I'm beginning to feel like a Dungeon Dragon

soul forever her own | heart captured by none | warrior for Glorall | no children |

She was doing quite well for herself here in Moladion, she decided. She had met many new friends, explored many new lands, and had even joined a pack. Yes, Jagger, the incurable nomad, had a pack. Glorall, to be exact. Not officially, but she was tasked with training a little pup who had shown much potential - and teeth. The rambunctious Viora, such a sweet girl really, had proved interesting and challenging; having the focus of a fish. And she got to be got to be around her sister -well her best friend whom she considered a sister, blood ties be damned- Chickadee. They were so different, yet so alike. They gravitated towards each other from that first day they met at the Crags. She was considering teaching Chicky how to fight; though her time was filled up with teaching focus and defense to Viora.

She had not thought about that one land in ages, visiting other lands along the way and coming to Moladion. She hadn't a reason too. She hadn't thought about the gods that the inhabitants of that land chose to believe in. She had seen rivers and streams and had not thunk about that one god; the River Tyrant. Why would she be thinking about this god more than so than others?

Simple.

The bane of her existence was a follower of his.

Splash. She had not seen the infernal male in quite some time; a fact she couldn't be happier about if she thought about him at all. Her short stay in his land had been because of him. He had gotten her in his sights and hadn't let her go, following her and following her, trying to "protect" and "take care" of her. Ridiculous. He did not know about her time with Amazons. Did not know about the times she'd been a faceless warrior in wars that were not her own. He did not know how she got her collection of scars, all but one or two hidden under her silky black pelt. The ones the alligator had inflicted were on full display, as was the chunk missing from the side of her ear. She had cuts all over her now though, only a few days old, the front of a forelimb torn up from the same fight that earned her other wounds. One was a horizontal scratch underneath an eye when a claw caught her while another was the three long cuts across a shoulder where it swiped at her. She had fought off a lynx, yes lynx, in order to save the teenager she had come to think of as a little brother. He had come running out of nowhere, terrified and the musclebound cat hot on his trail.

It had been a quick fight, her killing it rather simply. Just a little advantage and she'd got its throat. Afterwards, she had taken it upon herself to teach him the skills of the great warriors, somehow managing to give her time to Viora, Chicky, Nootau -the teenager-, and whatever else Tesseract, she supposed he was her alpha now, needed her for. She didn't need any time for herself. She liked spending time with Viora, teaching the little one how to strike and defend herself while also teaching her to focus on one thing for more than a few minutes. And not biting her teacher so much... She'd help Chicky collect plants and just talk to her, keeping her company. She'd teach Nootau some new moves. She was an insomniac who liked to stay up, she didn't need sleep much anyway. She was even thinking about staying in Glorall, wanting to earn the rank of Achilles. The Achilles was the top warrior of the pack, and in charge of attack, defense, punishment, and acted as an Advisory to the alphas. A busy job to be sure, but it was made her for. Plus, the Achilles was the fifth rank, only after the Hand -the Potentate's most trusted Advisory and right hand wolf- the Heirs, the Baroness and the Potentate himself. She didn't want to be an alpha per se, but she wouldn't say no to a high ranking position.

In one of her rare moments of peace, she decided to go down to the Riverside, wanting to maybe meet yet more wolves. She quite liked Moladion she decided, as she trotted down to the banks, licking her lips at the thought of the cool, sweet water. Pricks of pain danced along her body, her cuts and scratches still red though she'd washed off all the blood for the sake of her friends. She couldn't imagine them being as comfortable with blood and gore as she. She liked the pricks; they enhanced her other sensations, making her feel more alive.

She reached the bank, her paws dipping into the cool water in order to drink more from the inside of the river. Her tail was high, usually only a notch or two lower than an alpha's would be. Tesseract didn't seem to mind, but she had considered lowering it a bit more when Caligula was around, though seeing as she hadn't interacted with the Baroness, she kept her tail right where it was.

As her tongue lapped at the water, a slight breeze began to stir, sending downriver scents up towards her. She breathed in the familiar smells of water, snow, and...

Wait.

No.

It couldn't be.

She froze, tongue stopping it motions, hanging limply from her mouth before she snapped her jaws shut, muscles instantly tensing as her eyes darted around, almost afraid to move. Oh, no. Oh no no no no no. He couldn't be here. Not here. Anywhere but here. She was happy here, that last thing she needed was an overzealous male who had took a shine to her. Yeah, a shine. That was putting it lightly. She forced herself to breathe calmly, eyes fixed up the river, waiting for him to show his face.

A face that would be ripped off if he got within five feet of her. She was fearless, intrepid; a brawler through and through who would fight anything and everything. And she was scared of love, when it was directed at her.

Pathetic.

She needed to get to Glorall, back to Chickadee and Tesseract and Viora. Back to her beach home where everything was simple, uncomplicated by him. She refused to name him, because naming him would bring back all the things she had long suppressed and buried. She growled in her mind, baring her teeth, the only movement she made besides her eyes. She did not feel anything but hatred and contempt for him. Nothing. She should run back to Glorall, to tell Tesseract and warn him. Warn him that an insane male had followed her over countless lands. And now he was here. He wouldn't dare enter the packlands, would he? He'd have to deal with Tess and Caligula. With the warriors and with her. He may be bigger than her, but damn it, she could kill him easy. She had to believe that. If she believed that, she was able to kill him. If not, she was screwed.

She had been here less than a month. And now he was here as well. Oh, god, how close had he been to her?! Was she only ever a few steps ahead, just barely staying out of his grasp?! She hardened her muscles, barely restraining the snarl that built deep in her chest, rising up her throat. It was cold, snow covering the ground and the water beginning to numb her paws, but she didn't register it. All she registered was that as soon as he came into sight he would be dead or she'd be gone. She felt guilt for bringing him upon Glorall, but she needed to be within its borders; it was the only safe place she could think of. If she got there fast enough she tell could Tesseract and maybe he could deny him entry. Maybe he'd give the patrolmen and guards permission to kill him. A faint pang; weak from fighting through her defenses and overwhelmed by her anger and rage, sounded in her heart. She told herself it was only because she wanted to kill him herself, to pay him back for the hell he put her through.

He'll be dead or I'll be gone.
He'll be dead or I'll be gone.
He'll be dead or I'll be gone.

So why couldn't she make her muscles move?

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