something somewhere out there keeps calling
SEEKING RAKUEN
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Escape. The monster had not changed at all. He still travelled and found the most solitary places so that he may rest. He did not like the idea of his being leader of Bright Moon. Too much had transpired in that pack to ever welcome him as a leader. But then again, he was not necessarily aiming to be a leader for that long, was he? No surely not. The only reason the two brothers not related by blood had chosen to ensnare a pack with their own power was to show just how dangerous they could be even without the ruthless assholes who belonged to their previous pack at their side. Of course, Iason had not changed either. He was still annoying as Hell. But with Darcia's expelling of too much energy during the fight and getting nothing back from it, of course the young regal would be enraged. It had pressed all his buttons to find that Ambrosia would not be attending the fight as he had wanted her to. He had actually wanted to see a girl bleed. He still wondered if females actually could bleed. But surely... perhaps they bled the color black. Yes, he could understand if they did. Heartless creatures they were. And the three... no-- two? Who knew, Darcia couldn't keep track of his own stilts now... however many females there were at that pack meeting-- the thought of having to deal with them every day for who knows how long wore him out just thinking about it. And with the arrival of females arose the question of a mate. Having just entered his adult years, of course hormones would be all over the place. In fact, that was probably another reason as to why he had been so hostile to his friend lately. The way he touched him... toyed with his feelings, and even the way he spoke to him in whispers... Darcia craved that. He would never admit it aloud, but he craved it so deeply that even his organs could feel pain. His stomach clenched and he was reminded of this fact as he stopped walking and held his breath for a brief moment. He was going to puke.
Some say that feelings can not be real. They are just figments of imagination-- not even science can explain why emotions are felt so strongly by the body. But for whatever reason, Darcia certainly could feel it. It was absolutely vile the way he reacted to that attention. And it messed with him even more now that he was in this crucial pheromone-filled stage of life. In the moonlight he regurgitated what was left of the feast that he had devoured two nights past and spat on the ground to the other side, revolted. Of course, as usual, herbs were chewed, seeds were grinded between his incisors and his mouth was cleaned with whatever crystalline fluid he could find. And then he continued onwards, unperturbed by the events that had occured not moments beforehand. His destination was a simple, secluded area. A cavern that contained darkness beyond his own knowledge. This was where Darcia went when he could not sleep beside the asshole that he called friend. The first time he found it was on a moonless night, surrounded by frost covered gales that punched at his aching ribs. He had stumbled upon it by accident, following the trail of a newborn fawn, determind to end its days slowly and mercilessly. When he found the site of its death, right in front of the cavern, he glared when he found that its guts had already been strewn across the ground like unhung christmas lights, glistening elegantly in the pristine starlight. What kind of idiot would leave so much food out just for the fun of it. Oh right. He would. Darcia had checked all around for signs of Iason that night. Making sure that it wasn't the blondie. Even now, his heart raced at that thought. What fucking thought. FUCK. The duo-tone eyed bastard pushed farther into the night, desperately trying to escape whatever it was that attracted him to the idiot. If he was even attracted at all. He wasn't. He wouldn't be. Impossible. Who would even fall for that fag. Idiot.
And here he was, crawling out of the foliage surrounding the place like some kind of demon born from smoke and ice. The words from Iason's mouth earlier ringing in his frostbitten domes. The ice dragon had spat something out about sleeping with some whore within their territory. Anger spilled from the darker czar's heart and he hunched his shoulders, overridden with whatever kind of emotion it was that he could never name. It was envy. Envy. FUCKING. ENVY. What kind of asshole-- Again the demon spat to the ground, allowing the saliva to gather before it fell silently and then collided with the tundra. A growl rose from the demon's throat and he bit back the urge to scream it to the endless night. Why was he bothered so much by the simple childish ways of the soldier? Sure, the two were close. Obviously they had to be close. Growing up with one another, being placed in the same fighting arena then without any words, deciding mutually to high tail it the hell outta there... a connection had to have been established somewhere. But what kind of connection was it? Thinking so much about it... obviously the King's heart gave way to the thundering pace of that artery and he turned his head shamefully to the side, at war with himself. And that was when he knew something was up. That simple turn of his crown... a faint stench upon the wind. That everchanging wind was his best defense. Hackles erupted into the atmosphere as smoke piles out of a volcano. Lips curled above his gums, revealing a noteworthy number of marvelous pearls, sharp and ready to stab. Bloodthirsty. His tassel rose over his spine and his muscles rippled. He was being watched. But by whom? Or what.. he did not know. Running his portals around the playing field, he searched desperately for whatever it was that grappled with this tense outer shell of his. What the hell was it?! A flicker of silver caught the bright war boy's golden eye and he turned to it, observing it for another few moments before he lowered his defenses and exhaled loudly. He found his words quickly and gracefully. A mobster's speaking followed suit. Of course, he was going off a 79.4% chance that this was who he thought it was... but hey, that extra percentage couldn't really be that much. The hell are you doing.
If and when the idiot showed himself... would he be able to tell that his counterpart was on edge? That beneath all that marvelous wintery fur was a figure who could not figure out whether or not emotions were worthy here? Hot breath. The slight twitch of an audette. The uncomfortable heat in between his legs. Blatantly obvious to their owner... but only in the way that a certain time of month is obvious to an adolescent female. Hidden but obvious. More important than those weird feelings of his was the impatience for the boy his own age. Why was he even here? Had he followed him? Surely not… Darcia himself had just arrived…
darcia
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