Dance, my little puppets,

Spr/1.3/02  

     Näkki was disinclined to believe the denial, for she recognized the mad spark that she had struck behind the pupil. Now it was a question of what type of wolf Maeve was? Mind over pleasure… or pleasure over mind. Näkki was hardly worried about the outcome of Maeve’s decision. She had Maeve caught no matter which decision she chose, anyways. If she ran? Oh, Näkki could taste that elation the both of them would get from a merry chase. And even if the little coyote escaped her, who wouldn’t return for more fun? If she didn’t flee? Well, then she’d certainly be stuck with Näkki to hear about joining the pack. Näkki doubted she would deny the offer. At first, maybe, but that mad spark had been found and it was an addicting feeling to have it lit. Näkki doubted that many wolves could resist the urge to play with the flame that ignited. There was different side that surprised Näkki about Maeve.

What was this delicious aura? Näkki had felt the devilish streak in the three year old and had wanted to speak to it, but she had hardly expected a reflection of herself, who was so infected with need for extremes. Näkki’s fangs gleam in a wick smile as she watched the infection spread over Maeve. Now the question came… was it because the pup was mimicking or being impressionable or was it truly part of herself? Maybe both. If it were both, then Näkki was thrilled she had started this bothersome border patrol. What stroke of luck to find such an endangered species of wolf! It flared hope in Näkki’s breast that Demons were still not the only wolves with strength worth the new world they meant to create. The sensation coursed through Näkki’s veins to make her legs feel weightless.

The change of mind, Näkki saw, happened in an instant. And as the command was whispered, Näkki uncoiled and sprang for her target. Spit flew from her maw as she snapped down on empty air where Maeve had been. Näkki glanced behind her as she saw the tiny coyote streak further into Iromar. Her pupils slit as she watched each movement with predatory focus. Weakness is what she sought. Maeve was lacking in strength and average in agility. She was in a territory unfamiliar to her, whereas Näkki new every path and likely hiding place.

Näkki wheeled around on her hind quarters and in a few strides, was a streak of black crossing the marsh lands. Here, for a while, she could sprint. Her lungs expanded with one, long inhale, and then her heart pounded powerfully to fuel her long legs. In an inexhaustible cycle, all of Näkki pulsed with energy. She was driven beyond common drive to catch her prey, but so thrilled with the prospect of losing it as well. After all, what was Näkki supposed to chase if she caught what she was after? Who will win today? The predator or the prey? Näkki thought as she attempted to close the distance Maeve had created.

Maeve was built for the same feats as Näkki, however, the distance closed slowly and only because Näkki happened to have longer legs because of her height. It became obvious that such a method, unfortunately, would hardly be effective. And at this conclusion, Näkki maneuvered silently into the shadows of the foliage. The pounding of her blood pumping fades from her ears, and the swamp came alive with silence. Toads croaked… rain pattered, and it was as if, to the land, Näkki had disappeared. On soft pads, Näkki followed her victim with practice grace. Though her eyes never wavered from the glimpse she caught of Maeve through the foliage, her paws never faltered. She climbed over obstacles quickly to keep up even though Maeve was slowly creating more distance. No matter… it was what tracking was for. Maeve would tire of her speed eventually, and Näkki wouldn’t be far behind when exhaustion occurred.

Näkki