Whitewater Gorge If I Beg, if I Plead

 hell's f i r e was shining on y o u

Immersed in salient melancholy, memories flood him in fragmentations; history thrusting warm fingers into his state of emotion depravity. Affectionate, tender demeanor--it was not him and never would be. he was burning wickedly; labouring a violent mania--hopelessness. Sevastian was not regretful of his life--non, it existed to taper him into thep perfect weapon to deprave him and create a place for hatred. It were veiled beneath a surface of celestial beauty, eyes only interrupting the illusion with their slow-smoundlering animosity. 

 Now succumbed to complete and total darkness he basked in the moonlight--rigid edges of his contoured body going from a quick saunter to a halted stand. ears twisting to listen to the life that finds it's way flitting through the night. "Who goes?" His voice a lie. a simple baritone that was devoid of intention. He was the archangel--never the guardian. He craved something more carna; that what he presently were experiencing. tongue wet inky lips and his eyes searched for the figure bereft of a specific location. 

sevastian arsenio 

moonbeams etched fragmented patterns across the spectre, each dainty step assisting their frenetic dance. the chill strokes tenderly at the curves of her figure as sprightly puffs of frost flecked air billowed rhythmically from lax jaws. the witching hour had drawn this particular haunt from the refound protection of her tenebrous woods to loosen stiff muscles despite the increasingly enraged snarl of the festering wound perched sneering upon her shoulder. yet the night is not completely hers it seems as the scent of a man drifts unbidden through the frigid air. ears shift atop her head as the warrior casts inky eyes to the figure just as the question launches forth to crash uncaring through the silence. with movements so delicate she appears almost to drift, tundra emerges under the star sprinkled skies; frostbound gaze narrowed on the glow of his silvered figure. "just another wanderer" it snakes forth soft yet frost tipped, an acknowledgement to the lack of a pack scent clinging to the glimmer of his fur.

she dances forward in the pallor of the moon--venemous and yet subdued. his dome turning in her direction. ambiguous movement inclined to draw nearest the newest sound. sinew ripples beneath a near-colorless pelt and he halts many a length from her bosom. she had preseneted herself as an apparition. encompassing feminine vision: she is near godliness. he, though, has surpassed such a feat. 

 "magnificent," drawling words with carnal tune, "you're alone?" his interest is gathered--his intention furthest from what blood-curdling thoughts should transpire. tail maneuvers behind him with idle obscenity. he would not act further--lust was not his resolve.

a slender brow arches, serpentine form slinking a few paces closer before gently halting so that glacial orbs are left to pick at his own leisurely prowl. magnificent he croons, words testing the fringes of velveteen ears as they flick off the comment with an air of nonchalance. she is not here to be eulogized by some random man. although admittedly, she has no specific reasoning for her current choice of location. having simply followed an urge to dance with the giggling breezes on this particular night. eyes narrow at the enquiry, latching to the silky emphasis on alone. straightening, tenebrous glares fix wholly on honeyed eyes; tongue clacking slowly as her feathered plume continues to sway listlessly at her hocks. "would that be beneficial to you?" she returns sharply, heart fluttering; quite suddenly inappropriately enlivened by the prospect of such a situation. yet her mind chides such foolish tendencies to fall victim to reckless rushes and she swallows against the dull ache to radiate from her wounded shoulder, as much a psychological warning as a physical one. jaws grit as she regards him, diaphanous and confident under the winking moon.

she is confident, void of trepidation, and it is commendable. robust figure seats itself before her, eyes looming over her figure...she was ravishing if he were looking to ravish. things of the nature had yet to be inviting to him. he did not scrutinize long over her inquiry and solitary word drips from him, "no," he sneers his word in blatant denial. he did not want her--and she would not have him. his own means of penalty. arrogant in his inference she would even wish for him, "what do you search for?" legs advance him forward and he observes he is keen to know how close he can draw to her. his mark to impede on her personal space--peculiar if she let him-- honestly betwixt possibilities if she did. it were, above all else, he hunted association. loneliness did not instinctively become their species.

not a muscle twitches as tenebrous eyes follow his fluid motion to sit upon the earth. they narrow, not so convinced by the easy display nor by the retorted 'no' to slither sneeringly from his jaws. nevertheless she is confident in her ability to put him down should the need arise and so she too displays the perfect ratio of faux serenity whilst a wicked twinkle reflects in her twin inky pools. the question he poses comes as a surprise and she casts a peculiar look in his direction, studying closely. "nothing" it slips forth brusque and chilled yet there's an increased press now to the graze of her glances. ears rove back, not appreciating the sudden shift in posture as he moves to stride, serpentine in nature as his silvered body slinks right into what even the most affable of wolves considered personal space. her figure pulls itself taut, yet it is a result of instinct rather than fear; no the feverish glow to her gaze resembled something far from alarm. she glares back steadily, tongue slipping free to run idly across pearly fangs before she murmurs liltingly. "if you thought my reasons for wandering at this hour had to mean i was searching for something....then what is it that you seek?" 

it is only now that she allows the pull of the sky to draw her gaze upwards; inhaling to drink greedily at the type of air only found on nights where the stars giggled and jested at the specks of wolves far below. yet she is bemused to realise that there is a wistfulness present when comparing it to the dizzying hit of drinking the charged air only found when riding the highest of brazen peaks. her head lowers to gaze listlessly at the distant spires, hulking shadows in the night. when up there, all she thought of was the possibility of returning to the woods and yet now down here...it felt almost suffocating. licking at charcoal lips, she blinks back to her company; struggling against the budding frustration at her inability to find true satisfaction.