Wheeling Gull Isle OTHELLO, I WILL AVENGE YOU

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Wednesday marched after the she wolf who had traipsed away from the meeting with a sashay in her step. Wednesday herself moved with a strut befitting of the status she thought herself in: above any woman in this place. She had told the captain of this ship, as he put it, she would be commanded by no woman. She sought to assert that. 

Wednesday squinted against the hours light. The woman cut a pretty picture. She'd be a liar if she didn't admit her attraction to her—but, she was just that. You, came her eloquent speech to summon the others attention.

erzsébet had expected a heavy step behind her. "come to claim a trophy, captain?" the countess murmured into the darkness without turning, yet the tones that sounded were rasped, feminine -- she had not seen the glower of the bulky pale female, but now erzsébet turned in surprise and anger.

"what is it you wish?" the woman asked in a bored tone. she had tasks to which she must attend, the least of which was not ferreting some pleasure from ferahgo in this forsaken wasteland he had claimed.

I've come to claim my trophy, she quipped, but as the other did not contest her rank, the bedraggled woman decided to relent. I just wanted to meet my fellow, is all. Wednesday leered at that, but did not continue on the subject the other had started. Her interest was true, and there was a hungry glint in her eye that was not malicious as it might normally have been. 

Want to know how I got these scars? Wednesday went on, not at all fluent in matters of the heart. She thought she was eloquent, however, and watched the other with apt interest, though she was utterly elementary in this all.

"well, we are met," erzsébet rejoined. her umber eyes flickered over the pelt of the woman, her blocky form, her hard eyes. she was hardly distinguishable from the rabble of men who followed the captain, and in her scrutiny the countess did not see the interest in the other woman's eyes. her tailtip flicked, catlike; she was annoyed at the interruption, her desire half-risen and now stagnating.

"i have no interest in such," the woman growled in the heavy accent of the grotto, eyes flashing with a warning now: depart or be bitten. she had bandied enough words with this peasant.

Wednesday would not be defeated by this. She lifted her head and though the denial was a chip on her ego, and something she normally responded to with teeth; her patience was thin, but she would win this woman. Alright, she responded, and pursed her lips. Wednesday sensed the other was not desiring of her presence, but she herself did not wish to step away. 

Well, I will only tell you, she promised, and then went and turned away from the other. Wednesday had no social graces, and shook out her ruff as she walked away. The words burned on her tongue, the epic story that would only continue! But she had said that she would hold it, her tongue, only for the other. Let it die there if it must!

in spite of herself, the woman was intrigued. the pale brutess was no simpering female, the ones that had come to her in the night and opened willingly their veins in exchange for her empty promises of immortality. she could not see this creature doing so, and as her pallid form ambled away, erzsébet took a step forward. "wait," she called into the darkness that had all but swallowed her would-be assailant from view. 

"tell me of them." she knew not how the interest had come to be, or if it would roost for long, but there it was, and her intrigue at the simple mystery of the brutal-seeming creature was mounting.

The others words gave her pause, and caused a strange little hitch in her ever uncaring heart. The velvet words were soft on her ears, so contrasting to her smooth ones. The other had asked, and so, she would receive. 

Wednesday turned her ruined face to look at the other for a moment, and then moved to face her fully. I smelled new life, and I wanted to take it. The pack attacked me, Wednesday grunted at that, and shrugged her shoulders. I know it is there now, so I will get it when they least expect it. That this was such a boon of the other was not known to Wednesday at all. She spoke of it casually, lightly. She herself willed it, and so she would do it. But if she had known of the others longing, Wednesday would move the earth to obtain it.

new life. "you sought to take a child?" the countess inquired shrewdly, eyeing the other even as she drew near. now that she had brought herself closer, erzsébet saw here and there some glimmer of femininity upon the other's visage. it had been through nature that the woman had been unfortunately stamped into a masculine appearance, but that could be remedied through carriage and diet. when the winter coat was sloughed away, the hungarian suspected there was a waist there, and that her fellows' legs appeared more slim to the wanting eye.

"have you bathed in the saltwater?" the countess asked softly, knowing as did any creature the healing properties of the brine.

The tone in the others voice was missed by Wednesday, who would come to know it and its nuances if time would lend itself to her. And I will again, she promised the other. She did not wonder what the captain might think; if she obtained the thing, she would act as though it were some gift to him. A short-lived one, little would he know; Wednesday had no plans to let the child live, as she enjoyed taking life and joy from others because she could, and life, for her, worked that way. Already her plan was devised and decided. The family would think the daughter would live if only they handed her their stores of food... and then the cub would die, and all would be for naught on her families part. 

It felt like this place knew only peace. The blows delivered had been terrible and cruel, but there was true surprise to see one so deep in their lands. At home such a thing was a habit of other packs, but only because they wished for territory... ah, well, let their territory be an option to put on the table, too! 

The question surprised Wednesday, who shook her head. Gristle had cleaned them well enough, but she had not thought salt water would do much of anything to her. She was truly unaware of its healing properties; she had only heard of stories of others drowning in it.

she did not understand why the other took her disfigurement so casually. infected, she would surely die, and even if she bypassed the pus and itching and fever, she had forever lost an important element to her wild life. the countess gave a slow blink of consternation at her companion -- she did not believe that the other would traipse so lightly again, and the promise of her death if she returned to the packland was quite high.

she herself moved to the water's edge, expecting that the pallid woman would trail her, and at the height of the moon's arc, the slim wolfess gestured to the gently lapping brine. "bathe."

Wednesday had nothing to lose in life, and nothing that had ever given her any measure of feeling. In a life of only numbness, she lived for herself. She served herself, and always would. It was a hellish life she led. But as she looked to the woman beside her, Wednesday wondered if there might be perhaps a little something more...

But then, Wednesday wanted to possess this other as she possessed anything else: entirely. She would take her time with it. For the other had a strange effect on her. She wanted its potency to extend, for it to be mutual. Wednesday padded behind the other, and at the others gesturing she dipped herself into the water. Wednesday slid her foreleg into the water and lifted it to paw at the ear, which had been cleaned as best as she would let Gristle. The pain stung, and she grimaced, exposing the raw looking wound to the other to see her judgment on the cleansing. 

Wednesday could not help her slip of the tongue, however. You are very pretty, she thought to mention. But you prefer the captain? He was rugged, seaworn. Of course, she was far worse on the eye than anything. For the first time she did find herself caring, and she looked away, ashamed of her own visage, ashamed that she would even imagine that one such as this pearl among seaweed would think to entertain such a conversation like this.

"not at all," erzsébet rejoined, secretly pleased that the brutish woman found her attractive. she had never decorated herself for the eyes of men, but for her own pleasure, and for that of the beautiful women she kept close at court. "he merely provided me with a gift, to which i promised to grant him the singular thing thing that drives all men mad. what use is it to me?" 

while it was untrue that she did not bet upon some ecstasy from the encounter,  the tumbling was a man was to satisfy the desire for entry. it was the slow burn of dabbling and protracted feminine wooing that the countess most preferred. "you are a lover of women, then?" she asked pointedly, nodding at the other's wash of salt water over her ugly wound.

Wednesday wondered what this gift was, though truly not for her own gain. What woman would give herself to a man for anything? Men only had their seed; men could give little else that a woman couldn't. She herself had no preference, because she had never had any desire. But Wednesday herself was no virgin; the story of that was long ago, and caused her detesting the opposite sex in the first place.

The query was mulled on for a moment. Lover of none, she corrected, but wondered for the first time if that were a lie as her gaze raked over the nodding Erz. So I thought. It made no difference. Satisfied from the approval that the wound was clean, she moved and felt the need to ask. What did he bring to you? She paused for a moment, and licked her jowls. I would bring that thing to you, and want nothing for it. I would do it because I could. Her head lifted at that, her expression as stoic as her monotonous voice was.

erzsébet considered that she might ignore the other's question, but she was a selfish cur. mistress only of herself. "a girl. you see, my beauty is not purely of my birth circumstances, but blood. when my skin is nourished by the blood of a virgin or an innocent babe, it ceases to age, and therefore i will remain immortal. so long as the blood flows." so lofty were her words that it was quite plain to see that erzsébet believed each word she spoke.

she herself was no virgin -- in truth, she had borne a child -- but it was a fact that the woman had comfortably and willfully forgot long ago. 'twas better for the psyche that was already sprinkled with a fine smattering of cracks. "you would do this for me? i must give you something in return." already her mind spun with treacherous thoughts. "if you do this, i shall arrange for us to be off-coast when our season comes. i must ask ferahgo, but perhaps he can be swayed. i want no children, and i do not put it beyond the ruffians here to force us."

Her eyes flashed at the others words. A girl. Truth be told, Wednesday believed in nothing. But she would be damned if she did not believe in the other. So beautiful was she, how could it be but for how she said it? And the chaos and cruelty of it enamored Wednesday to her further.

The other thought to give her something in turn, and as Wednesday thought to deny her it, her own selfishness persuaded her to hear this woman out. What the other said she had not considered, and she squinted at the others words. Children, she had said. And the cruelest thought of all came to her. I would stay and endure this for you, too. If I had daughters—they would be yours to do as you would with. She herself had no desire for children, either. Her loyalty was seemingly to this woman alone, now; Wednesday would have her, keep her, in a way no man could. I would kill them all, and my companion would, too, should they think to touch you. Her ears thrust over her brow, looking the other into the eye. Chaos. It was what she lived for.

the cruelty; it shook and inflamed erzsébet. she had not thought of such loyalty from this woman, and looked upon her with new eyes, a refreshed attitude. "such loveliness in your words! but i would not ask this of you. rape is a foul thing, fit only for those unbent to one's whims. your loyalty is enough." as for this companion --- "a man?" she inquired? she was not opposed to their existence, so long as he did not betray her. 

"if you will do this for me, we must keep it secret. for all his roughness, ferahgo is no foolish beast, and he would surely slay us for what he sees as mutiny." she gave a small smile then. "what is your name?"

If they can take me, they may. He who can may keep the sons. But the daughters are yours, she responded, not shaken by the thought of being taken by a man. It would not be the first time. And if this time it was done to serve something, particularly this woman? She would not back down from this oath. She took a step forward to be all the nearer to the woman, bitter for the first time over the wicked disfiguring grin she bore that the woods of Donnelaith had given her. An exhale more befitting of an oxen than a wolf was expelled from her nostrils, a warm breath of admitted tenderness for the other. Wednesday had always preferred women to men, but not in a romantic fashion, simply for their existence and her perceived superiority over the lesser sex. The inquiry was met with a nod.

The others words were thought on. She supposed it might be better to keep such a thing a secret, that she would kill for this woman above any other bar herself. She would not be used for her attraction. And she would boldly deny it to any but the one before her. And then a name was asked. I have many, Wednesday admitted, What would you call me? And, after a moment, What would you have me call you?

in truth, the idea of such a vicious sacrifice pleased erzsébet greatly. that this woman would allow herself to be taken if only to bear daughters for the countess' whims. the thought of crushing such mewling, helpless forms caused the woman's eyes to become sodden with dreams momentarily. however, she soon cleared her vision. "what is it you call yourself?" she inquired, feeling quite philanthropic in allowing the woman to choose her own title. "i am erzsébet." 

she motioned that the woman should walk alongside her across the sands, for even in their brief interlude had the countess grown fond of the pale amazon's company.

The name was as beautiful as the woman! Wednesday could have swooned, but maintained her stature of brutal indifference. The other knew such indifference was only who she was, but it did not extend to her; she too was fond of this one, in a way different than anything she had experienced. Wednesday was no tender woman, but felt she could be for this one.

Our leader knows me as Great White, she informed, so the other would not be confused. I call myself nothing. I have never wished to be known. I wish to, now, if only by you. But I have nothing to give you, in name. Wednesday was born on Wednesday. But she did not identify as this name; she identified as what served her in the moment. 'Monster', 'Ghost', 'Murderer'—the list went on. But she did not wish the other to know her by such monikers!

great white. it was fitting, but strangely too crude. "i shall call you fehér," the countess decided. she did not ask if this was suitable for the woman, for she felt that fehér would agree to whatever title her mistress granted. they strolled in silence along the strand; presently, a yawn split her jaws widely. "where is it that you reside at night? and who is this companion of whom you speak?" erzsébet inquired.

the two of them, they would put out the man into the cold and take the den for themselves. she did not relish the idea of sleeping alongside a male, even one whom her new handmaiden found palatable.

She did not complain at the name; she was fettered to the woman instantly upon it. I sleep where I tire, the she-wolf admitted, not knowing the other desired to rest with her, something that would make her wildest of dreams come true; it did not seem possible, that an angel of such beauty would rest with a ghastly ghoul, a terrible troll. As for her companion? He answers to Bear, she told the other.

The renamed woman stepped a measure nearer to the other so as to inconspicuously feel the furs of the pale, clean, immaculate woman against hers. There was no shyness or shame in doing it, but she gave the other room to deny her this if she wished.

"are you tired now?" the countess queried, letting the other brush against the pale pelt of which she was so proud. she saw the glint of worship in fehér's eyes, and this she greatly enjoyed. her new servant had pleased her well this eve; she realized that her hunger for ferahgo had been stoked somewhat higher by the obeisance proffered by fehér. 

her lips curved into a dark smirk; she turned the full weight of her umber eyes upon the powerful woman at her side. "if you wish now for a bed, perhaps we might find one," the countess suggested lightly, then fell silent, leaving the muscled she-wolf to do as she pleased with such.

Wednesday did not answer the question immediately; she was too distracted by the feel of the suppler body of the woman against her own, gentle though the touch was. Her mind raced, twisting strangely, and when the other looked to her the new named woman looked back. The look caused her stomach to turn in a pleasant but foreign manner, a kindling set to flame in her belly.

Yes, she responded, her own husky voice strange to her own ears. Simply to lay beside her, this goddess, would fill her with joy she had never before known. To touch and to love and to bask in her presence was more than she imagined she would receive, more than she deserved. Where is it you reside? Perhaps the woman before her had a preference; for once, she would let a woman command her in life. Wednesday had lifted the woman to be her own equal, so why should she not?

she too felt the stirring between them, but wished to draw it out, to extend the slowness of the pleasant burn. "wherever i please." but the time for words had gone. erzsébet was a creature quite unused to being denied; what she wished was never withheld from her, and what she could not ask for, she fetched herself. ahead of the pair, a twinning of trees promised shelter from the elements, and from the eyes of wretched men.

lengthening her stride, the countess brought herself into the gloom there and turned to fehér, her eyes glinting with barely concealed interest. the woman was truly not the sort of wolfess with whom she had tangled before, they of slender limbs and shy, lovely eyes, and it was this, coupled with the utter fealty of her handmaiden, that led the countess to bare her throat and wait with interest for the other's touch.

Every syllable had Wednesday hanging as no word could have ever done to her in the past. It was typical for her to despise that others spoke at all. A waste of breath and their oxygen. But Erzsébet? She would ask the woman to recite epic poetry, and be happy to hear it. Wednesday noted the cover of trees ahead, and thought little of it up until the point the exotic woman broke from her side and turned to face her.

Wednesday stopped, tail lingering over hindquarters and then drooping low to her hocks as she wondered at what the other... ah, it clicked, taking but a moment. The brutish bitch was perpetually an aggressive woman, but as she stepped forward slowly, tentatively, she was a different woman entirely. Hideous still, but soft and sweet. Clumsy, too, but that could not be avoided by the inexperienced and oafish woman who was so captivated by the other whom had named her.

Gingerly Wednesday touched the others throat in an exploratory fashion, not used to being so soft, only used to taking. There was a moment where she supposed she might, so habitual it was. But she resisted that temptation, and instead a rough kiss came, that something she could not withhold any longer, so long had she desired to do it. The possessive Wednesday grew bolder and felt her teeth reaching to nibble at the perfect juncture between forehead and earlobe, sweet and tender and admiring in her attempt to adore as she had never done before.