DARIEN VALENTINE
“ I think my passion is misinterpreted as anger sometimes. And I don't think people are ready for the message that I'm delivering, and delivering with a sense of violent love.”
If there were two things I couldn’t stand, it was fidgeting, and motionlessness. The medium amid, the equilibrium between both loose ends; that was the stellar point I shot for. But, to my desolation, to reach the exact volume of perfect poise it required was standing just out of my reach, its laugh like the crunching of the frozen leaves under my jerking paws. Why couldn’t I stay still? I ground my jaw together as, once again, I found that I was unable to impress myself. Trees stooped with their spindly, drooping branches to the earth, strewn in crystalized morning air. Ice; a dozen shattered, translucent bones stuck to the deflowered earth, bushes and grass spread around me- even my own fur was blanched from black to near white with the dewy tundra. Stalactites hung like upside down ant hills under a crumbling pendulous den not five feet from my roost, and a beetle lay dead with its frostbitten legs enduringly stuck up in the air. . Almost like it was waving to the sun, beseeching it to come out and help it in its plight, thaw it from an icy grave. Too bad, really, that it didn’t last.
That’s how it went, I suppose. You had to survive until the night was over before the sun could come out to warm your toes.
Warm my toes, that refused to keep still. From the cold, my morning hunger, or the severe lack of wolf’s blood intake, doesn’t matter; so long as they’d stop. . . Baring my teeth in exasperation, I shook my water logged fleece out, conclusively giving up. Something should just be, well, left alone. For the past few weeks, I’d kept to myself. Scraping the loneliness out from under ever y underground burrow, sagebrush infested field, and oak tree hallow. I’d flourished- constructing a stale water shelter about myself. To shield me, I’d said, from the lure of blood. But I knew the truth, I knew what dangled like a cobweb in the back of my mind, fluttering every once in a while to remind me it was there.
Something not to be forgotten.
Skirting territories had left a sour taste in my mouth, and, somehow, I knew I wanted it gone. It was a thorn in my rump; an itch on my ear; snow in the desert, and all I wanted it to be was dust under the rug, so to speak.
Through my muscles’, cramped from the hours of stasis they’d endured, somatic complaint I vouched to further discover the border. Life was beginning to tamper out, excitement giving way to a bland thumping of my heart. Thump, thump, thump, not fluxing in the slightest, providing me a sure and safe, straight path. But there was no fun in that was there?
Four onyx pillars pounded over the sluggishly unstiffening loam, two equally as dark sensorial orbs skimmed the path, and a blasé grimace passed over my garbled lips.
Herbs. I felt my eye twitch in unison with my nose, the overpowering, repugnant smell delving into my thoughts, shifting into recognition. Not only herbs, but wolf, a male wolf, at that. On any other occasion, I’d let it be. Not only was I unsure of my acceptance into the pack itself, but I honestly didn’t like first impressions. They had a horrible habit of adding to the long list of people I didn’t like, and it got under my skin in the most trying ways. . But something about his scent held an alluring touch, almost feminine. I’d never had anything against homosexuality; however I’d stayed clear of same sex breeding for the most part and never had any reason to favor their partialities. But, again, it didn’t quite seem right. Following my nose, I echoed the smell, for once not the least enticed to his blood. I’m sure it was the herbs that had put me off; I’ve never really acquired the taste. Dissipating a cluster of palm leaves, I materialized near the border, its hearty aroma familiar enough to sooth any insecurity. And there stood, much to my delight and alienation, a, as can only be defined, beautiful wolf.
His fur surged like liquid silver, ending in inky stains as if he’d waded through dusky waters. What most estranged me by far, all the same, were the pair of sky blue, insipid eyes etched into his skull and his slender, womanly body. Leisurely, assuredly I felt the pleats of skin concealing my incisors begin to lift away, presenting their consignment well as I made my way closer. I wouldn’t mind waiting for a more certified welcome, but mine would surely tide his social requirements until later notice. Finally, only a few inches from the questionable figure, I loosely smiled; the best of my abilities put towards looking friendly- which I can only imagine wasn’t very friendly at all, if anything more like a snarl. I can truthfully say I’ve never been fond of strangers. ”I’d love to let you in, really, but I can’t. So, I guess that means I can just keep your company until then, hm?” Fully intending to make good on my words, I made my way to an elevated stone ledge a few feet away and took up the positions, resting my head on my paws and fixating my heartfelt regard on him. No hard feelings, he really was attractive, but it just wasn’t in my nature to be kind. But, that’s why I’m an assassin, right?
[Loveless] [Adult] [Male]
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