Silver Creek you'll make a fine rug, cat

AW, rosings wolves 'specially welcome

he set against the blackened bough of a douglas fir, his flank resting against its rough edge. between his paws a winter-fattened stoat sat, its face and mouth bloodied and chewed to an incomprehensible nub. to some, it simply looked like a wolf enjoying a warm meal -- but iliksis had deprived himself of his depraved appetite for far too long, and had taken to inflicting his violent tendencies out on his meals.

the stoat had suffered terribly, and had shuddered out its last long-suffering breath a few minutes before. disappointed his play-thing had been so easily defeated (especially for such an ill-tempered species!), iliksis began to neatly clip its fur back, revealing a wide swath of pale yellow subcutaneous fat underneath the thick winter hide.

beneath him the snow gradually sullied in color, until at last he was done with his work and a wide welt of red ringed him.

shitty mobile post is shitty

She smells the blood before him, sharp and hot. But she supposes that he smells much the same. She is drawn to the scene like a fly to death, nostrils flared, her eyes cold and impenetrable as they sweep across the carnage before landing on his face. 

Well caught, she croons, voice a little hoarse from disuse. Life has been silent, lately. Silent and dutiful. It is good to have such a competent hunter within our ranks.

Addison lifts her head, watching him. Waiting for his next move. She has burned for him for so long and relief cannot come soon enough.

iliksis was disappointed in his work; he had been too brutal, and likely overshocked the poor stoat to its demise. next time, he would administer his torment far more judiciously -- next time, he would ensure longer suffering.

he supposed it was to be expected: he had staved off his hunger for too long, and had been overzealous in his return. pushing the stoat away rather indifferently, he looked up in time to see addison's form break through the pale hinterland. apprising her with a quiet interest, he simply nodded at her commendation -- if only she knew what kind of hunter he was.

he gave her a smile, but it looked slimy and forced -- not withstanding the blooded ruff of his cheeks. he had noticed she had returned several weeks prior, but the flame he had liked of her, seemed all but extinguished. perhaps now, he would learn more of it -- now that no company save herself pressed near.

"where did you go?" he asked, changing the subject from him to her with a clinical coldness.

He has a right to know, as a packmate, and yet, he has no right; he owns nothing but her hopes and dreams, after all. Not her body—though that could be changed, with time—nor her journeys, forced or otherwise. Still, it would be discourteous to hold it back now that he has asked, and besides, part of her is dying to tell him, anyway.

Oh, can't Grayson make his matches, soon?!

The witches took me, Addison explained cryptically, stepping toward him, her paws skirting the blood. Cast spells over my unconscious form. Wormed their way into my brain. She paused, her polar eyes boring into his. Taught me things I did not know before. And then freed me. God knows why.

She sucked in a breath, shifting her weight as she steadied herself. I think I know why, though.

in truth, iliksis had expected an elaborate story -- and as she stepped forward, addison delivered to him the improbable. the brute's expression remained unchanged, but his dull yellow eyes lifted to hers, returning her stare with threadbare interest.

witches, spells, magicka. hocus pocus to the dark wolf, who had seen enough of the world to know the only thing that held sway over mortals was death. he blinked slowly, expectantly waiting for her to delve further into the mystery surrounding her disappearance.

"well?"

For once, they gave me control of my own destiny, Addison continues, not missing a beat. No one controls me but me. Not my father, not my brothers. . .no one.

She begins to stride toward him, a gleam in her eyes that hasn't been there before. She stops just a pace or two away, her breath fogging on the air, the rise and fall of her chest the only movement between them. All is still, all is silent.

Has Grayson told you who you are to wed? the Odolf witch—for real, now—asks.

addison's answer was no less cryptic than iliksis' would have been. he delivered her a rather indifferent glance, finding little merit in such a belief. to him, the only thing that controlled your destiny was the good-will of the people in it -- one malign will was all it took to extinguish light and life forever.

he did not voice this, but a flicker of his insolent opinion of her belief was present in his gaze as she spoke again, this time of their eventual pairings. iliksis was not a man that was excited by much but other wolves' displeasure, but he had wondered for some time if he would be paired with a woman at all this season. if he wasn't... well... he had his resources to ensure that he got his pound of flesh when he wished.

"no." he answered, giving a flick of his tail as if uncaring. how like a woman, to fret over such small items -- perhaps their little heads could hold little more than the whims of their insipid fancies. deciding to amuse her for a while longer, iliksis queried: "who would you like to wed?"

She holds his gaze, her lips not even betraying the hint of a smile despite the bloom of pleasure in her belly at his query. One beat, two beats, then—

You, Addison says baldly, unblinking. I want you.

There. It is out in the open between them, now; it cannot ever be taken back. Not like she wants to. . .but still. Still, sometimes things are better left unsaid, and maybe she'll learn it with time, but for now, she is ignorant. Only desire, cold and hot altogether, controls her tongue now. Her sense of decorum vanishes when she looks at him.

She lets out a small, tremulous breath. I'm young, she continues. Built well. Handsome. As if it were an advertisement for livestock. I can give you everything you want, and you can give me everything I need, Addison whispers, heart thundering in her chest.

so she wanted him.

it came as a small surprise to iliksis, though the beast hid the confounded emotion that snaked through him well. all too easily he hid the ripple of pleasure to know he was desirable -- at least, to a woman such as addison. dismissively, the sooted sprite flicked an ear as if warding away the unwanted touch of a fly. "you do not know what you want." he replied immediately, voice dry and spoken with the air of a man whose words were used sparingly and so, were rarely contested.

he would ruin her, of that he was sure. his gaze examined the soft rumple of her skin, the gossamer sheen of her fur -- from the outside she looked like any of his victims, but he was troubled still, for he had seen easily the change that had shifted over her, and the fire that burned dark in her gaze where before it had been bright as a small room lit by a crackling blaze.

he did not trust it.

"and you do not know what i want." his gaze left her, though the malicious way he had rovingly examined her still seemed to linger between them. "why do you need puppies? they will rape you of your body, and then when they claw your way through you, will reduce your individuality into nothing but meat in which they crawl towards for their milk. do you not think there are better aspirations than suckling whelps?"

You're right, she answers, her words sharp-edged and sardonic, I couldn't possibly know what either of us want. I'm just a silly woman, after all. She lets out a small snort of silent laughter, though with no humor to be found. Tell me, then. What do I want?

Addison shakes her head at his reasoning. Perhaps if I were born a man, I may strive for different goals, she says, voice losing its edge. Or if whelped in a different family. But I am an Odolf woman. My purpose from birth has been to bear fruit. There is no higher, more noble calling for me than that. And. . .

She runs her tongue along her jowls in a slow, thoughtful manner. My sons will be brave, and my daughters beautiful. They will inherit this world. Suckling weans they may be, but not for very long. It is worth the. . .rape. She lands flatly on that last word, not sure how to feel about it. Unsure what it really is even meant to refer to, in this context. 

Addison is not stupid. She's seen the violence in his eyes, a glint upon the pale gold. 

Anyway, one's body must be ravaged by a man to be destroyed by pups, she adds, trailing off, her lips slightly parted.

addison spoke, and for a while the dybbuk obliged her pedantic response, blinking owlishly with no urge in which to respond. while the hard edge had gradually faded from her voice, iliksis had no empathy for the newly-risen softness -- and at last when her train of thought ends with a listless tone, iliksis simply shrugged his narrow shoulders.

"your children will be bastards," he responded, rising then to pass her. brave, beautiful, strong, intelligent -- what use did it matter when the world, as iliksis saw it, was full of men like him in which to sully and darken the earth, and bring nothing but misery with them?

And then she sees it. Beyond the gleam of violence. That's all there is. There is no blood, no warmth. Nothing to suggest at all arousal or lust or—whatever had she seen before? He just stares coldly, no reaction to anything she says. And when the words fall out of his mouth, she should be more shocked.

They do shake her deeply, but only because they are everything she has never wanted to hear. But they are not shocking coming from him, specifically. He does know how to twist the knife, though.

Addison watches him leave, her frosty gaze fixed on him. There is a cold fury simmering underneath, an anger she's never released. Never been allowed to release. Women are gentle, docile; they do not stamp and swear and snarl. They keep everything down, unsurfaced. Out of sight, out of mind.

Brainless, spineless cunts.

The Odolf witch stands. A muscle jumps in the left corner of her mouth, a growl vibrating soundlessly at the base of her throat. Like a bomb ready to burst—

Then she turns and walks away, legs stiff. Leaving behind the first and only time she has dared to ask for what she wants.

But not the last time.