To Make Me Feel This Way

The dysfunctional reality of this family dynamic was worthy of some horror-flick satire. It would be humorous if it weren't so true. I will never regret the outcome of that singular fateful night when pheremones painted the night crimson with Lust and Instinct drowned out good logic in favor of the primal temptation to dance in the like of two bodies molding to One. Abraxas was an ideal specimen of the masculine persuasion, and a part of me is more then pleased that our genetics have intertwined. We had been a good match in that regard, and for it I will never be sorry.

But the iron-hide mastadon had never been much of a family man. His paternal instinct, at least at that time, was little if non-existent. And of course, I'd had stirrings for another dark-pelted brute and I was in the independent disposition to explore every avenue. Mayhap that had been my folly, but again I would never regret how I felt- and still feel- for Devil. Had I known then that the Samurai King of Paracon would eventually succumb to obsession over his Imprint, perhaps my choice would have been different, and perhaps not. There is no reason to dwell upon the Shoulda-Coulda-Woulda's.

The banter of words sported between father and daughter is both polite yet volatile, quipped queries met with insults or brutal critiques of their person.

Stella's lithe figure skulks close to that of her Sire, head dropping to investigate the small ball of fluff and flesh that huddles close to his side.She observes her newest half-sibling with a wicked perversion of humor and blood lust, offering to dispatch the small creature when it seems it has not met her expectations.

If it had been her desire to roil her father's ire, she does not succeed- not at all surprising- and Abraxas retaliates with a mastered fortitude of nonchalance. His has always been a macabre eloquence, astute and brutally honest with a potent vehemence akin to that of a diamond back rattler. Something admirable, awe-striking and lethal.

The cumbersome set of his jaw is tilted, his eyes given to stray from the face of my daughter as his voice trails into dead air. The glint of his one good eye rolls within it's socket, the great carapace of his helm swiveling slightly as that penetrative stare centers upon the barricade of foliage that conceals my location.

He knows, and a single audit flicks in repose to the last of his venomously serene statement.

Sleek bodice splices the tangible barrier between myself and the group, fauna parting as obsidian temple is relinquished to the crisp night air and cold pools of shadow.

Glittering harlequin gaze is beset upon the beast, nares pulse to inhale his cologne and the inked petals of my lips are upturned in a quixotic smirk. "Is that a threat..." Fine-curved ivory blades peek from within, sultry nocturne is given to drawl langorous and serendipitous from the roll of my velvet tongue. "...Or are you just Happy to see me?"

Golden splash gleams beneath a shaft of silver-spun moonlight and my eyes then rest upon the blessed result of my one-night encounter with the fellow titan.

"Stella, you are looking well... It is good to see you my Dear."

:: WARSHIELD OF TAVIORA::
+ Bitch +
+ 16 years +
+ Kenai Penn. Wolf +
+ 44"' tall +
+ 210lbs +
+ Inamorta Of None +
+ Paramour of ~~Devil May Cry~~ +
+ Creator of Kane, Cordova, Stella, Chance, Zeteri, Valentina, Kali & Durga + +

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