Hushed Willows [m] It's all fire and brimstone, baby

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Violence

@Lorcan <3

Underneath the swaying willows, a lone red wolf tore into the torso of a felled but still-writhing goat. It wailed, but Raelle paid it no mind. The creature would die soon enough.

Alone once again, she wasn't sure yet if she meant to head for Sapphique. She'd returned briefly to their sister pack before parting on good terms — but did the coast still call to her? Rae couldn't decide. She missed @Mercy —

but that was neither here nor there. Winter was nearly upon the wilds, and she needed to make a decision.

Lorcan moved along the borders of Shadow Ridge, his keen gaze scanning the familiar terrain with practiced ease. He was in his element here, slipping through the shadows, keeping a vigilant eye for any signs of intrusion or intrigue. But then, on a breeze that swept past him, he caught a scent—delicate yet potent, a woman’s perfume laced with the unmistakable tang of fresh blood.

The sweet, intoxicating scent stirred something primal in him, sending a thrill down his spine. His senses sharpened, and he began to track her, each step quiet and calculated, following her scent through the wilds like prey. With every step, the aroma grew richer, mingling with the metallic warmth of a recent kill. It filled the air, thick and heady, drawing him deeper into the shadowed woods.

Finally, he caught sight of her beneath the willows, her russet coat stark against the fresh blood of a goat still clinging to life beneath her jaws. She was a vision, fierce and unapologetic, tearing into the flesh with an elegant brutality that struck a chord within him.

With smooth, controlled steps, Lorcan emerged from the shadows like a phantom, his intense gaze fixed on her as he moved into view. His eyes gleamed with intrigue, and a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he regarded her, his voice low and rich as he spoke.

A fine kill for such a fine creature, he murmured, his tone thick with admiration, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. And here I thought I was the only phantom haunting these parts.

From the shadows another wolf materialized, taller and darker than Raelle; a formidable creature, but truthfully she wasn't impressed. Not by a man. Her time with the women of the sea had taught her that men were volatile creatures, weak, driven by base instincts and selfish cowardice. And this man was no different, she thought, listening to his words with bored contempt. She was no stranger to the flirtations of men.

A phantom? No, Rae lifted her chin, not bothering to wipe the smear of blood from her mouth. Phantoms hide in the shadows. They cling to the night.

Demons don't keep schedules, She added, smirking now.

Lorcan’s smirk widened as he caught her words, the cool, cutting edge in her voice both dismissive and strangely inviting. He had known her type—women with fire in their hearts and disdain in their eyes for anyone foolish enough to think they could be swayed. Yet her sharpness only seemed to intrigue him further.

Ah, but demons, he drawled, stepping a little closer, allowing the barest hint of a laugh to color his words, don’t always make themselves known so easily. They haunt the places no one dares to look. His eyes gleamed as he watched her, his tone a playful contrast to her contempt, as if her disdain were only part of some elaborate game.

Besides, he continued, taking in the blood-streaked fur along her jaw, I wouldn’t dream of hiding in the shadows when there’s such a view from here. He let his gaze linger, intentionally and with just enough boldness to test her patience, before adding, So tell me, demon—do you make it a habit to haunt these woods alone, or am I just lucky today?