• A Perfect Circle •

From dehumanization to arms production, for the benefit of the nation or its destruction. Power, power, the law of the land, those living for death will die by their own hand. Life's no ordeal if you come to terms, reject the system dictating the norms. From dehumanization to arms production, to hasten the nation towards its destruction. Power, power, the law of the land, those living for death will die by their own hand. Life's no ordeal if you come to terms, reject the system dictating the norms. It's your choice, your choice, your choice, your choice, peace or annihilation?

Static erupts over her frame as she feels the physical distance between them shortening, her yellow eyes taking on a brighter sheen as she waves her silvery banner behind her. With him, it seems, she could wait forever. Even if he had chosen to walk rather than run to her, she would always find patience with him to be an eternal thing. Always, it has been this way. She cannot help but to wait for him, her soul chastising her for thinking to rush him. She was patient even when she wished to rush him with all of her heart, stalking him through the lands of Moladion when he was attached to someone else, feeling him watching her as if he could stay hidden from her. She smirks at the times she remembers catching him in these moments, pointing out the one flaw within his plan. It wasn't so much that she could see him, or even smell the spicy cologne his body naturally produced, it was more that she could feel him. Just as she feels him now as he comes nearer and nearer to her, that tingling awareness would always flare when his eyes landed on her frame.

Thoughts and cherished memories flit through her skull, running around in her brain pan until she was found in quite a euphoric state. Atania's disappearance has her fretting for every second of every day, but she finds comfort from him every morning. Signs that he has been to check on her, or simply wishes she would cease in her incessant worries, have been left at her door. Flowers for her had become a stamp of his love for her, the meat a welcome distraction from Atania. During the warmer months, Devil would leave her a rose with her breakfast, sometimes it would be other wildflowers or just a weed with a pretty bloom. Always she would giggle softly when he brought a dandelion or buttercup with her morning meal, and her days would be brighter still on those days. Funny how he could make her day with something as simple as a pretty weed and a rabbit, the sun on these days seemed warmer than on the days he chose his flowers for what they were. But, somehow, worry managed to creep up on her.

Always though she will worry. What if Atania runs into the bane of her bloodline? What if Tobias catches her and she is extinguished? Her heart rushes blood and worry through her veins, but his scent hits her nose and she finds the sudden flood of fear and motherly worry escaping in the wake of his presence. All of the bad thoughts that had been circling her mind and haunting her every waking moment seem to flee before her soul the Devil. When he was near, she could not help but point out to herself how much like her father Atania truly was. Her restless spirit and trickster's mind, the way she moved and stayed out of sight if she wished it. Her strength and wisdom had been passed directly from her soul to her children, and thoroughly mixed into the fray was the wit and knowledge of their father. Natalya could rest easy, her mother's intuition telling her that her daughter was perfectly capable, but that niggling doubt would not be chased so easily from her mind.

It is not the worry that makes her call for him, but rather the undeniable flood of hormones and the need for a brilliant distraction causes her voice to echo across Diveen. When his tall, dark, and handsome frame comes into view she finds her heart stopping and her lungs cease, only to start up again faster than before, her breaths coming in deep calming heaves. Her smile to him is half-hearted, but no less warm. She knows there is a silent communication between them, and she can tangibly feel her soul reach for his just as her body moves to press against his as he comes to comfort her. Safety in the arms of a wolf who could so easily take the very life from her, home in the heart of a seasoned killer, but she knows this male is the safest wolf for her to be near to like this. Even Heyel was not so nearly capable of loving her as Devil has. Titan's love was a pale and insignificant thing compared to what her dark knight brings her. When he finally closes the distance between them, when his neck encircles hers and she presses her muzzle into the thick fur at the base of his ear, relief floods through her.

A low humming growl of pleasure and contentment escapes her at his touch, as it always has, and every muscle within her battle-hardened frame turns into something akin to a gelatinous mess. From the point of contact between them and through her frame bolts a white hot poker of desire and need and love and wanting, her every nerve ending coming alive beneath the familiar pleasure of his frame to hers. Safety is always supposed to feel this way, love and comfort wash through her consciousness and she speaks in a soft hushed tone to him before showing him the feast she has worked for this day. It was time she paid him back for breakfast in bed almost every morning. She knows full and well that his patience will succeed when it comes to her desires, the knowledge as instinctive as reaching out for him is. Tonight will be special, and it starts with dinner. A proud smile reaches across her lips, his compliment taken straight to her ego and the praise is waved around like an Olympian who just got a gold medal. I think we can find some way to make room. A mischievous smile breaks across her lips, turning pride directly into lust and light-heartedness and love.

His next words echo her own, and his posture becomes playful and daring. Memories float across her mind to their first winter together, how they had played like new pups. Devil moves toward her in such an awkward manner it makes her laugh out loud, eyes shining warmly as he nips at her forelegs and she returns the gesture against his ears. They may be seasoned, but this does not mean dead. Instantly, as he begins his dance toward and away from her, she begins to follow. Her front lunging in his direction as he moves away, body leaping back as he moves in to nip at her. Silvery grey paws raise from theground as he moves in once more, coming down to press against his sides and roll him as he moves sideways to get away from her, her aim here to make him off balanced a bit so she can gain an upper hand in their play. Growls and short barking calls echo off the hills of Diveen, catching in the canyon as they play like they were pups.

Their play is expertly made by instinct and the connection forged by the gods, each partner knowing – or seeming to know – where the other will land when they make their moves. His nips created a slow burning fire within her body, winter whispering into her bloodstream as she grew hotter and hotter. Soon, their meal would be forgotten, troubles would be left behind to be picked up at some later moment, worry sent fleeing out the window as the world around Devil slowly blurred and became nonexistent to her. Only Devil mattered to her right now, the stress of the rest of the world would have to wait. For now, they dance, perfectly in sync with one another, happy and euphoric in these tranquil moments of hormone and harmless play. Heat amping up to remind her of the season as she was slower and slower on each turn to pull away from him, every instinct telling her to do so, waiting for the cue from him. Though, self-control will ebb in, and lust will pass between them when they continue to their meal. Then, and only once dinner is finished, they can get down to the main event of Winter.

Thanks to Catarina @ Caution for this lovely code. 8D