Death is the Name IP: 98.166.90.188 Posted on June 22, 2013 at 11:38:53 PM by Kyina
The white, well, used-to-be white fea made her way into unknown territory. She hadn't traveled far within Blossom Forest, she mostly followed her late mate, Vladimir, around most of the time. But he is dead. And he's not coming back. End of story. She didn't care, she didn't even miss him. He was an anomaly that happened once upon a time. If even fairy tales were real, which they aren't, so it doesn't matter!
Growling, Kyina hung her head below her shoulders. Her hackles rose at the thought of her actually CARING for the golden brown wolf. Pfft. He was a pain in her arse, nothing more! She followed her like a love sick dog, and it was annoying as hell. What he even saw in her was a mystery. She wasn't nice. She wasn't caring. she didn't even have a heart. And most of the time, she called herself DEATH. That's all she is, at least in her mind.
Rolling her washed-out blue eyes, which were turning a dull gray, she ignored her inner rant and returned to to previous activity; exploring. Kyina didn't get out much. She preferred the dark corners of her den. A den that was tucked safety away into the secrets of Blossom Forest. She liked being alone. She liked the darkness, and she loved how that darkness felt upon her pelt. Darkness was cold, non-caring. It's caress burnt everything it touched; leaving being death in it's path. Darkness hung around Kyina; she welcomed it!
It's dark threads caressed her pelt, touched her with such sexual desire that she moaned at it's touch. Closing her eyes, she willed the darkness to come to her. It obeyed. Out of the shadows of the trees, the black substance slithered within the grass, moving like a viper hunting it's prey, It paused at her paws, kissing them with such love and affection.
"Come my love. Caress me. Touch me. Let me remember why it is I consort with you."
The threads listened to her smooth words; listening to how sexual she sounded, how much her sexuality heightened at the though of the darkness touching her. Then, they had their way with her. Moving quickly, the dark threads of silk eloped her frame, whispering through her thick woolly fur. Laughing, she welcomed the burn of the cold. This. This was living. This is what she cared about. Replies:
