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This is a war on the poor
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#1
All Welcome 

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When Juárez and Soto are kingpins of this territory, Niño’ll get tossed the table scraps. All he’s gotta do is shut up and take orders. Plush gig for a guy like him. A chance to do himself some real good.
He’s what the cartel calls a falcon. Scout. Bottom rung of the social stratum. He’d been a falcon since he was old enough to walk. Learned fast that a closed mouth meant a full belly. Turns out folks are pretty forgiving of a whelpling in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he quickly became a proverbial flea on the teat of a jefe. No one batted an eye, small as he was. Mujeres called him cute– at the time.
But things had changed. He got bigger and perceived as a threat. He leaned into the allegations, started putting on some muscle and putting down wolves. Decided, he’d be a hitman.
The thing about killing wolves
– it’s sadly easy. But it’s a sensation.
Sex and killing, about the only times he felt alive.

The brothers had split off. Niño follows a river north while the jefes stay south. The surrounding dry lands seem too clean– scrubbed by wind and bleached by sun, no doubt matching the perfect ingrates who dwell here. Drafts signify a heavy wolf population. The hound beds down in arms of needlegrass and eyes the distant mesa. He’d do nothing more than observe for a day or two and gather intel. Familiarize himself with who comes and goes.
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#2
couldn’t resist bringing her back temporarily and throwing her at this XD

Tierra had parted ways with @Redbird temporarily. She said she had family she needed to visit… but as she’d returned to the wilds, her path had driven her in a straight line towards Akashingo. She didn’t have to see her family, like, immediately. She just needed a break and something to help her relax. No harm in relaxing.

Tierra squinted as an unfamiliar scent hit her, but shrugged it off. There were probably tons around that she didn’t know, and she was still a little ways off from the…. What’d they call it again? Caves? Hangout? Eh, who cared.

She failed to see the stranger in the grass as she strode right past him, intent on her goal.
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This is a war on the poor
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#3
thank you for joining <3

Niño watches the woman. Cold gaze scouring her.
Deep sangre, youthful legs, and eyes taking the sun.
She’s a flame, fuego. She’s alone.

He wasn’t here to get involved. To watch, and move on. Jefes’ orders.
But this wouldn’t take long.

He jaws a growl, alerting to his presence, and emerges from the field on massive paws. Behind him a dark tail raises to half-mast. His eyes betray an energy, something between hungry and demanding. He will approach with the intent to grab her nape if she does not run.

But he hopes she will.
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#4
Tierra was taken by surprise when a sound came from a ways off, but when she turned to find a funny looking wolf there, she immediately assumed he was from Akashingo. They’d always kept weird looking servants around for whatever reason. He was kind of ugly for their usual… but that was probably the point. What normal wolf would want to be a servant anyway?

Even the way he stared fit right in with them. Tierra felt a bit of a chill but ignored it, instead taking a more imperious stance in front of him. Hey! You’re one of those ‘fella’ guys, right? I’m on official business to meet with Pharoah.

Total lies, but weren’t like, treaties and shit official? So it didn’t have to be a lie. She expected him to stop, defer, and take her where she wanted to go. She definitely did not expect him to ignore all of that and go for her instead. His attempt would take her by surprise and leave him with the upper hand.

Not that she’d take it quietly. Tierra and “quiet” didn’t belong in the same territory, let alone the same sentence.
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This is a war on the poor
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#5
Didn’t run. Her first mistake.
Second is trying to reason with a man who doesn’t speak your language.

He didn’t need to know the common to tell her what was going to happen next. He grips the woman by the scruff and pillars himself over her, tail tabbing high, lips curling in a declared state of predominance.

She’s loud.
Each shriek warrants a corrective strike, a test of his honed teeth to her hide.
But she is resistant, implacable.
Needs to work herself up a bit.

Grazing his gnarled lips to sangre’s cheek, the hound whispers hoarsely against her fevered temple.
He growls, unfettering their arms.

Corre lobito.”
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#6
What THE F- was all she had time to get out before he’d grabbed her. If he was one of Pharaoh’s guys then he was WAY out of line. In her panic she didn’t register that his scent was unfamiliar. She only raged that he would dare invade her space like this, shrieking and trying to twist and bite whatever she could.

It wasn’t working. She couldn’t reach.

Then, somehow, she was free. Tierra didn’t need to understand her grandmother’s language to know what to do next. The moment she registered that she was unpinned she was gone, lunging and sprinting away from both him and Akashingo.

You are so dead. The places he’d bit stung. She didn’t turn to fight, but there was no way it was going to be that easy.
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Wolf’s natural inclination to wander can lead her to dangerous ground in very short order.

Spates of protest cut clear across the flatlands, rousing warning caws from the beaks of prairie fowl. Niño grinned wide at her defiance, tongue passing over jowls, hard-eyeing her retreat.
He would relish the challenge.

Debris and grass blades kick up into the air, the dog falling upon her trail in rapturous pursuit. He pants through motes of sangre's own dusty wake, clobbered lungs grunting, the hounding of his long strides taking no falter.
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#8
He was just one wolf. One weird looking freak of a wolf. She could take him easily. He’d just caught her by surprise. He just got lucky. If she really fought him he wouldn’t stand a chance.

She didn’t turn around. Tierra could hear him following. The sound of his ugly breathing made her gut churn.

She should’ve slept last night. Instead she’d traveled through it, knowing that once she got to Akashingo (and talked her way into their hospitality) she’d sleep that much better. Were they even still there? She could’ve tried her luck on their borders but maybe this guy was one of theirs.

Tierra stumbled on the unfamiliar terrain, but managed to stay on her feet. If he didn’t give up she’d have no choice soon but to fight.
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#9
Never had obstinance tasted so sweet, and she gave him the runaround, refusing to tire even as the miles fell away beneath her canter.

How contemptible she must find him. How repulsive.
He could give a shit.

This had become much more a battle of athleticism and he was gonna prove he was worth her time.
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#10
feel free to power play if you like!

Tierra’s breath came hard now and this time, when she stumbled, her legs weren’t as quick to recover. Fuck this. He was done.

She put what energy she had left into a direct about-face, whirling and charging at her pursuer with bared fangs. She had no strategy. Pure adrenaline drove her forward and she aimed to slam into him and knock him to the ground. Her jaws would bury themselves in whatever was convenient. She didn’t care so long as he went down.
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To stand, to fight, these aspects had not come naturally to the dog whose puphood had been spent scrounging for scraps– no;
Muscle had been won only by the merit of his own resolve; by making himself a tireless target for the cartel to ground their fangs.

Unprepared as he was, the hound swiveled to take the brunt of her charge to his shoulder, teeth a grisly snarl beneath the force of her onslaught. Deafening growls split his chest and riled through each limb, carrying across the dry lands to a shake free a susurration of crow’s caws from the thorny undergrowth.

Niño gave tongue like a bear and whipped his jaws aside, snatching for the thick flesh on sangre’s scruff in attempts to tug her away. She was pulled off but not without leaving behind an ugly, hatched bite-mark he decided would be her’s to pay for incessantly.

Throwing himself forward, the hound sought to secure the woman’s chest beneath his paws, weighty and massive, eyes enlivened and victorious upon her own. He cleared his jowls of a sticky amalgamation of spit and blood and drank in breaths over ragged, pulsing heartbeats.

Good chase.
She lost.
He won.
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#12
She tasted blood and felt the thrill of victory but it only lasted an instant.  Before she knew what was happening he had scruffed her and dragged her down, then planted his weight to pin her.

She twisted as she fought to catch her breath and kicked, striking out in an effort to get free. The adrenaline was wearing off, however, taking most of her optimism with it.  If she wasn’t so tired, he’d be toast.  She was angry thinking it, but resigned too, and a part of her considered if it wouldn’t be easier to give up.

Nope. No way was she making this easy for him.  Instead she continued to struggle, snapping at whatever she could reach.  If she couldn’t get loose then she could at least make him regret catching her.
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This is a war on the poor
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#13
He’s on her like that, two paws pushing down over her ribs, fangs widely bared to catch her jaws with his own.

She’s a mouthy pain in the ass. A real bitch. Another man’d crush her jugular until it’s lights out.
He thought about it. Against it.
Decided he wanted his own little side project. To grow something more than plants.

He knelt, covering her red with the entirety of his mottled pelt. Chasing every one of Sangre’s bites with one of his own to her ears, her jaw, her cheek. They were both slick with blood.

Mine now
.
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#14
He pressed her even further into the dirt, flattening her against the ground and pinning her legs beneath him. They were too tired to shove him off but she still had her teeth.

Every time she snapped, he returned it, and there was no place for her to run. She let out a shriek of rage, tearing at whatever she could reach, but eventually her struggling weakened.

She finally slumped back as her vision flickered, then growled as it sharpened once more into focus. The sound was defiant but no movement followed to support it. They both knew he had won - she was too spent to escape even if she somehow managed to break loose.

Just you wait, asshole. It’s coming.. Her stare promised murder.
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#15
Hound’s too spent from the fight to do much else but catch breath. He lengthens each of his arms over her’s, panting, occasionally relieving his blood-laden jowls with a skim of tongue.

Subsequent struggles enliven another drumming challenge within him. He gets a closer look at his conquest and meets her death glare with stone-faced cool.

Wouldn’t offer him her belly willingly.
Doesn't matter.
Niño's a persuasive man.
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#16
He was immovable and, despite her anger, fear crept in. Through the exhaustion she wondered what was going to happen next. Tierra talked a big game but she already hurt. Maybe there was a way to get him to leave, or to get free, without fighting more.

Everyone wanted something. He definitely didn’t deserve any favors from her, but she’d take living over her pride. She could totally threaten him, tell him her family would kick his ass, but she didn’t know where they were. Plus, who knew if he understood.

He’d understand that. Her mind went there again. It was hard not to, with him on top of her like this. As much as she hated him, it’d been a long time… and she was way too good for the likes of him. So it was probably the best thing she had to offer.

Look, you can kill me, or we can have a little fun. Right? This time, when she struggled, it was to reposition herself closer. Feels like a waste, I mean, doing all this work for nothing. She’d never felt much trepidation, seeking fun where she could find it. This wasn’t fun though.

If she could convince him, then she could convince herself, and the whole thing might feel a lot less serious.
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#17

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She shimmies against him.
Now they spoke the same language.
The dog let himself be lured into Sangre’s fires, pulling her taut beneath him, repositioning her hips into his own. He pressed her leg with his groin, tensing, teasing.
She felt good.
Her eyes held him captive.
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#18
Of course he wanted her.  They always did, and it was ridiculous to think he’d pass up a chance like her.  Tierra refused to acknowledge that a part of her had worried, just like she refused to analyze the fact that she felt anticipation.  This guy was a monster.  She’d rather rip his heart out than give him the satisfaction.

What she needed now was to get out of this situation in one piece.  She arched against him, pulling him into the same dance she’d entered with men from a number of places.  She was ready to forget the sting of his fangs, and her own exhaustion, for as long as this distraction would allow.

As long as I’ve got something you want, I have something of value.. This knowledge gave her a measure of confidence.  She could still turn this her way.

fine to fade here or skip to after, however you want to resolve! 

(The reason I tossed her in here is she’s already pretty addicted to coping via substances, so if drugs come into play you can assume she partakes 100% willingly!)
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This is a war on the poor
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#19
Niño’d fucking had it.
He wanted her.
She wanted him too (far as his one-track, man-brain could tell). She was working herself up against him.

He was ready to expel this pressure.
He looks down into her coy little face, feels the sultry rise of her hips…
And brings his forehead down to slam into her's.

Light’s out.
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#20
Tierra expected a lot of things. She was ready for his performance to disappoint, for him to maybe get angry in the process, and then to make the decision whether she wanted to just get it over with or piss him off even more. She wasn’t ready for this. There were zero things in her life, to this point, that could have clued her in on this one.

Whatever dignity she’d managed to salvage this far went by the wayside the instant his head connected with hers. Her back hit the ground as systems immediately shut down, laying her out without so much as a sound.

At least she couldn’t see herself, and at least she wouldn’t have the capacity to worry about much of anything for the next while. Silver linings?
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