel the snapping of her teeth again.
“Don’t you want it?” he demanded with a pointed stare and bristling fur. Surely, she would feel far more at peace if he could sink himself in her heat. Drawing a slobber-ridden tongue along his muzzle, he made to step closer to her again. There was hesitation in his actions this time around; it was clear that her counterattack had proven useful.
i am pulling nasty boi out of the game - he's a bitch to handle right now haha but please let me know if you want me to edit a different ending to this. i'll leave it up for a week if you want to reply again and archive it in a week if you do not
The wispy woman bolstered her resolve and aimed at him with a swift bite that found purchase in the top of his muzzle. Ithrik did not bow but snapped his teeth wickedly at the touch of her reprimand. The devil felt a sour bile in the back of his throat and spat at her feet. This poorly timed insult to her physical being was met with a lunge of her frame, aiming to catch his larger body and knock him down. There she found purchase again, striking him at just the right moment that he was knocked to his side and rolled once away from her. Grounding himself and rushing to land on his feet, Ithrik growled coldly at the woman. “Nasty cunt,” he rasped to her in a sickening tone. But he had lost his interest in her once she fought back against him; he did not want to whittle away at her resolve. With his patience shot, the piebald fiend turned from her with a twisting of his frame. He cast a glance back over his shoulder as he drew his leg and urinated against the trunk of the nearest tree. Ithrik met her gaze disrespectfully but abandoned the challenge once he had emptied himself. The devil slithered back into the darkness of the wood and did not seek her again.