Haunted Wood Dancing with the Devil

@Vengeance

Darkness, it was the thing that contained the evil of this world. The place where the witches play and the demons roam, so why was she here? A colorless angel in the dark and gloom, innocence in a place of nightmares. The answer, she did not know. She could not remember anything, she she knew how to walk, she even could recall herbs for healing and those of death but her name.. that escaped her. Why she waa covered in scars, why fear was the only thing she could feel.

It came again, the wave of terror at the sound of a bird above, the snapping of a twig below. Her heart hammered against her frail chest, beating like a caged thing that new death was the only way to escape. Her little frame shook to the point that her legs gave out before a beam of moonlight that seemed to find purchase through the gnarled canopy, why was she so hopeless? 

A whimper escaped as she gasped for breath though she did not remember allowing it to happen. She wanted to run but she no longer had the strength as she realized that she had not slept in days, that her nightmares were bleeding into her waking times but if you dont sleep.. they shouldn't haunt you..

60°, currently it is thick with fog and set during evening. Located in Haunted Woods, | ooc notes: thank you for your patience!

Staking his claim, Vengeance was growing ever more territorial with the woods the longer he lingered. As his stench slowly crept over his members, the trees, and the lands below, they became his. With every growing day, everything he touched, it was his to claim. Every soul, all meals, and every breath. The stench of the other pack who had tried to steak their claim slowly faded in time, perhaps it was after his encounter with what he assumed was a member of theirs that they decided to wander off elsewhere. 

Regardless, proudly he stalked the woods. Mist clinging to his thick frame as it danced around his being in ghostly tendrils, every step exploded in a plume of white. With a crooked smile, the demon stared at the pale damsel bathed in moonlight. Her soft whine music to his ears. Little dove, what are you doing on my doorstep. Still, he continued to approach the young lady, curling around her in a smooth stride as he continued to eye her, studying her... every scar, every shiver. It excited him. Was this possibly a new toy for him to play with?

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She had not realized her eyes had closed, that the heaving of her own chest had slowed until the phantom feeling of pain snaked up her frame. Those pants became ragged once more as those fear filled eyes snapped open only her dream seemed to seep into her waking world once more.

she was a broken angel on his doorstep,  her wings tattered and almost unrecognizable before she looked up into eyes that were eerily similar to her own but he wore a clock of deep russet amd she waa colorless. He wrapped around her much smaller form as if to embrace her, to caress the fear that still clung to her skin. She could not help the whimper that escapes her pale lips, the shiver that racked her spine as his words reach her pinned ears. 

Little dove, what are you doing on my doorstep.

this forest was his, this devil's place to roam and here she was. Broken and in his grasp but his words were soft and soothing to her wounds. No one had spoken to her like that, had they? She parted her lips as she tried to answer, how hushed and cracked they came from disuse. "I.. I.. I do not.. know.." they shook, it was obvious they were not use to forming words. Maybe more accustomed to screaming?

The world was harsh, individuals hardened themselves to it and grew strong, brave - there were many out there who didn't show fear, who didn't feel it quite as easily as they did as pups. But those who still shuddered, who quaked whether it was from him or sourced elsewhere... he drank it up like a sponge dried in the sun who had finally been plunged into a bucket of water. 

And he soaked up every moment of hers. Every quivering word, he drank it up like the greedy bastard he was. Rolling onto his haunches, smooth motion as he gently placed a paw around her quivering, frail body, pushing her closer into him as his words tumbled in slithering from his tongue. Toxic and thick as tar. Lost and abandoned. What a shame. He saw his opportunity and he would cease it. Grasp it firmly in his grip and toy with the moment, with her, for as long as he could. 

Do you have a home to return to? The question didn't matter... he was already set on keeping the woman. Should she prove to be useful... or at least continue to amuse him. But his words remained calm, as kind as a snake coiling around its victim in a deadly embrace.

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It was funny how injury could help the mind attack itself, how too much pain can cause the brain to take all memories of said pain and lock them to the point of  no return. Ah, but what happens when those memories leak into dreams? Tainting them into horrors that make someone not want to sleep, to make them fear every time their eyes close? It makes them into a mess, the mess they were before the mind tried to protect them.

Pressure, his paw against her fragile body. She gave into his silent demand, pressing her frame against him even more than before as he spoke his words are thick as taffy. To her, his words were not cruel. Simplistic and ringing truth to her ears as they pricked up slightly from their pinned position. Lost and abandoned, oh how true that was. How could he know, did he see the demons reflected in her eyes? Could he see the wings she once had, torn and tattered at their feet? "Br..broken.. and.. and.. dis-discarded.." Her voice shivered and  whimpered, she knew this was true. Why else would she bare these scars?

Do you have a home to return to?

How could she have a home when she wandered in nothing but fear and dismay? She shook her head rapidly, was she trying to please this man? "I.. I.. do not.. remember.." she stated simply though her voice still cracked and shook so pitifully. Would this devil have a home for her? She shook her head again, she had to be too broken for him as well.

That's right. His voice remained as soft as his bass tones would allow, a reverberating tenderness that those who knew him could pick apart his lies and deceit immediately. Vomit at the poor acting he had offered in order to "care" for the little one who had now cuddled up to his thick frame. 

What a pity... He observed her scars, the young woman had been abused in a past life - to the point where she possibly buried those memories deep within the crevices of her mind. But what good could she be for him if he chooses to bring her in, to use her to his advantage... to take this lack of memory of hers to his to use and mold as he likes?

Luckily for you... He begins, slowly as if he was still unsure about his decision as if this would be the best thing he could offer her and nothing else. That he would be troubled to offer such a thing that was to come from hos foul breath. This is my home. I suppose... you could stay. But - his words cut off abruptly, paw reaching down to try and force her to look up at him as his next words came barreling off his tongue. What are you good at, little angel? We can't have you eating our meals for nothing in return.

This was it, this is what would decide her fate. What did she have to offer in exchange for his generous offer?