Ankyra Sound And What if I Fly? (Trigger Warning)

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Her wandering after Minnow's dissapearance had carried her paws upward, surprisingly, her heart pulled in two directions. On one hand, she was a healer, and there were pups around. But on the other she could not stay in a place with more pain, more loss. Not even having a body to bury left an ache in her chest she had never expected. 
Surya was sweet, but he was young, just a crush, really.
So she found herself once again by the sea, seeking comfort in the Briney air and lonliness of the tide. She made her way down the beach, poking her nose along the tide line for anything interesting.

Coming from the towering red woods just off the coast of the beach, his eyes land on the vast expanse of blindly white sand before him. He heavy paws carry him until his toes sink easily into the granulated rocks under him. The tangy orange of the the setting sun bounces color off the sand beautifully. It also tints the water an almost lavender hue, that he finds his eyes meeting greedily. The scenery before him catches his breath, almost makes his heart pump as his mind reverts back to a time he battled savagely on a beach near The Abbey.


Shaking his head and allowing the newly found smile to take over his expression, he thinks of the old times. Oh did he love them.

Yet, his eyesight might just deceive him, or maybe it’s the blindly white light they call the sun, but there is another wolf on the beach. Instantly his brows furrow, his smile grows maliciously, and he begins a tantalizingly slow pace to the animal.

At a good enough distance of about, forty feet. He hums appreciatively at the distinctly feminine scent that catches in his nose. Then the shapely female that catches his eyes. “Now, who are you?”

She hadn't expected to find another on the beach. He had appeared like a ghost, or perhaps something much darker. The setting sun caused the whole sky to light with crimson and maroon hues, and if she had any sense of self preservation she would take it as a warning.
The man towered above her with yellow eyes that caressed her body in ways that made her stomach clench and she took a few hesitating steps backwards, Sapphire eyes wide with apprehension. 
"I am Aphrodite, Daughter of Minerva and healer of White Bark Stream." She answered confidently, hiding the tremble in her voice. 
"You don't look like any wolf I've met before- I'm not certain you look like a wolf at all! Who, and what, are you?" 
Fear gave way to curiosity as she studied him closer.

The fiery sun bounces off the agouti pelt she bears; the browns becoming scarlet, the creamy white shifting into golden yellow. Then those soulful cobalt irises are what catch his attention next, the twinge of fear riddled in them makes him laugh internally. So weak.

Then she speaks and he’s surprisingly enthralled by the smooth voice that sings into his ears. “Daughter of Minerva.” A pause. “Healer of Whitebark Stream.” He parrots slowly. His eyes still hold malicious intent but he relaxes his face of the intense expression he previously wore.

“So you’re a pack wolf then.” He comments smoothly, after she’s confessed where she’s from. Then he audibly chuckles, the laugh rumbling his muscled body. “You’re not wrong, dear. I’m not like any wolf you’ve ever met; I’m better.” He punctuates his sentence becoming just a few steps closer. Expression still lax enough to not seem horribly suspicious, he laughs quietly now. “Call me, Donovan. At least you’re not dull. You’re right, I’m not a wolf. Or a full one at least.” He rumbles back.

He guesses her status and she nods, swallowing her apprehension as his gaze relaxes, that unsettling smirk still on his visage. 
"Yes, we're a small bunch but we have love for each other. Past the mountains." 
Again, logic should have told her not to indicate that her pack, and therefore anyone who could protect her was not very close, but she was unfortunately lacking in the sort of logic that would say such a thing. 
Her eyes narrow as he boasts, head cocked suspiciously as he leers down at her. 
"Better? Unless you are a god I struggle to think how you could be better than any wolf." She answers, her voice stubborn. Besides- he wasn't better than Santiago. Or Artyom for that matter. He gives his name and she gives a shy smile, Cerulean meeting Gold curiously. 
"Nice to meet you, Donovan. And if you aren't a wolf- what are you? I would mistake you for part Bear but I don't think that's possible." 
She gave a chuckle and turned away, back to her beachcombing. Nosing over a clump of kelp she exposed a dead seal pup, rancid and covered in flies. 
"Interesting-but not quite the type of interesting I was looking for..." 

At her comment he instinctively flicks his gaze around to find the mountains of this unfamiliar land. Gold eyes landing on them he hums in acknowledgement.

As he turns back to the she-wolf, her tone becomes different. Attitude hearty in her scarlet voice and the words she lets drift from her mouth make him chortle. “I’m part dog–Akita specifically is what they called my ancestors.”

Then as she mentions that he’s not the type of interesting she’s looking for he scoffs. Coming closer with teeth gleaming, he chuckles as he begins to look over her. Canary hues staring intently at her and a cocky expression crosses him. “No, not a god.” He answers her earlier question finally, pausing ominously. “A saint.” He ends with another step towards her.

A part dog. It's fascinating, tempting. If he didn't make her so uneasy she might be inclined to get to know him better, but without heat to cloud her already thin ability for judging character she feels the need to put distance between them. 
But each time she tries to pull away he closes the gap, pinned between the sea and his towering form. He proclaims himself a saint but the way he says it makes her heart beat nervously in her throat, the nape of her neck beginning to bristle. 
"I'm afraid I'm of the pagan variety myself. No need for saints here. I'm plenty busy with my family's gods." 
She sidesteps again, feeling his eyes take her in hungrily and she finds herself tucking her tail neatly, instinctively concealing her scent.

His brows raise in a faux pout, yet his smirk says something else entirely. “Are you now? Not even this one?” He asks referencing himself, closing in on her even further.

The eyes flick to the bristling of the hair along the spine and that cute little tail tucking beneath her form. He likes it, the fear in her voice and body language. Vaguely wonders what she’d sound like begging for her measly, useless life. Or maybe she isn’t measly or useless, she could be of use to him. Give him some company on the road.

Knowing she’s on edge now, he snaps his jaws near her face. The action becoming audible as his powerful, impressive teeth meet. He wants her to snap back at him. Does want to see any of that fear shit, or he does, he just wants her to be a little feistier.

She steps back further as he again advances on her, her hind paws now being caressed by the frigid waves. She has nowhere to run. 
her eyes flash and she steels herself as he again croons at her, swallowing the bile in her throat to give a hasty reply. 
"Yes, even you,"  she grates out between gritted teeth as he invades her space, dark and imposing. She glares up at him defiantly, flight turning to fight and when he snaps at her she curls her lips exposing pearlescent teeth, demure beauty disfiguring into indignant fury. This time it is her invading his space, chest to chest with him. 
"Your mother clearly never taught you manners. Touch me and you'll lose an eye." 
She realizes too late she's been herded, goaded, manipulated exactly where he wants her and her ears pin with dread. 
"I should be getting home. If...If you'll excuse me-" 

Dice Roll here

At the snap of his teeth in the beautiful face of the female before his, she doesn’t hesitate to snarl at him. Bearing ivory teeth, the words she snaps back only instigates the dominant fire within his breast.

After she announces her leave. He chuckles. “Don’t you wish she had?” He growls back with a playful lilt to it.

Almost instantly he knocks his massive head into her shoulder. Not enough to hurt too bad, but enough for her to get forced onto her side. The hit will probably leave bruises in its wake, yet he can’t really find it in himself to care. He has his eyes on the prize now and that prize is Aphrodite.

He wastes no time standing on top of her. Caging the female in with his muscles forearms, he cranes his head downward to stare her directly in the face. “I’d make an exception if I was you, dear.” He rumbles smoothly, just above a whisper, his voice tauntingly sweet.

Snapping head head away from the onslaught of teeth tearing at his face. He knows it’ll take time to heal and even longer for the hair to grow back–if it even does grow back. All the while she spits these venomous words to full of hatred and he’s not at all surprised by them–used to such insults actually.

His cheek drips with blood onto the sweet pelt of the she-wolf. It falls down his cheek, and lines his jaw before dropping off of his chin. “Shhh, calm down, darling. The more you struggle the more I have to hurt you. This could be enjoyable for the both of us...” He tries his best at convincing her.

Slowly and, much too, sweetly, he awaits for her to slow her movements by squeezing down and narrowing the space between his arms and legs, caging her in more effectively. Taking a risk, he lowers he muzzle down to her ear and gives a languid lick to her jaw, up to her ear. Prepared to flinch back at whatever predicted attack comes next.

She is not in heat, thankfully. For the first time in her life she is grateful for that, for her to come away from this with an empty womb. Even if she didn't, she could not bring herself to bring his spawn into the world. No, there were herbs to banish an unwanted litter. 
when his knot finally subsides she staggers out from under him, limbs shaking, fighting back the scream of horror at being violated. Her body aches, a trickle of blood creeps below her tail, staining the cream fur. 
But she sees a window and exploits it. His satisfied post coital stupor. She turns, fleeing, her breath coming in terrified gasps, trying to put as much distance behind her and this place as she can. 
She reached the rocks, cursing to herself as she's slowed down trying to pick her way through them, desperate to reach the meadow beyond.

He’s not stupid, he knew she would try an attempt at escaping and he signs, shaking his head as he watches her run. He doesn’t run for her just yet, he wants to give the female a fair chance at escape. Shaking off his body and comically stretching his hind legs, he eyes down the female struggling to make her way past the vast amount of rocks and boulders ahead. Standing straight he grins, a silent pause before he’s sprinting in her direction.

Sand kicking out behind him, his legs stretching to give himself a longer stride, he meets his first obstacle. His muscles flex and his hind legs curl in before springing him onto the boulder, gripping paws onto the rock, he launches himself to the next one. His movements are clean and practiced, he looks like an absolute machine as he narrows his sights onto the female. He’s gaining on her, faster than he’s sure she would expect.

The rough texture of the rocks gives him more grip and he’s traversing the terrain easily. Finally getting to leveler ground, he’s only a few meters behind her. Huffing hot breath out his nose and open, panting mouth he throws his muscles into overdrive and jumps high enough head to snap at her hind leg, enough to put her off balance. Here they both go tumbling through the grass of the meadow.

Her movements are frantic, clumbsy, and she slips and stumbles several times in attempt to escape, desperate to get away from the demon persuing her. 
it doesn't take him long to catch up with her and she's terrified, eyes wild with panic as he reaches her and she screams as he makes contact, snapping at her and causing her to lose her balance, sending her tumbling end over end through the the grass, and she realizes with horror- there is nowhere to hide. He is faster than her, and she is already battered and exhausted- there is no way she could get to the tangled woods fast enough. 
She retches, pain and exhaustion and disgust with what was done to her making her finally vomit, purging over and over again. 
Finally shes finished, tears streaming from her eyes, sides heaving. She is again trapped, defeated. 
An anguished, keening sob escapes her and she stands, splay legged, every muscle in her body terrified. 
"What...more...do you want!?" She wailed. "You fucked me. Please...just let me go...." Pain and desperation drewdere pretty face into a grimace and she dissolved in front of him, crumbling and afraid.

He rolls through the grass alongside her. Coming to his feet a few feet away from her, he shakes himself off. The brindle in his pelt stunning in the lowering light of the evening. Her stands stall, hardly effected by the tumble, besides his lighted heavy breathing. He watches the female before him crumble, wailing out into the quickly darkening sky, she’s broken and battered. The tear stains along her puffy eyes draw his own in to watch the scene before him. Spindly legs struggling to keep her upright, she pleads to him, begs to know why he’s doing this to her.

Her words really hit him. Why is he doing this to her? He’s had gruesome and gory fun in the past, yet he’s only been brought down this low a few times. Probably only once before and even then he didn’t go this far. Instantly he blames it on Sasha, on his murdered pack, he has nothing to put forth his attention to. His pack, his life as a king, died alongside everyone and everything else when that bitch blew the whistle. He’s never been a lone wolf, never thought he would be. Rather he thought he’d live the rest of his days out to be challenged my some young fuckboy for the lead spot in his pack and perhaps later dying in battle. Yet, his destiny is all cocked up and he can’t seem to wrap his head around that. So he makes others suffer for it. Makes others suffer because he can’t cope with what’s happened to him. He’s fucking weak. Or maybe this is just how he copes. He retaliates to the little voice in his head telling him that he’s weak.

It’s at this point he decides that he’ll have more time for soul searching and contemplating when he lays down tonight. In an attempt to right the voice in his head, he decides that he will bring the she wolf with him. He’ll force her to follow him for the time being.

He steps towards her, a mixture of emotions swirling in his own eyes that he doesn’t want to place. He stops just in front of her. Tilting his head down to put his nose under her chin and lift her head up he lets loose a barely audible laugh. One devoid of emotion except for his smile, which also somehow seems forced.

“I want you to come with me.” He whispers back, dangerous gaze never leaving her own. “We will go hunt for the night and settle down in a cave by the shore. Understand?” He says the words smoothly, calmly, but still with an underlying tone of danger.

Her question seems to make him falter for a moment and she begins to formulate a desperate plan. 
She is exhausted and there is no way to escape tonight, so when he orders her to accompany him she nods softly. She has no choice for now. If she wants to survive she must wait till the following night at the earliest. 
He stares into her eyes and she gazes back, crystal blue limpid pools still carrying a hint of strength and defiance deep within them. She knew her Goddess was with her, protecting her, surrounding her. 
But she needed to gain his trust, for him to lower his guard. 
"I'm exhausted and weak. If I try to hunt I'll only get in the way." Nevermind the fact she had no intention of eating. 
"I can fetch some medicine for your cheek...if I do it right it won't scar that badly." 
She made a silent prayer to Artemis again, desperate for him to believe her.

Staring down at the agouti female his face is devoid of any hard emotion. He doesn’t believe her one bit. Judging by her reply he knows she doesn’t want to help him, especially with what just happened.

“Then we don’t hunt tonight.” He says simply. He’s been in a captured position before and he knows exactly what she’s trying to do. “I’ll come with you to gather herbs. Lead the way.” He says casually back, a small smirk coming to his maw. The words more like an order if anything.

Of course he won't leave her alone. She pins her ears anxiously, tail clamped over her nether regions in case he tried to have his way with her again tonight. "Yes sir." She answers softly. She moves stiffly, pain and exhaustion evident in her features. She turned, gazing longingly at the direction of the Plateau, and wondered if she had stayed with Aiolos...if she hadn't been so selfish... would this still have been her fate?
A sigh is her only answer to herself as her eyes scan the grass in front of her. After an hour or two of searching she finally finds decent enough substitution for the materials she would typically use. 
"This.. should do it." She turns to him, eyes dowcast. "I don't have the right pain relievers so some of these will probably burn..." She tried to still the anxiousness in her voice. She hated this. Hated him. But she had to pretend to be nice, at least until tomorrow night. Rest, wait till he fell asleep, then slip away towards the bramble.

After following her around for ages, just raging in the blooming flowers, trees ripe with leaves, and greening grass all bathed in the soft blue-white light of the moon. He sighs gratefully when she declared that she’s done gathering what she needed and he wordlessly steps closer to her so she can apply, his haunches meet the ground in a sitting position and he lowers his head for her. His glowing, canary eyes watch her intently.

She's surprised how quickly he plops down in front of her, and it dawns on her sickeningly that he expects her to serve him. She chews the comphrey root silently, avoiding his piercing gaze before spitting the pulpy mess onto a leaf. 
She scoops it, pressing it roughly into the wound, no gentleness or kindness in the gesture. Why should she? Yes she was trying to appease him to preserve her own life but she felt no inclination to give him even the slightest humane treatment. As she worked, she finally grew uncomfortable in the silence. 
"Do you plan to let me go, eventually? I have duties...pups to attend to...a student to train. Please...I won't tell them about you.. they won't come looking for you I promise...." Her voice wavered but she was too exhausted to cry anymore.

He peers down at her and watches as she chews up the mess of herbs, spitting it onto a leaf, it’s more of a paste now. Then she brings it up to his face, smearing the glop of herbs and spit onto the cuts on his cheek. His brows meet pensively as her words seem to be true–it does burn and she’s not being gentle whatsoever. Can he really blame her though, he’s be worse in her situation. He would’ve been killed already.

While she works her magic, she asks him a question, voice wilting and not as confident as she seemed earlier. He found the silence comforting, yet she found it unnerving.

“Ssshh, don’t get yourself all worked up again, dear.” He mumbles quietly to her. “I’ll let you go eventually.” Is his answer to her persistent babbling. 

He will eventually. Why do I even want her now? He makes himself wonder. He assumes it’s because of his earlier predicament, where he got lost in his thoughts. Straying there once more, he shakes himself from the thought.

After she finishes, he stands and nods his head over to a shaded spot below a tree. “We’ll sleep here for the night.” He says quietly, sounding almost tired.

She wants to scream at him. The soft, almost loving way he speaks to her is infinitely worse, and she almost would prefer to be beaten and snarled at. 

She had always believed that every wolf could make his own destiny, every wolf was redeemable. 
But he wasn't a wolf was he? He had said so himself. And a hatred clenched around her heart. She would never trust another dog again. She would rather they be left to rot. 
He indicates the tree a few feet from them and she nods, pushing her exhausted and overworked muscles to dig out the soil beneath the roots, wedging herself snugly in.  Trembling from fear, pain, and exhaustion she enters the makeshift den, watching him discretely. She needed to know what kind of sleeper he was.

As he shows her the den, she accepts the spot and begins digging herself a den beneath the great roots. It looks rather comfy if he has anything to say about it. Lucky her; she’s small. It’d be to much work to dig himself a den.

He watches her carefully, she seats herself beneath the ground and curls in on herself. He’s sure he’d hear her broken sobs later on in the night. Whether or not he’d make the move to comfort her, he cannot say. Most likely the answer would be no, but he might just do it to fuck with her head.

She peers at him from her little hidie-hole, he stares back and his mouth curls slightly at the corners for a brief moment before returning to normal. Padding over to her makeshift den, he lies down just in front of it, not directly facing her but close enough to hear her shift about. He doesn’t curl into a protective ball like the she-wolf does, rather he flops himself down and splays his hind legs out to the side and rests his upper body on his elbows. As a last ditch effort to warn her not to do anything stupid, he glances back to her, brows raises and a face that says, You’re not going to do anything stupid are you? before he rests his head on his front paws. He almost falls asleep instantly.